'Til My Sides Hurt: Jackson Funnies

Jackson and Amelia were arguing in their room after I had put them to bed. It was the typical "I'm the boss!" "No! I'm the boss!" argument.

Amelia came down in tears and I took her back upstairs to settle them both down. As I enter the room Jackson has started up at Amelia again. "I da boss!"

I sternly corrected him, "No, Jackson. Mommy is the boss and I told you to go to sleep."

He immediately started crying and said, "No I da boss. Not even Daddy. He a good guy an I a good guy but not even you."

Holding back laughter I ask, "Why am I the bad guy?"

Sister gives Jackson a pony tail.

"Because, you talk loudly to me!"

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When coming out of the dark bedroom into the lit up hallway, Jackson exclaims, "It shinning out here!"


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"Mom, my bed not made. It all crumbly."

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He holds up his fists and says, "Look at my muscles!"

We, of course, tell him how big his muscles are and that he is such a strong boy.

Then, with fists still balled, he says, "I gonna punch you with my muscles."

Apparently he misunderstood what part of his body we were calling muscles, so I have HH show Jackson his bicep. "Jackson, feel this part. That's daddy's muscle."

Jackson, "It's weely squissy."

Doing his "school"

P.S. We also corrected the whole punching thing. That just wasn't the cute part.

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While holding his pinky up for me to see:

"Mom! Look! I have a peekee! I weely peekee pwomise to not spit at her."

"Who aren't you going to spit at?"

"She. Hazo. I weely peekee pwomise to not spit at her."

His brother hung him here.

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"Mom, I need a snissue for my nose."

Chocolate Cake and Ramblings

This post may be a bit silly, but I feel a bit silly. It may be the chocolate cake that I'm about to tell you about. Or it may be that there's been to much serious pondering going on in my head and it needed a break. What ever the reason, here it is.

I've been on an egg free diet for four years this month and yesterday was the first time I thought about searching Pinterest for an eggless chocolate cake. I wish that this was a reflection of the level of my personal discipline, but it is not.

But enough about that. The thing is, I did search Pinterest for an eggless chocolate cake recipe. And I found one! And it's good!

I was looking for a recipe so I could make an egg free desert this weekend for our belated Christmas gathering with HH's family. When I found the recipe I was so excited about it's potential that, even though it was only and hour-and-a-half before the kid's bed-time, I bribed them with cake for breakfast if they would hurry into their jammies and sit down to let Netflix babysit them so I could make the cake. They were so excited. And unusually cooperative. When I served them their breakfast of chocolate cake this morning I encouraged (or made) them to sing, "Mommy's great! She gives us chocolate cake!"

Oddly enough, after eating the cake they all asked for eggs claiming they just needed some protein to go with their breakfast. My children are strange. And healthier than I am. Apparently I'm doing a good job at training them though!

This is the recipe.

(Note: I didn't try her frosting recipe. But the cake is good. Also, 180 degrees Celsius means 350 degrees Fahrenheit.)

I'm sure that part of my obsession with this cake is that fact that I have not had any chocolate cake in four years. But, growing up with a mom for a baker gives me (in my mind) a pretty good background in cake testing. Not that I'm bragging or anything, but I'm pretty much a professional. Except that I don't get paid. Wouldn't it be lovely to get paid to taste test cakes?!

Other things I loved about that cake: it was very moist and the texture was a lovely combination of dense and fluffy. It was denffy? Flunse?

But I really think my most favorite part of the cake it that it is supposedly an old recipe from war times when food was rationed. Thus, the egglessness. Chocolate cake and nostalgia all rolled up into one perfect package.

It may have had more of a nostalgic impact on me since I enjoyed my first piece whilst watching the first episode of the new seasons of Downton Abbey. It just felt right. I loved the episode, too. Although there were many memorable lines, my favorite was from Lady Grantham to Lord Grantham, "When you talk like that, I'm tempted to call nanny, and have you put to bed with no supper." She really makes the show.

