Posts filed under ‘My Goofy Life and Motherhood Uncensored’
Just in case you’ve been dying to know where I’ve gone… here I am in all my baby glory.
It’s no wonder I haven’t had time for two blogs. To keep up with the most recent events visit Blog Schmog.
As most of you know cooking is not my favorite thing to do but since the majority of our large family has to eat gluten free, some need dairy free and one needs several other dietary considerations, I don’t get out of it often. EXCEPT when my Hubby and favorite chef gets into the kitchen. I’m so blessed!
So, I posted the following question on a gluten free group I am a part of and got a ton of feedback. Would you like to add your two cents? We can keep this list going over the years and hopefully it will be a good resource for others as well.
Okay everyone, desperate times call for desperate measures.
The baby should be coming in less than five weeks and we’ve eaten up all the freezer meals I made in advance.
That’s what happens with six people in the house already!
Needless to say I’m tired of the same ol’ same ol’.
So, your mission is to post or link your all time favorite freezer meals.
Here are some of the ideas we have already come up with.
seasoned taco meat (not pre packaged seasoning/most has gluten)
broth for soups (noodle soup with easy homemade GF noodles, veggie soup, egg drop, chicken and rice, onion soup, beef stew with rice or potatoes)
freeze rice for meals or breakfast (with cinnamon/brown sugar)
season meat while fresh and freeze to put into a crock pot with carrots and potatoes
lasagna or no-noodle lasagna (one of my most popular recipes)
muffins (recipe linked below)
EDITED TO ADD:
burrito casserole (layer anything you would have in a burrito with corn tortilla’s and tomato sauce on top)
The Nourishing Gourmet had a similar post and tons of great ideas too.
I did finally get to read to my neighbor. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.
My friend whom I met with in regard to God’s harebrained plan about reading to her husband the doctor, was glad to see me and optimistic about our arrangement. Unfortunately her husband had fallen asleep and she was not able to readily wake him so instead of introducing us she left me with her eleven year old daughter while taking her other kids to youth group.
Waiting made my anxiety worse. My husband had asked earlier in the day if I was nervous and at that time I was not, even when I showed up I was not but sitting there I began to entertain my reservations.
What will he think of this crazy plan? Will he think I intend to evangelize him without compassion. I bet he is wondering if whatever I have planned will allow him yet another chance to sleep or let his thoughts wander.
I chatted with my heart in my throat, nervous about what to do if he woke. At last we heard him coughing in the other room and that darling little girl got up and ran into his room exclaiming, “Good morning, sleeping beauty!”
It was actually six at night!
“Do you wanna meet a new friend?” she exclaimed and beckoned with her hand for me to enter.
Thank you Lord!
I had been so nervous about how to approach him and yet this lovely little girl had taking away all tension with her plucky introduction.
Lord, help me not to talk down to him, help my conversation to be comfortable and respectful. Lord give me the right words so that I don’t pity him but that your love shows through me and your hope is evident without my having to preach at him. Jane and I want so badly for him to learn to trust you, help me to understand your timing.
She left us alone and I sat beside his bed and began to explain why I had chosen the book that I did. Despite the fact that God clearly directed me to read House, by Ted Dekker and Frank Peretti, I had many other reasons for agreeing with Him and I shared those. 🙂
As I spoke I took in a couple quick glances at the pictures above the bed, they were of healthier times for the doctor and I was shocked at the stark difference. Though he had thick cotton white hair even then, it was silky and bright . Now his hair was a coarse gray mat against his head. He had been a big man with a broad inviting smile. Now, emaciated and limp, his smile ghoulish, his head appearing too large on his skeleton frame. My heart ached.
I opened my book and read stopping now and again to take a sip of water and allow him to cough.
We finished one chapter and I paused to talk a little about myself. I told him briefly about each of my kids and that I felt blessed to know his family. His daughter came in to check on us and I took another drink of my water while conversing with her.
