Motherhood

Jam Making
A few weeks back our family studied
The Family: A Proclamation to The World.
This was a timely declaration made by our living prophet.
It is filled with wisdom and truth.
We discussed with the kids this line:
“Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, and wholesome recreational activities.”
We came up with the best ways our family could work on living these principles.
This is what the kids came up with:

 
Faith – Read scriptures daily.
Prayer – Everyone pray more often.
Repentence – Admitting when were wrong and saying sorry.
Forgiveness – Not being upset, loving in return.
Respect – Listening /Put ups instead of Put Downs
Love –  I cannot hurt /Breathe/Support Each Other
Compassion – Include Everyone
Work – Everyone Pitch In
Wholesome Recreational Activities – Activity Jar
 
As I pondered how to implement these things into our home I felt inspired that I needed to take the lead. I have personally been wanting to work on being actively engaged with the kids. I want to lead by example. I want to be more kind. I want to be more respectful and quiet. I want to work hand in hand.
 
I found some strawberries on sale last week.
99 cents for 2 quarts. 
That’s a steal.
The fruit was bought and so was the Sure-Jel.
It was time for some jam making.
 
I felt a feeling that instead of making jam alone that I should include the whole family.
I decided that we would forgo our typical sit down Family Home Evening lesson
and work together.
 
This turned out to be one of the best evenings we’ve spent together as a family.
We worked on the jam, each taking turns with the different jobs.
When we got through the kids burst out into a impromptu jam session.
We never work without music around here.
There was such a feeling of love and cooperation and industry.
I was so happy. 
We had Strawberry Cake for dessert and sat down to
sing, pray, and read from the scriptures about work.
The girls made up a great song.
I am so grateful to a God who listens to my prayers
and answers them.
He answers when I take time to talk to Him honestly
and to listen to Him when he talks back to me
through the Holy Spirit.
I love my family.
They are the best.
I am so glad God has given us tools to learn together and grow closer.
And now, every member of my family knows how to make jam,
but I doubt they will ever want to do it without someone with who they can jam at the same time.
What a sweet evening.
Oh and inquiring minds want to know, I am sure.
The homemade freezer jam recipe is a piece of cake.

Buy a box of sure-jel, a couple quarts of strawberries, and a lot of sugar, and you are good to go.
Make sure you have a freezer safe container.
And did I mention A LOT of sugar.
There is NO better jam in the world.
So yummy.
I’m going to have some now.
All the sudden I am starving.

Playground Dangers

While at the Fountain City Park a few weeks back, I found myself if a predicament. A very embarrassing predicament. I was stuck in the tire swing and I could not get out. So what did I do? I took my camera out of my pocket. And took a before and after.

Sophia wasn’t much help in getting me out of the swing, but she did a great job capturing the after, don’t you think?

This wouldn’t have been quite so embarrassing if the swing wasn’t in the view of the whole evening commute from Broadway. It took me 15 minutes to dislodge myself and was appropriately finished with me falling on my butt.

The funniest part is that at the end, I was hanging from the swing upside down. I was sure I would die. My arms were giving up, holding all my weight onto the swing. I din’t want to fall in the rocks. The wet rocks. But, I couldn’t figure out a way to move myself to a more graceful dismount. Sophia said, “Just let go mom. You will be o.k.” I trusted her. She was right. I was o.k. My body was only 4 inches from the ground.

What a workout.

Note to self: Tire swings are only for kids.
Only try the tree swing again if dad is around to help, or you have lost about 50 pounds.

April’s Fools

I would like to tell my mother in law that it was all just one big April’s Fools joke that we are taking her four granddaughter 2,000 miles away to live, but she would know that I was lying because she was there while we loaded every last possession of theirs onto our truck.

I would like to think that it was LG’s April’s Fools joke on me when after we loaded his car onto the truck trailer and saw the flat tire he had just let the air out instead of admitting that he never went to get his tires rotated after I had asked him too.

I would like to think that it was a big April’s Fools joke on myself when I realized that we could have e-mailed ourselves all of our maps to hotels and such instead of printing them out and losing the papers requiring a last minute trip to the library.