The only downside of watching the premiere was getting to bed an hour later than I planned and needed to. I was a bit tired this morning and maybe a wee sluggish through out the day. But that may also have been from the chocolate cake I had for breakfast. 

A Recap of My 2013

I realize that this post is really more for me than anything, but I pushed the publish button just in case someone may be crazy enough to read it through and, if they were, I hope they were encouraged.

I read this post by Dave Ramsey this last week and showed it to HH because we had been discussing the "Why" of list making and setting goals. I love to. HH hates to. After he read it he turned to me and, with a laugh, said, "So basically, you should be rich and I should be poor?"

That wasn't exactly the point I was trying to get across, but whatever. I love to make lists and only recently have realized that making lists is like setting goals. For a few years I hated the idea of New Year's resolutions. They made me feel like a failure. In advance.

A few years ago, though, I changed my perspective and now, instead of seeing the list of things I failed to accomplish, I purpose to look at all I did accomplish that I probably wouldn't have without goals.

If you look at the list I wrote for last year I wouldn't blame you for assuming that I came up way short of my goal. But there is this part preceding the actual list. The part where I spilled my heart for the year on the page. When I read that today, after I had already written down my goals for 2014, I knew. I had reached my goals for 2013.

"Tomorrow is the start of a new year. In a way I look forward to the next 12 months. So much potential awaits in the white space that makes up 2013. But I'm also afraid that it will be another year that I disappoint myself. A year that I'll waste the white space and fail in so many other ways. It is disappointing to get to the end of another year and realize that my goals for the next year are no different than the previous because I failed to meet any of my goals. It's not that I haven't grown or changed. I can acknowledge that much. But I want more. I want to grow and succeed. I want this to be the last year that my weight is part of my yearly goal. I want to know more deeply who I am as defined by Christ. I don't need a different mission or an outlet. I want to be who I was created to be right where I am at. I love my husband and my kids. I love living for them. I want to be more settled into me as a wife and mom. I want to be a better friend and teacher to my kids. But I know I'll only find that in knowing who I am in Christ."

After this I wrote my goals.

My first written goal was to read through the Bible. I'm so proud of myself. I got half way through my reading plan. I've never read that much of the Bible in one year.

My second written goal was to FINALLY lose the weight I've been struggling with for too many years to count. I listed the actual numbers, something I won't do here. :) And if you looked at those numbers and then at my scale while I'm standing on it and saw that I only lost 10 pounds this last year, you'd probably raise an eye brow and tell me I have a pretty face. ;) But the true weight I lost was a weight in my heart. And I honestly can say I met my goal.

It's not that I needed for me to lose an allotted amount of weight last year. What I wanted was to find freedom from using food as a drug. I wanted to look into my heart and my past and take care of the wounds, release the bitterness, and forgive the offenses that I was holding onto and replaying over and over when I was down. All of those things always left me feeling a need to medicate or numb myself. It was more than I could take. And so I would eat. Some people drink. Some people smoke. Some use drugs. I ate.

It's not that I don't plan to loose any more weight. It's just that it's not just about the weight anymore. And I still struggle, but not like I used too. This last year I learned how to fight. I was encouraged by this quote from Joyce Meyers, "You are not fighting for victory. You are fighting FROM victory." My view has changed.

I wish I would have had the freedom to journey through it here with you all so maybe it wouldn't seem so random of me to say it now, but I just couldn't. Somethings are too personal and somethings are just hard for me to put into words. I will say I read/worked through the Lose It For Life book and journal and it was one of the main tools this year that helped me find freedom.

My other written goal for 2013 was to save a certain amount of money. That so didn't happen. But again, even though this year has been hard, I'm happy and excited about where HH and I are financially. Not because we have tons of money, but because it feels like we are finally working towards the same goal. (We wrote out a budget for January and are trying to stick to it like glue. Shhhhhh! Don't tell HH that we really made a list and goals! He may be tempted to burn it just for the sake of being right!)