I read another chapter and twice I made major mistakes that sent us both into laughter. His eyes sparkled and he tried to laugh but it caused a coughing fit. I winced at the pain it seemed to cause him as he gagged and sputtered. I could not believe that I was sitting there, next to a man who was so incapacitated and yet the Lord was allowing us to fellowship. I was not disturbed by the monitors and wheelchair. My mind was filled with compassion and my heart longed only for him to know my Jesus and accept the promise of complete healing whether on earth or in heaven.
I read a total of three chapters and in the third had another laugh fumbling around with my voice attempting to recreate a “booming” male voice.
Though I had seen the sparkle in his eye and thought I made him laugh it was hard to be sure how he was taking it until his daughter ran to her mother the minute she arrived and exclaimed “He was so into it, I haven’t seen him that alert!”
My reservations were wiped away and the Lord graciously confirmed that His thoughts are completely different from ours…and His ways are far beyond anything we can imagine.
I read again soon and will be sure to keep you updated.
“My thoughts are completely different from yours,” says the Lord. “And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine. For just as the heavens are higher than the earth so are my ways higher than your way and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.”
“The rain and snow come down from the heavens and stay on the ground to water the earth. They cause the grain to grow producing seed for the farmer and bread for the hungry. It is the same with my word. I send it out and it always produces fruit. It will accomplish all I want it to and it will prosper everywhere I send it. You will live in joy and peace. The mountains and hills will burst into song, and the trees of the field will clap their hands! Where once briers grew, myrtles will sprout up. This miracle will bring great honor to the Lord’s name; it will be an everlasting sign of his power and love.”
Who hasn’t climbed in behind the clothes in the closet of a “spare oom”, held her breath and waited for a friend or a sibling as they counted, “twenty eight, twenty nine, thirty. Ready or not here I come!”
So many childhood memories as well as childhood fantasies are wrapped up and delivered in my favorite book series by C.S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia.
Entertaining? Yes. Imaginative? Yes. But beyond that the books are chock full of God’s promised and incredibly deep introspective concepts. C.S. Lewis was in short brilliant and an amazing man of God. His faith was a deep challenging faith that even in these childrens books an adult can find peace and restoration, struggle and triumph.
Entertaining. Yes, but the Narnia series is ageless.
If you have seen the movies but not read the books, you are really missing out!
I’ve just discovered the Children’s Classics carnival over at 5 Minutes for Books, and it has been a great way to get to know other moms. I’ve also discovered a bunch of new books I need in my bookcase! 😉
“We were, wanna be rebel’s who didn’t have a clue…
in our rockin’ roll t-shirts and our ty-pi-cal bad attitudes.”
That was my best friend and I! There was one summer when we were sixteen, we had way too much fun. For us girls it was long horseback rides wearing shorts and moccasins riding home in the dark. It was that time at dusk a coyote stalked us for over half an hour. It was running our horses with the elk in the vast Idaho woods around her house. It was skinny dipping in the lake or better yet jumping in fully clothed and then getting the worlds worst saddle sores riding home wet! She got hurt so much that year her parents dubbed their place “Kicking Horse Ranch” in honor of our antics. Guess I shouldn’t wonder where my kids get it! This was one of those kicking horse stories.
It was spring breakup, the time the loggers have to find other things to do because the ground is so soft and muddy. It’s a great time for riding horseback and we hadn’t been out in ages. Forgetting all inhabitions we bridled the horses in the field and took off down the mountain. We were so anxious we didn’t bother to follow the proper steps; halter, brush, tack, bridle then go. I gave her a leg up onto her dun mare and then, while she held my horse I backed up far enough to get a few good steps running and lept onto my appaloosa hooking my left arm over her tall wither, then shimmyed myself up onto her back. It was slow and not at all graceful. Later into the summer we could swing on bareback with ease but it was spring and our riding muscles were weak so we scrambled up any ol’ way we could manage.
Away we went.
Our girls, Kyanne and Shadow were smoked, heads held high, ears perked and prancing up the logging trail as we giggled and sang in our best Reba accent,
“I remember it ah-all very weh-ell, lookin’ back it was the summer I turned eighteen. We li-ived in a one room, run down shack on the outskirts of New-ooo Orleans.”