I would like to think that it was God’s April’s Fools joke on us when we had to load and reload our car onto the trailer four times because we couldn’t drive the car onto the trailer straight. There was also no way that LG and I in our limited truck driving experience could figure how to accurately back the thing up.

I would like to think that it was the Kitty Bear’s April’s Fools joke on us when she clawed at my skin and bit into my flesh repeatedly while trying to administer her tranquilizer, but it wasn’t a joke. Not at all.

I would like to think that it was Abigail’s April’s Fools joke on me that when I finally got out of town at 2 p.m. instead of the goal time of 8 a.m. and was 45 minutes onto the interstate that the dog wasn’t in the car. She had let him out of the car at the quick stop at the grocery store unbeknown to me.  And it was Faye’s April’s Fools joke to ask me about how Olive was doing, just to rub it in that I would have gotten all the way to our first hotel or gas stop before I realized the major mishap.

I would like to think it was the vet’s April’s Fool’s joke when this crazy lady was having a nervous breakdown in the office over her Pomeranian named Itsy Bitsy. I guess this joke was a good one because it made my previous crying in the car look very very mild. And it also made me want to start packing some Valium in my purse for such occasions. The lady need someone to slap her silly. Her dog was just fine. My dog on the other hand had probably been hit by a car finding her way back to our house across four lanes of traffic.

I would like to think it was our neighbor’s April’s Fools joke when the called to tell me they had thought we left our dog behind on purpose because they had found her howling on our front porch, but it was such a relief to know they had found her.

I would like to think it was my hood Knoxville neighborhood’s April’s Fools joke that random people were pillaging everything they could take from our yard within an hour after we left town. Probably while I was just down the street at the vet because it was now 4 p.m. and I was really finally on my way.

I would like to think that it was the State of Tennessee’s one last April’s Fools joke on us when I got to about the same exact spot I had gotten to on the first trip only to be stuck in standstill traffic for three hours. LG was stuck at the front of the line and in all the drama I had gone back to town to take care of, he only ended up arriving at the hotel an hour ahead of us because he had sat in stand still traffic for 5 hours.

I would like to think that it was my own April’s Fools joke on myself that after our whole first day of traveling, we only made it four hours into our 36 hour trip.

But even though it was April’s Fools day, all of this was true, and although hilarious in hindsight, not so laugh worthy at the time.

The silver lining was on my trip to the vet with the dog, I got a better tranquilizer for the cat. It was a liquid form that actually worked until about 1/2 hour before arrival at our hotel in Kentucky when she started going crazy once again in her cat carrier.

By far my most entertaining April’s Fools Day e v e r. And I can only say that because our dog was just fine. Just two little spots on the back of her legs that warrant some neosporin and an antibiotic.

And the dog may as well be on an antibiotic because the baby is too, for a pretty massive UTI, which kept her real nice and happy sitting in her carseat sick all day.

The miracle of it all. I have not yet been locked away. I was actually laughing at how absurd our family can be throughout the day.

And I believe God was laughing too as he thought of all the hard times I have had for the last 8 years in Tennessee and this was such a fitting closure.

Smooth sailing from here on out, I am sure of it.

Why?

Because April’s Fools was yesterday and we barely managed to cross the state-line.

Speak up Sophia.

Sophia is our quiet child. She is our low maintenance child. I am always worried that I am not giving her enough attention because to be quite honest, in a crazy house like mine, she is a breathe of fresh air. She is so easy to raise. I would never make the mistake of calling her perfect because nobody is perfect, but as far as being her mom, she is really really easy. She doesn’t require much but some food and water. Heck, she is lower maintenance than our dog. She is definitely quieter than our dog. She rarely barks. She noticed her picture and came over to read what I was writing. She says, “I do not bark.”

Well, I’ve blogged before about a big oops with Sophia. These slip ups seem to be happening more regularly. Just the other day I found myself at Walgreen’s purchasing lemon heads and chocolate ice-cream to say I was sorry for missing her school program. My husband was having a crisis and his brother stopped in on his way through town to say good-bye before we moved. With all the drama, I totally spaced that I was supposed to go to her day program to make up for the night before when I was at Abigail’s school program that took place at the exact same time. I don’t know how single moms do it; my hubby and I have to divide and conquer all too often. Well, I cried to Sophia, apologized profusely, promised to watch the video, and cautioned her that she may as well learn now that nobody is perfect and she is gonna be let down. I told her that there was only one person that would never let her down. And she said that she knew that. I said, “Well, who then?” She replied, “Jesus Christ.” Very good. I am not totally failing as a parent.

