When I first started college, I thought I wanted to be a journalist or something of the like, maybe marketing. I tell people often that the reason I decided against that path was the day we covered how to really get people with pictures... what pictures could captivate and invoke a certain emotion at the same time. There's a term for it, but I really didn't retain much from those classes. Anyway, I'm not a fan of this practice at all, and maybe it's because I'm totally the target audience of this type of journalism. I can't just look at a picture of someone in despair without feeling total despair. I'm really struggling with this- I can't find the words for what I'm trying to describe, but I can tell you that I just saw one of those pictures.
Today was a terrible day for Oklahoma. A lot of tragedy, a huge loss of life. While scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed, I came across a picture of a man carrying a young girl, probably from the elementary school that had been destroyed. I realized immediately that Lindsey, my sweet 20 month old daughter, has the same shoes as this girl.
A pair of shoes got me thinking... what if that were my husband carrying my baby out of the rubble that was once the elementary school I had dropped her off at this morning? And the children... what were they thinking and feeling? The teachers? I just can't fathom the horror.
There are some nights that I just can't understand why Lindsey won't sleep alone. A full size bed is no place for two adults and a toddler to sleep. I'll never understand how a baby can take up so much room. Or when I give her some food and she spits it out everywhere. Or when I walk into the kitchen and all of my rugs have been turned upside down and moved to the middle of the room and my towels and rags are all over the place. Or when it's time to go sleep and instead of just going peacefully, it's really a struggle (she will regret that one day!). Or when I have to say "no!" until I'm blue in the face. Or when I just want to make dinner in peace and she's standing in the living room screaming until she is blue in the face because she has chosen that moment to want all of my attention because the time I spent sitting on the couch trying to play with her five minutes prior was obviously not the right time. I think about moments like those and I think I'm going to lose my mind.
But on nights like this one, I think of the parents out there who would give anything for just one more kick to the spine just when they fell asleep. One more food fight, one more chance to clean up a mess, one more night to curl up and read with their babies. One more chance to do anything. I can not imagine the aching hearts of the parents waiting to find out if their child is okay and they ones who are coming to terms with the empty bedrooms they will face tonight, if they were fortunate enough to still have a home.
I think it's important for those of us who are parents to love on our kids like there is no tomorrow because it is a fact that tomorrow is not promised. It's important that we understand that doesn't mean we should let our kids do as they please- I'll still enforce my rules and practice tough love when the time comes- but let's make sure that our reactions aren't too quick, too harsh. I don't want to ever look back on any memory with shame or guilt because of the way I acted. I don't want to wish I could re-do any moment. I don't want to regret tomorrow the words I say today. We always believe that terrible things (and even the good things) happen to somebody else... but you are and I am somebody else's somebody else.
On a positive note, waking up to Lindsey in the morning saying "Hi Mommy, hiiii. Hi Mommy. Mommy, hi. Hiiiiiii. Eye! Nose! *smack* Mommy! Hiiii!" always makes me smile. I wish I could wake up with her enthusiasm. And I'm so proud of her wanting to show me how much she knows, even when I risk losing an eye each time she wants to show me where mine is. And when she picks up all of my rugs and stands in the middle of my kitchen with the entire contents of my towel drawer scattered, she is usually wearing my oven mitt saying "hiiiii Mommy hiiii!" How can I be mad at that?
I wish I could put into words the happiness she puts into my heart. I pray God lets me keep her forever.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Friday, May 17, 2013
A blog about not blogging
So here’s the thing… blogging is stressful. I always have so much to say, but probably not the things worth writing about. I’m always talking, but about things that make people nod their head in agreement while mentally preparing their grocery list or trying to remember whether or not they turned the coffee pot off this morning before they left the house. I can tell when people aren’t paying attention to me (you’re not fooling anybody!) but I just can’t stop talking. So that’s why I find blogging so stressful. I have to talk about something meaningful... unless you want to hear me ranting about never being about to keep the towels clean. I mean, really... washing towels is a never-ending process. I’m one towel away from resorting to my beach towels because I am really over washing towels.
My mother swears that I have more to blog about. She thinks I’m a creative genius and that I should be blogging everyday about my regular ordinary life and every meal I cook. I am not someone who can just whip something up. I am also not someone who follows a recipe well. I will only be blogging about meals when I’ve stumbled onto something amazing.