She picked up the pace and I followed then gave her a mischievious look, nodded and leaned forward to indicate I wanted to race. Without a word she slapped her mare gently on the rump taking her from a trot to a run. Shadow picked up her feet faster and faster galloping ahead to meet my challenge.
The trees whipped by like dark fence rails… one, two, three. Faster and faster we went. Now five rails at a time, now ten. We were flying!
Bareback at a full gallop our seats no longer touched the horses. We knew we needed to slow down because up ahead the road would switch back and start up the steep mountain. Out of breath I tried to rein in my horse. Fighting for balance and leverage I bumped on Kyanne’s back.
Bump, yank, bump, yank.
I hated to yank on her but she wasn’t responding. She was usually so good but her instinct was too strong. I could not get her to stop!
My friend was a good couple yards ahead of us not having any more luck with her horse Shadow.
“I can’t STOP!” she hollered into the wind!
The hairpin turn was fast approaching. The trees were still flashing past by the dozen. Up ahead the road had washed out from a stream caused by melting snow. Shale had collapsed down the steep shoulder into our path.
I watched helplessly as Shadow slowed and kicked up her heels to attempt to strike my horse and maintain her lead. My friend swung herself off the side, still hanging onto the reins and was dragged face first into the mud in front of me.
I was pulling with all my might but desperately trying not to fall off when my horse lurched to the right and up the steep incline of shale and falling rock. We scrambled and slid down toward the heap that was my best friend.
Forgetting the reins, I wrapped my arms around Kyanne’s neck and squeezed my eyes shut letting out a weak scream as my little Indian horse pushed off from the bank and lept over my huddled friend.
It took less than two seconds but it felt like an eternity. I peeked through one eye as we sailed over the top of her and then squeezed both eyes shut again to brace for the landing.
She landed and stopped.
Still wrapped around her neck I slowly let out a stifled breath, “whoa.”
I quickly dismounted and made a feeble attempt to catch Shadow who was undisturbed by the events and happily eating grass. She took one look at me and bolted for home.
My best friends head was bleeding, I had noticed it the minute I opened my eyes but she insisted I catch her horse. Not wanting to alarm her I followed her directions until the horse took off then turned back to her, purposely defeated.
She put her hand to her head and brought it down in front of her face covered in blood. “I’m bleeding!”
I responded in a calm monotone, “I know.” I was not calm but had to think clearly, this was no time to panic.
The blood trickled all the way down to the bottom of her long blond hair and began to pool on the ground behind her but she was alert and sitting up so I was optimistic. We were a good couple miles from home and left with only one horse.
I asked if she thought she could stand up while secretly trying to see if her eyes were dilated. My dad, being an EMT and firefighter by trade was a safety nazi and prepared me constantly for emergency situations and concussions. To my recolection I had never had to use my “expertise”. Yet!
I had an extra shirt so I used it to provide pressure on the cut and attempt to stop the bleeding. Slowly she clamored to her feet and I let her lean on my horse. We began the long walk back.
“Well, you won!” I teased.
“Very funny Jess.” she grumbled and rolled her eyes holding the wadded up shirt awkwardly atop her head.
When Shadow arrived home without a rider my friend’s brother was sent down on his motorcycle to see if we needed help. He roared up and skidded to a stop, took one look at his sister and went into panic mode!
“Get on I’ll take you home!”
Yeah right, she will be real safe on your dirt bike as you race her back up the hill in a frenzied panic!? I worried silently.
My friend was quick to think, “I’m okay, just go get the farm truck” she instructed.
He started his cycle back up, revved the engine a couple times, did a donut in the gravel and raced back up the mountain spitting rocks at us as he retreated.
“Hrmph,” I snorted, “I hope he makes it back safely!”
Once again we were left in silence. We sat down in the grass beside the road and stared into the blue sky. Why do these things always happen to us? I sighed heavily and knelt to peel back the shirt just enough to see if the bleeding was beginning to slow. It looked good to me but what did I know.