Unless you count what happened at church couple of weeks back. Sophia was assigned to give a talk to the other kids. I totally forgot. In my defense, I told Sophia on Saturday to remind me that evening and she forgot too. On the way to church on Sunday morning, I told Sophia we would just tell her leaders that we forgot or the other option was for Sophia to find a scripture to share during the first hour and just give a brief testimonial about it. Well guess what? In between the drive to church and the hour after the first meeting got out, I forgot again.

So, you can imagine my surprise when Sophia comes up to me after the three hours of church and tells me she was so embarrassed for her talk. Hard slapped open face palm to forehead kind of moment. And then I may as well have slapped myself across the face too for being such an awful mom. I apologized and asked her what she did. She said she just got up and talked and that Daddy had come to watch. What? Why didn’t daddy rescue her? They didn’t come and get me because I was teaching the women’s class, but they did go and fetch LG from the man’s class. He, of course, had no idea about all of the above on-goings and walked into the Primary room figuring that I had taken care of it.

As we talked about it on the way home from church, LG was a doting father. He said that she pulled it off rather well. She pretty much just rambled about how she knows the Bible to be the true word of God. (I would say that has to count for something that she even knew on her own to talk about such a serious topic). LG then went on: She then clammed up and got quiet. She turned her head to the side and whispered to the Primary leader, “I am so embarrassed.” The kids heard. They chuckled. It lightened the moment, and she was able to finish it out.

Sophia had succeeded in filling her alloted time. LG was proud. The primary children had been entertained. The primary leader had been fooled into thinking that Sophia was overcome by the Spirit of God, but just for a second until Sophia proclaimed her embarrassment. I was left once again hoping to improve as a mother, but overall I count it a success. Mostly because our whole family laughed consistently for an hour after church while Sophia retold the experience over and over again.

I am pretty sure that the next time she has a talk, she won’t forget to remind me to help her. Or and this is a big OR the next time Sophia will tell her Primary President she dropped the ball OR the girl is gonna get pretty good at winging it. It’s not like we haven’t given her plenty of opportunity for practice.

French Toast for the Masses
I hate cooking. No, I should say I really don’t enjoy cooking. I do it. I do it all the time. I’m even good at it. I would call myself a good cook. I am a cook who hates to cook, but I am also a cook who can put a smile on your face. Still I think it is safe to say cooking is just not my thing; it just happens to be a resume builder I have gained while living in survival mode for the past 13 years.
When LG and I got married, I cried when I realized that it was my responsibility to feed my husband and future children and it would be for THE REST OF MY LIFE. Cried would not be a totally fair assessment. I bawled one night while cooking, and I continue to cry inside every time I am magnetically stuck in the room of my house that sports a fridge, sink, and stove. Now I know I am gonna hear it from my naysayer our there who believes in women’s rights, but from the get-go, I embraced my control over things inside the home. I more than embraced it. I, for lack of better words, peed over the threshold between family room and teeny tiny studio apartment kitchen, as my way of saying, “hands off man, this is my territory”. The kitchen would be my domain. 
Man, I was such a fool. LG was more than happy to step aside for food duty, even though we were both working and going to school full-time. And not to my surprise and even to my blame, today the guy only has a handful of choices that he can pull off that involve a wooden spoon and pan, and most of them are in the breakfast category, come frozen, or out of a box. And I am smacking my forehead against my keyboard as I realize how totally stupid I was back then.
So, I live with the stubborn hell I have created. I cook. Even when I don’t want to. In the past few years, while there hasn’t been wiggle room in the budget for enough pizza and hamburgers ordered from other people’s kitchens, I have learned many tricks.
I have very reliable go-to’s. I keep staples in the house for each recipe. One happens to be french toast. It only takes six ingredients that I usually have on hand. My kids love it and so do I. My husband tolerates it, but if he was more worried about eating his favorites, he might ask me to teach him how to cook them. hint hint.
Before I share the flawless recipe, let me tell you two tricks that will make this easy peezy meal turn into 10 easy peezy meals.