If I were to be blogging about my everyday life, I’d be blogging about how I hit snooze 8 times, was late to work, was exhausted when I got off work, washed towels when I got home (towels!), played with my daughter for a few minutes before I decided that I wasn’t going to be the creative genius my mom think I am and that I’d promised my husband I would be with dinner and opt for chicken fries with your choice of dipping sauce, argued about who gets to give Lindsey her bath and went to bed with the promise of repeating it all again the next day.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my life this way. We’re boring and I happen to be perfectly content with boring.
I want to blog every day... I just don’t have enough material in my life to blog about. I’m still hoping to win the lottery so I can become a stay-at-home mom with a clean and organized house and dinner on the table by 5:30 every night. When that happens, I will have more interesting things to tell you about. But first, I need to start playing the lottery.
My mother swears that I have more to blog about. She thinks I’m a creative genius and that I should be blogging everyday about my regular ordinary life and every meal I cook. I am not someone who can just whip something up. I am also not someone who follows a recipe well. I will only be blogging about meals when I’ve stumbled onto something amazing.
If I were to be blogging about my everyday life, I’d be blogging about how I hit snooze 8 times, was late to work, was exhausted when I got off work, washed towels when I got home (towels!), played with my daughter for a few minutes before I decided that I wasn’t going to be the creative genius my mom think I am and that I’d promised my husband I would be with dinner and opt for chicken fries with your choice of dipping sauce, argued about who gets to give Lindsey her bath and went to bed with the promise of repeating it all again the next day.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my life this way. We’re boring and I happen to be perfectly content with boring.
I want to blog every day... I just don’t have enough material in my life to blog about. I’m still hoping to win the lottery so I can become a stay-at-home mom with a clean and organized house and dinner on the table by 5:30 every night. When that happens, I will have more interesting things to tell you about. But first, I need to start playing the lottery.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Stuffed bell peppers
For the first three years of my marriage, I had to listen to my husband drop hints every few months about how much he loved stuffed peppers. I'm so glad it took me three to make those peppers, because if I wasn't such a procrastinator, I'd have never found the recipe that I turned into my own.
While I was pregnant with Lindsey, it was hot. It was very hot. So I kept myself busy inside. One of my favorite things to do during the summer is canning, but that involved a lot of standing. So I settled on buying green peppers by the boatload and sitting on my couch and cutting them, hollowing them out, whatever I needed to do to them, and I froze them. I highly recommend doing this. If you can find a local farm who sells their peppers cheap, go for it. Sometimes you can find a good deal at a farmers market, but I am not the person who finds those deals. Although I can't remember if I got a half or whole bushel of green peppers, I know that I only paid around $6 for it, and either way you go, that's a great deal. Plus, they froze well and were super handy.
Anyway, it was the winter of 2011 that I decided to shut my hubby up and make him some peppers. I had several in my freezer. It was the perfect time. I used a recipe from a church cookbook as a guide to making them (shocker: I didn't have all the ingredients). I had never made them before, and I couldn't remember eating one ever, so I really had no idea what I was doing. I have used my own recipe since then. These are seriously delicious.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Stuffed bell peppers
Ingredients:
4 green bell peppers
1 pound ground beef
1 large onion, diced
Salt and pepper, to taste
1 can tomato sauce
1/4 cup ketchup
1 package (5.6 oz) chicken flavored rice (I have used many brands, including store brands)
Cheese- cheddar or Mexican blend
Cut peppers in half, removed stem and seeds. Boil in a pot of salted water for approximately two minutes. Remove from water, pat dry and place in a 9x13 pan.
Prepare the rice. I use the microwave directions.
Meanwhile, brown meat and onion, drain. I wipe out the pan thoroughly.. grease. Ew. Place back in pan, add salt and pepper, 1/2 can tomato sauce, ketchup and rice. Mix well and scoop mixture into pepper halves. Bake on 350° for 30 minutes.
Drizzle the remaining tomato sauce over the peppers and sprinkle with cheese. I use A LOT of cheese, but you can do what you want. :) Bake for an additional 5 minutes.
**I have occasionally added our favorite habanero sauce to the meat mixture just to spice it up a bit. Any pepper sauce would work, I should think.
__________________________________________________________________________________
I don't have a clue what to serve with this. I eat it by itself. My husband thinks it goes well with mashed potatoes, but he thinks everything goes well with mashed potatoes.