Once the pickup returned I mounted Kyanne and rode the rest of the way home in silence. I knew my friend would be okay but it could have been much worse! I trembled a little as the adrenaline left my body and praised God for His hand in the situation….
Thank you Lord for protecting us even in our stupidity!
Her mom and I washed the wound and joked about whether or not we could tape her sliced scalp back together. She felt no real pain, just a dull headache and had no signs of concussion. Still we decided she had better go to the ER and have it checked out. I don’t remember exactly how many stitches she got but I do remember sitting there begging the doc not to cut her beautiful hair!
Today I had lunch with the man of my dreams.
I sat side by side with a man who absolutely sets my heart aflutter.
Let me see if I can begin to do him justice.
He is stocky yet athletic and tends to dress a bit grunge. Remember that? He has the most incredibly blue eyes you have ever seen. Looking into them is a dream, I can hardly keep myself contained when I peer into those glassy blues with such innocence and love. Not to mention he has flawless skin with a smattering of freckles across his cheeks that only serve to add to his sunny countenance.
The two of us have a bit of a language barrier. I have to listen hard to understand what he wants to portray to me but words do not have to pass between us for kindred hearts to speak. He is an open book and a man after God’s own heart. The humblest of the humble, a true member of the kingdom of Christ.
We ate the simplest of meals but my joy has rarely been so complete. He requested pb&j and couldn’t be persuaded otherwise. I ate the same and watched in wonder as he licked his fingers, finishing every morsel. No meal with this man would be complete without a glass of juice and a swipe of the hands down the front of his recently clean-ish shirt.
Who is it?
Certainly not the ONLY man of my dreams.
None other than…
My man, aka Bubba.
No his eyes aren’t quite that blue but I had fun editing since I rarely have time for such extravagance!
I have a dilemma. There is a neighbor with an eight year old son who is a whirlwind, to put it nicely. Usually I tend to avoid allowing my boys to spend time with kids that I don’t want them picking up bad habits from, but this boys happens to be the son of our 4-H leader and a good friend of mine. Sigh!
Tonight is the kickoff bbq and I am terrified that my boys, being younger than he is, will come home after spending an hour or so with this kid and be saying things like “Oh god!” and acting maniacal. Not to mention that for this family money is not an object and they have every toy known to man including all the video game systems and state of the art computer equipment.
At our house, partly out of necessity ;), we emphasise non-monetary contentment and I struggle big time with Thing Two and his addictive nature toward video games. That amounts to their dad’s old Nintendo on rare occasions and three days a week he is allowed to earn time at a free online game where a quad goes forward and backward on a two dimensional track. So nothing fancy at all.
I guess what I’m wondering is how do I prepare them for time with this boy since it is not possible to keep them segregated from every ornery boy on the planet! I’m sure mine can come up with lots of their own trouble too.
Do I sit them down and have a “talk” about not conforming to other’s standards?
Do I prepare them for the sorts of thing he might say (and that I’ve heard him say) and mention how his disrespect of his mother will not be tolerated by me?
I truly love this family and I dont’ want my boys going in saying, “My mom said….” But I love my boys more and I want to prepare them in the most Godly but not condescending way.
Did that make any sense at all?
What are your thoughts?
Don’t you think my “jail” pictures are appropriate? Hee hee!
The boys and I absolutely love this missions minded textbook. It was recommended by a blogger friend and is a must have! Thanks Karen!
Each two page spread gives you a thorough look into a different people group of the world, mostly through the eyes of a child in that nation. It details struggles and successes in reaching that group for Christ and has a section on how you can pray. My boys practically fight over the prayer requests each day. They love to hear the stories about boys and girls in other countries and even my two year old is learning.
When Matt came home from work the other day, a good 5hrs after we read about how God healed Niki in Albania and learned to say hello in Albanian, Bubba hollered “Tungjatjeta (toon-jat-yeta) Dad!”