One, make a TON at a time.

Stick them all in a gallon size ziplock.
They have lasted for at least a week at my house.
Reheat them as needed in a toaster.
(Note: the toaster trick was discovered by my hubby, 
who is a saint, 
and takes on breakfast duty at our house 
while I am trying to pry my eyelids open)
The other trick is a little easier.
Buy the kind of syrup shown above.
It’s short enough to be heated in the microwave.
French toast are so much better with hot syrup.
I just refill this container with the cheapest syrup I can find, 
saving myself $2 a pop.
Once in a while I will make my own syrup, which is also very tasty.
You can add one last trick if you want. It would be the one where you teach the kids how to wash the griddle. We are still trying to get this one down at our house.

Guess what is the best feature of french toast: LG knows how to make it!!

Here are my recipes for the sharing. Do any of you have any tips on how you keep your french toast from getting soggy? I am usually 80% successful but not sure how.
French Toast
4 eggs
1 + 1/2 cups milk
1 tsp ground nutmeg
2 tsp vanilla extract
2 pinches of salt
12 slices bread
Beat together egg, milk, nutmeg, vanilla and salt.
Heat butter on a griddle heated to medium.
Quickly dip bread in egg mixture and transfer to hot buttered griddle. Cook both sides until lightly browned and crisp.
Homemade syrup
2 cups white sugar
1 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup karo syrup
1 cup boiling water
1/2 tsp maple flavor extract
Boil together until sugar is completely dissolved.

Just Ask Alice – Inception (Spanking)
Dana and I go way back. All the way back to California in the 80’s, where she thought I was the coolest girl at camp and decided she wanted to be just like me when she grew up. She has done pretty well with that, except to really pass the Alice look alike test I think she will have to put on a few pounds. Like 100 or so.
A few years ago, Dana and I were shocked to run into each other, after 20 years, at church in Atlanta, where we thought it odd that we both had three children (I believe all of hers were girls) and attorney husbands.

Here is a link to her website, where you will see that she is a talented photographer. I  love her style. You can also like her on facebook. And even though her photography is the bomb, let me tell you that Dana is a hoot. I would pay her to take my picture just because I know she could get a real smile out of me. She may not even have to say anything. Just looking at her makes me laugh. She has the vibe.
Dana came up with the idea for Just Ask Alice.
She said she thinks I could give good advice. Little does she know that I have spent my whole adult life-hood learning how to keep my opinions and advice to myself. Or maybe she does know that (or even relates) but she is flattering me and laughing behind my back as she sends me to my own destruction.
But, I like the idea of having things to write about. Things that interest my readers.
Great picture to go with spanking, eh? It was Dana’s idea.
Did I tell you how much I LOVE her photography?
And her sense of humor?

Dana’s question that I will answer:

How do you feel about spanking?
Don’t do it. Unless it’s for your husband. My husband deserves a bunch of spankings right now, but it’s all good cause he likes being spanked.
But really, while raising four children, I have come to realize that spanking is absolutely ineffective.

To show you the proof: My mom used to line us up as kids and spank us with wooden spoons. It didn’t have ANY, not one iota of influence on our behavior, except for making us laugh. And see how I turned out? Good argument, eh?

My mom was a successful spanker. Why? Because she never spanked out of anger. She slapped me as a teenager out of anger, but that wasn’t the question. And in her defense, I pretty much deserved it.

We quit spanking when our oldest was about three, at about the same time we got rid of the pacifier. And while I am writing this, I am realizing that I think there was a connection between the two. Once she was free of the paci and could talk back a whole lot more, I found myself getting more and more out of control with my anger and the more I spanked the more she acted aggressively.

I’ve heard that some children respond to spanking better, but I think I can honestly say that I have many different personalities represented by my children, my siblings, nieces and nephews, and friends’ children and none need to be spanked.

I know I know. Spare the rod, spoil the child. God never said the rod had to come in the form of spanking. We prefer the punishment techniques of withdrawal, torture, humiliation, and time-out.

Keep posted for our children’s future blogs where they discuss all they overcame in therapy.