As for the other desires I wrote down, even though I feel like I am failing in so many areas multiple times a day as a wife and mom, I am so proud of how far I have come. Maybe some of the change has come from realizing that every day doesn't have to look the same for us to be productive (list making/efficiency addict finds freedom!).

I know that a big change happened when I realized that I love my life. That may sound strange, but I think I was afraid of admitting that I love to homeschool and spend most of my time with my kids. I felt like I was supposed to want more. Not that I don't ever need a break, but I truly love what I do. I don't homeschool and stay at home with my kids out of fear or because it's easy or because my husband makes me (which is what I used to think :)) or even out of conviction. I do it because I want to. Because I love it. This is what I always wanted to do, and I am so glad I get to do what I love.

I just read this quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald and I think it really sums up what I accomplished in 2013:

"For what it's worth; it's never too late to be whoever you want to be. 

I hope you live a life you're proud of, and if you find that you're not, 

I hope you have the strength to start all over again."

I feel like I reach my ultimate goal of 2013. Knowing more deeply who I am in Christ. And really, that's the main purpose behind my goals for 2014.

The Christmas Pajamas 2013 and traditions

I was at a Christmas party recently where guests were asked to share a Christmas family tradition. Since we are really still a young family we don't have many traditions yet. Only in the last few years have we done a whole Christmas Eve and Christmas day with just our little clan so we are still creating those traditions. I think I shared the tradition that you'll see in this post; the kids in their Christmas Eve pajamas.

As others were sharing I remembered a childhood tradition but I didn't have time to share it at the party so I thought I would share it here. Because it's that good.

Growing up our family had quite a few traditions. Some we loved and some we have been okay letting go of. This one falls in the middle. Our Great Grandma, or Old Old Grandma as we called her, lived in Idaho and so every year she sent presents. She would call our mom early in the fall, ask our ages and sizes, and then drive herself to Sears and buy us clearance underwear... from the women's department. Big, taupe granny panties.

Our family's tradition was to open presents from our out of state family on Christmas Eve and then presents and stockings from our parents on Christmas morning. We all have strong, humorous memories of the anticipation and dread of opening Old Old Grandma's gifts.

We anticipated finding out who got the largest most hideous pair that year, but we dreaded knowing what we were getting. Because it wasn't just a monstrous pair of granny panties that we were receiving. We also received the privilege of  returning said underwear to Sears in after-Christmas crowds, getting an in-store credit of $4.95 per child and then trying to figure out what the heck you could buy with $4.95 from Sears. Plus the humiliation of returning huge taupe granny panties.

Needless to say, we were all pleased when Old Old Grandma started sending $5 checks in individually labeled envelopes.

I've thought about hiring someone to send my kids huge taupe granny panties just because the memory is such a fun one, but for now we'll start with new pajamas on Christmas Eve.

This year I wrapped all four sets in one box and included some candy and popcorn and we had a movie night after the kids got changed into their new pj's. We watched White Christmas. It was the kids' first time and I think we'll add that to our tradition.

So, to continue on with the picture tradition (although this year we didn't have a tree).

Christmas 2011

Christmas 2012

Christmas 2013

They are all so big! And wonderful! What are some of your traditions? Maybe we can borrow some. :)

A Krooked Kastle Nursery Rhyme - ish

There once was a young-ish mother who lived in a Krooked Kastle.
When with her handful of children people would stop to say, "I bet that's a hassle."

She'd look at her babies, smile wide, and offer:

"Oh there's laundry, and dishes, and meal times galore,
And Legos and hair barrettes litter my floor.

My clothes are rarely clean, my hair is in a permanent bun,
And most days reading the same book fifty times over is what we call fun.

There are tantrums and attitudes from both me and the kids,
At night they rarely stay tucked in their beds.

But let me tell you,these moments are few
Compared to this next list I have for you.

Kisses, snuggles, sweet smiles to greet me,
Presents of drawings completed so neatly.

Laughter and games, singing and books,
Inquisitive minds,and long loving looks.