While I was pregnant with Lindsey, it was hot. It was very hot. So I kept myself busy inside. One of my favorite things to do during the summer is canning, but that involved a lot of standing. So I settled on buying green peppers by the boatload and sitting on my couch and cutting them, hollowing them out, whatever I needed to do to them, and I froze them. I highly recommend doing this. If you can find a local farm who sells their peppers cheap, go for it. Sometimes you can find a good deal at a farmers market, but I am not the person who finds those deals. Although I can't remember if I got a half or whole bushel of green peppers, I know that I only paid around $6 for it, and either way you go, that's a great deal. Plus, they froze well and were super handy.
Anyway, it was the winter of 2011 that I decided to shut my hubby up and make him some peppers. I had several in my freezer. It was the perfect time. I used a recipe from a church cookbook as a guide to making them (shocker: I didn't have all the ingredients). I had never made them before, and I couldn't remember eating one ever, so I really had no idea what I was doing. I have used my own recipe since then. These are seriously delicious.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Stuffed bell peppers
Ingredients:
4 green bell peppers
1 pound ground beef
1 large onion, diced
Salt and pepper, to taste
1 can tomato sauce
1/4 cup ketchup
1 package (5.6 oz) chicken flavored rice (I have used many brands, including store brands)
Cheese- cheddar or Mexican blend
Look at all that cheese!
Cut peppers in half, removed stem and seeds. Boil in a pot of salted water for approximately two minutes. Remove from water, pat dry and place in a 9x13 pan.
Prepare the rice. I use the microwave directions.
Meanwhile, brown meat and onion, drain. I wipe out the pan thoroughly.. grease. Ew. Place back in pan, add salt and pepper, 1/2 can tomato sauce, ketchup and rice. Mix well and scoop mixture into pepper halves. Bake on 350° for 30 minutes.
Drizzle the remaining tomato sauce over the peppers and sprinkle with cheese. I use A LOT of cheese, but you can do what you want. :) Bake for an additional 5 minutes.
**I have occasionally added our favorite habanero sauce to the meat mixture just to spice it up a bit. Any pepper sauce would work, I should think.
__________________________________________________________________________________
I don't have a clue what to serve with this. I eat it by itself. My husband thinks it goes well with mashed potatoes, but he thinks everything goes well with mashed potatoes.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
I murdered a cake.
Really. I did.
I have always loved to bake. I remember learning to cook in elementary school. I love to tell the story about the time I learned to make rice pudding. My Mom said that my Dad loved it, and I think I made at least three batches of it in one night. In the final batch, I misread the amount of salt to go in. It should have been 1/4 teaspoon. Well, I put in 1/4 cup. And that's why we're still talking about it almost 20 years later.
Moving on a few years... my parents once left me alone for a whole Saturday. I baked every recipe on the back of the Bisquick box. At least it all turned out to be quite tasty. How can you ruin a Bisquick recipe? *knocking on wood* Then there was the time I made cilantro lime chicken. At the time I made the recipe, I had never had cilantro before so I had no idea what I was doing. HELLO! It was awful. I would guess that in the time since then- maybe 11 or 12 years- I have yet to ingest a combined amount of cilantro as was on that one chicken breast I ate.
A few years ago, I bought an easy-to-make-and-decorate cake recipe book. I whipped up a spice cake and began to shape it into a pumpkin. I was going to frost it orange. You'd have to see it. It was going to be awesome. It was that evening that I learned that, while I can bake very tasty treats, I cannot decorate them. I can't remember the exact circumstances as to why I needed to relocate this cake, or why I needed help, but I had asked my Mom to help me move this cake. She picked it up, on either side with her hands and moved this cake. I'm not saying she lifted the cake by a plate... I'm saying she picked up the CAKE. And then declared that she couldn't have made it look any worse than it already did. Thanks, Mom.
Since then I have come to terms with my terrible decorating skills. I mean, who cares what it looks like if it is totally delicious? I don't. Actually, I take that back. If I don't know you, then it matters a lot. I do judge others by the appearance of their food. Potlucks creep me out. Moving on...
Tonight I decided to try a super yummy looking cake recipe from my Taste of Home Simple & Delicious magazine, "Quicker Blue-Ribbon Peanut Butter Torte."