What’s your take on the subject? Maybe you actually have something smart to say?

Leave me a question for a future Just Ask Alice and I will give you a shout out with the answer.

Dr. Seuss Day

As many of you know, March 2nd is officially Dr. Seuss Day. Our school decided to celebrate a little bit later. Today the kids had the option to dress up like a Seuss character.

I will be the first to admit that I was so happy when they confided in me that they didn’t want to dress up.

“It’s not worth it. It’s too much work”, they said.

I was happy counting my fortune and then changed gears and wondered if it wasn’t too late to convince them to participate. I started to worry if I was teaching my kids to be lackadaisical. All sorts of things started flying through my mind: chore charts, money lessons, bribing techniques, desperate measures, and many other memories associated with teaching the kids to work.

I quickly snapped out of it. Should it really be a life crisis that my kids don’t want to do an optional dress up for school? It’s not like they’ve never dressed up before.

I quickly googled the master himself to see if any of his writings would back me up:

“Be who you are and say what you feel,
 because those who mind don’t matter
and those who matter don’t mind.”

I don’t care if the kids dress up and I am pretty sure that the people at school who may think it matters, really won’t mind if my kids don’t participate.

And just that fast I felt free.
It didn’t require going here or there.
Or eating green eggs or ham.
Or counting fish.
Or dressing up a cat in a hat.

It just required this mom to let go of her own issues to give her kids some space to underachieve.

If you want to read something funnier about Dr. Seuss that is slightly inappropriate for children (wink wink) go here. You will laugh.

Really Sick

On Friday morning, I was surprised to find Abigail and Sophia ready to go while Bella was still laying on the couch in her jammies. LG explained that he told Bella she could stay home from school as she had thrown up minutes before.

“Alright”, I said, “but you look fine to me Bella, maybe you should try to go.” Bella was having none of that. I let her stay home. She acted fine all day long.

I picked up Abigail after school; Bella was at home with Daddy and wasn’t in the car for the conversation. Abigail felt it pressing to explain to me that Bella had succeeded at faking it. I told dad this morning that she did not throw up.


All she did was burp and spit.

As Abigail tattled away, I was thinking to myself that I wished I was a morning person so I could catch these things better. I was also thinking it was o.k. because Bella entertained her baby sister while I went back to bed for a few more zzz’s. And this mom can never get enough sleep. So if you don’t like how I roll, just pretend I was sick. I can also burp and spit on demand.

My voice

A friend had this video posted on facebook tonight.

It didn’t make me want to sing; it made me want to listen.

It made me want to use my voice better as a mother.

No more screaming. Only loving.

No more criticizing. Only encouraging.

No more frustrations. Only moments to embrace.

I am blessed by God to raise four beautiful daughters.

Sometimes I fail miserably, but because of God’s grace, I still have a shot every day at being their biggest fan. I get every day to become the kind of mother I want to be.

I hope someday when I am gone, and they are hanging with their children or grandchildren, my girls will have a moment when they say to themselves: “That was the voice of my mother coming out of my own mouth.” And I hope whatever they said was something that I would be proud of.

Not so glee

I have this problem.
I can hardly admit it.
It’s an addiction that a Mormon doesn’t like to talk about.
We try to keep it in the closet as much as possible.

Once in a while it just comes bursting out though.
I need to rid myself of the guilt.
The Glee induced guilt.
It doesn’t feel glee.

Yesterday I was sitting watching the show after school.
Hulu is my best friend, ever since Caroline lost our digital converter remote.
The girls gathered around.
I always get nervous about this.
I know I shouldn’t let them watch such trash.
This episode was particularly trashy.
I try to justify saying it gives us an open communication
about the evils of today’s world.

Well the show was all about under-aged drinking.
Just as the girls gathered around,
the main characters were gathering at a party.
Before I knew it, they were all drinking heavily
and doing stupid things associated with intoxication.

I said, “See kids, this is why Dad and I won’t allow you to go to parties where there is drinking.”

Later, Bella wandered off for an after school snack.
As she came walking back towards our TV viewing via PC,
she immediately noticed that the characters
had advanced to drinking at school.
Without missing a breathe, she hollars,
“See Mom, this is why you shouldn’t allow us to go to school.”