Hearts that are tender, minds that are open,
All that they need is my love and devotion.

So, yes, my hands they are full, of the very best things.
When I'm with my children, this heart of mine sings.

Counting my blessings helps me to see
The beauty in them staring right up at me.

I love what I do, I hope that's easy to see.
Thank you, Dear Stranger, for chatting with me."


Counting my blessings today. May we all see them more clearly every day.

Thanksgiving Recipes: Raspberry Pretzel Salad

I've been preparing this for our celebration this year and have received lots of requests for the recipe. Here it is, updated with pictures!


This is one of a few recipes that are served every year for Thanksgiving on my side of the family. I made this to bring to Hot Hubby's family's gathering a couple of years ago and now I make it for both sides every year. It's salty, sweet, and doesn't stay around for very long.

Raspberry Pretzel Salad

Mix together:
3/4 c. melted butter
3 Tbl. sugar
2&1/2 c.thin stick pretzels, broken into 1/2 inch pieces (ish)

Evenly spread out in a 9x13 pan. Bake at 350 for 10 minutes.

Let it completely cool.

Mix together:
8oz cream cheese, room temperature
8oz Cool Whip
1 c. powdered sugar
3 Tbl. milk

Spread over cooled crust sealing off sides with creamed mixture. The creamed mixture acts as a barrier between the pretzel crust and the jello.

Mix together:
1 large raspberry Jello pkg
2&1/2 c. boiling water

Stir together until Jello is dissolved.

Add:
2-12 oz bags of frozen raspberries

Stir until thickened.

Carefully pour on top of creamed mixture. Cover and refrigerate until set. 2-4 hours.

Mommy or Servant

Sunday morning I woke up a bit frustrated. I'm not sure what all I was upset about, but later in the day after getting every one to and from church and coming home where all my family dispersed to relax expecting me to put lunch together I realized I was fighting a bad attitude. "Every one just expects things of me. No one offers to help. What would they do if I just sat down and didn't make lunch? I'm the only one who keeps things going around here."

I am thankful that I recognized the grumbling in my heart for what it was. A war. Selfishness.  I set myself to fight against it, though it was a battle that took some time. HH came in the kitchen to ask me what was wrong. After I explained my struggle he stayed and helped me finish lunch. :)

As we sat down to eat I popped an apple pie in the oven for our dessert. Of course it wasn't done right when we finished eating and all the kids grew restless and bored of the conversation we were trying to keep going to keep them entertained. By the time it was done very few of us were left in the kitchen. Mostly just me and the occasional visit from the children asking if the pie was done
 yet.

Right before I pulled it out of the oven Amelia came in sassily demanding, "Mom, I really want to taste that pie so get your booty to work."

"Hey!" I said, "You sure are being rude, missy."

Hazel had come in at the same time and agreed with me, "Yeah. Don't be rude to the servant."

I just had to stop. I stood there for a moment. One, I didn't even know how to respond. These kids leave me speechless  on a daily basis. Laugh? Correct? I don't know anymore.

Two, I knew internally I was standing at a cross-road. I could choose to let my six-year-old's innocent comment feed into the lies that I was already fighting in my head or I could see her remark for what it was. An imaginative child playing her fairy tale out in my kitchen.

The lies say my kids don't appreciate me; they don't see all the things I do for them. The truth is they see me for who I am: the one who takes care of them.Their Mom.

HH had missed the conversation so I told him about it. Hazel chimed in, "Yeah, because mommy is the servant."

"Yes," HH replied, "She is a servant. Jesus is a servant, too. Mommy is like Jesus."

Gah! So many things happened in my heart at that moment. Conviction. Encouragement. A re-girding of the truth. I can't tell you what it does to this heart that thrives on words of affirmation when my man-of-few-words talks like that!

 I love my job. I love my life. I love my husband. I love my kids. I love homeschooling. I love cooking for my family. I love caring for them. I love training them. I love being with them. I live to enjoy them. That, my friends, is my truth.

May you be encouraged to see your truth today.

Blessings!