Peanut butter. Chocolate. Butterfinger topping. I mean, this sounded like heaven. I'm sure you can tell by the tone of this blog that I have a horror story to tell you. I think where I went wrong was not enough heavy whipping cream. I used what I had, put whole milk in the rest, let chill, blah, blah, blah. It didn't work. It was too soupy, but I tried to assemble it anyway. First, let me say, that goop was delicious. Now let me say, I had to turn this cake into a trifle. I just picked up the cake- kind of like my Mom did the pumpkin cake- and dropped it into a bowl. Not my trifle bowl because it's holding my onions and at this point, I am way too frustrated to wash it. My husband walked in and I innocently told him I ruined the cake and he interrupted me with "you always have to make a trifle." I'm not going to complain. The man knows what a trifle is and it doesn't matter that he knows from years of my cake-making failures. I ate some of it and regardless of what it looks like, it is so good. I didn't even fool with the frosting and Butterfingers. No point. I have different plans for them- I will succeed at this cake! Just not today. Or tomorrow. But seriously, it looks GROSS:
I have always loved to bake. I remember learning to cook in elementary school. I love to tell the story about the time I learned to make rice pudding. My Mom said that my Dad loved it, and I think I made at least three batches of it in one night. In the final batch, I misread the amount of salt to go in. It should have been 1/4 teaspoon. Well, I put in 1/4 cup. And that's why we're still talking about it almost 20 years later.
Moving on a few years... my parents once left me alone for a whole Saturday. I baked every recipe on the back of the Bisquick box. At least it all turned out to be quite tasty. How can you ruin a Bisquick recipe? *knocking on wood* Then there was the time I made cilantro lime chicken. At the time I made the recipe, I had never had cilantro before so I had no idea what I was doing. HELLO! It was awful. I would guess that in the time since then- maybe 11 or 12 years- I have yet to ingest a combined amount of cilantro as was on that one chicken breast I ate.
A few years ago, I bought an easy-to-make-and-decorate cake recipe book. I whipped up a spice cake and began to shape it into a pumpkin. I was going to frost it orange. You'd have to see it. It was going to be awesome. It was that evening that I learned that, while I can bake very tasty treats, I cannot decorate them. I can't remember the exact circumstances as to why I needed to relocate this cake, or why I needed help, but I had asked my Mom to help me move this cake. She picked it up, on either side with her hands and moved this cake. I'm not saying she lifted the cake by a plate... I'm saying she picked up the CAKE. And then declared that she couldn't have made it look any worse than it already did. Thanks, Mom.
Since then I have come to terms with my terrible decorating skills. I mean, who cares what it looks like if it is totally delicious? I don't. Actually, I take that back. If I don't know you, then it matters a lot. I do judge others by the appearance of their food. Potlucks creep me out. Moving on...
Tonight I decided to try a super yummy looking cake recipe from my Taste of Home Simple & Delicious magazine, "Quicker Blue-Ribbon Peanut Butter Torte."
Peanut butter. Chocolate. Butterfinger topping. I mean, this sounded like heaven. I'm sure you can tell by the tone of this blog that I have a horror story to tell you. I think where I went wrong was not enough heavy whipping cream. I used what I had, put whole milk in the rest, let chill, blah, blah, blah. It didn't work. It was too soupy, but I tried to assemble it anyway. First, let me say, that goop was delicious. Now let me say, I had to turn this cake into a trifle. I just picked up the cake- kind of like my Mom did the pumpkin cake- and dropped it into a bowl. Not my trifle bowl because it's holding my onions and at this point, I am way too frustrated to wash it. My husband walked in and I innocently told him I ruined the cake and he interrupted me with "you always have to make a trifle." I'm not going to complain. The man knows what a trifle is and it doesn't matter that he knows from years of my cake-making failures. I ate some of it and regardless of what it looks like, it is so good. I didn't even fool with the frosting and Butterfingers. No point. I have different plans for them- I will succeed at this cake! Just not today. Or tomorrow. But seriously, it looks GROSS:
Yes, folks. That cake never stood a chance. I murdered the poor thing. But I'm still going to eat it. And it's going to be delicious.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Friendship bread
I'm always a sucker for baking. I love whenever I'm offered a starter for friendship bread. Once, I thought I would be able to start a friendship bread business (kind of) and I hoarded twelve starters. After my day of baking 24 loaves of bread, I gave up the dream and threw my starters away. Now I know better and am giving my starters away, baking two loaves of bread every ten days and freezing one loaf for later or giving one away. If you've never had friendship bread, you're really missing out. It is yummy.
The one problem I have with the bread is the piece of paper containing ten days worth of instruction. I don't do well with loose paper. I managed to hold onto this one for ten days.. and then it was gone. I decided to put it on here because then I'll always have it, and so can you.
Amish Friendship Bread
Do not refrigerate.
If air gets into the bag, let it out.
It is normal for the batter to rise, bubble, and ferment.
Day 1: Do nothing. This is the date on which you receive the bag. If the bag isn't already dated, it would be a good idea to do so. I date my baggies with day 1, day 6 and day 10 so I always know when I need to do something. Mush (squeeze the bag to get the ingredients all mixed up) the bag.
Day 2: Mush the bag
Day 3: Mush the bag
Day 4: Mush the bag
Day 5: Mush the bag
Day 6: Add to the bag 1 cup flour, 1 cup sugar, 1 cup milk. Mush the bag.
Day 7: Mush the bag
Day 8: Mush the bag
Day 9: Mush the bag
Day 10: Time to bake some yummy bread! Pour entire contents of bag into a large non-metal bowl and add 1 cup flour, 1 cup sugar, 1 cup milk.
Measure out 4 separate batches of the starter batter, 1 cup each, into 4 separate Ziploc bags (one gallon size).
Keep one for yourself and give the other 3 to friends along with a copy of this recipe/instructions. Do so before day 6 or you will be managing all 4 starters!
Now pre-heat oven to 325°.
To the remaining batter in the bowl, add:
- 3 eggs
- 1 cup oil
- 1/2 cup milk
- 1 cup sugar
- 2 tsp cinnamon
- 1/2 tsp vanilla
- 2 cups self-rising flour*
- 1 large box instant vanilla pudding (about 5.9 oz.)
In a separate bowl, mix together
- 1/2 cup sugar
- 1 1/2 tsp cinnamon
Grease or butter 2 large loaf pans. Dust the greased pans with half the cinnamon/sugar mixture.
Pour batter evenly into the pans and sprinkle the top with remaining sugar mixture.
Bake for 1 hour. Cool until bread loosens from sides of pan and turn out to serving dish.
If bag isn’t passed on to a friend on the 10th day, be certain to tell recipient which day the bag is at when given to them. If you keep a starter bag for yourself, you will be baking every 10 days.
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I recently discovered that you can make lemon friendship bread and I am super excited to try that recipe. If it works out well, I'll post it on here. :)
Friday, February 15, 2013
Insert awkward first-post-ever title here.
So, I originally started this blog back in October of 2011. And by start, I mean I created an account and let it sit for almost a year and a half. I didn't have a creative name, which I really felt like I needed. I still don't have one, but it will do...
A little about me: a twenty-something approaching my fifth wedding anniversary and a mother to the cutest (and I really do mean THE cutest) seventeen-month-old daughter ever. Ever.
Here Lindsey is six months old, and her personality is already in full-bloom. This kid is seriously a riot.
I'm typically better with written word than actually carrying on a conversation. I actually tend to ramble until I forget my words and what I was talking about to begin with. I have a wonderful family and great friends. I really feel blessed. My blog name derives from one of my very worst traits: being super stubborn. I kind of like it though. It tends to bite me from time to time, but it can be a good trait, too.
Like anyone who blogs, I intend to blog about the things I love. I really love food. I want to talk about that a lot. I love to cook and bake. I love to try new things. My poor family has suffered from weird new recipes I've tried. I still hear about the Greek spaghetti I made five years ago. It's still fresh in everyone's mind.
I have a creative side that is dying to come out, but it only surfaces briefly here and there when my friends decide to do a cool project or I've spent too long on Pinterest. Maybe if I hold myself accountable to my blog, I might do a really cool Pinterest-worthy furniture project. I usually dive into projects and recipes without completely reading the instructions (I get really excited) and then I turn everything into a huge mess. I can usually salvage a recipe. Ish.
And now for the awkward ending to my first-post-ever. I really don't know how to end this, but I have a belated Valentine's Day dinner to get to and I am starving so I'm just going to go for it!
Bye.
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