gollyjess~

Quickly...

2012-02-08T07:01:00.000-08:00

Here are a quick few things to remember:

Alma wrote out his numbers from 1 to 120! His 7's and 9's were backwards, but he finished what he set out to do, homework that didn't even have to be finished. He just wanted to do it! I love that kid. We have also started to take piano lessons, with me as the teacher. He loves it. And, last night he helped with every aspect of grocery shopping. He tries so hard to be obedient. Lately, at the end of every day, he says: "This has been my best day ever!" I'll take that.

Abrams won't get off Daddy's Xoom--ANGRY BIRDS! He is convinced that monsters are real, I love it! And he thinks he is a robot. And, of course he wants to do everything that Alma does so he helped with every part of grocery shopping too! And Abrams favorite color must be blue, as evidenced by his frequent saying: "My Blue! My blue!"

Elden just achieved another milestone, right this second!! He rolled from his back to his front! Hurrah! And, he slept through-through the night! 9 pm- 6 am. He is also desperately trying to figure out crawling. It is hilarious. He just swims on his tummy, but he wants to go go go! We tried to feed him cereal, but he stopped pooping, so I am holding off for a while. And, what else? He is now very interested in people, toys, and surroundings.

Must run, Elden is objecting to blogging!

Wee Elden

2012-02-01T20:29:00.000-08:00

Alright, Elden has had me confuzzled since day 1. Me and newborns. Newborns and me. That's all I can say, while shaking my head slowly. I just don't get them. How, and when, are you supposed to get them to sleep? To eat? To be normal? Like my other kids?! Not to mention the wrench that is thrown into all of this if they happen to get sick. For about half of their known life. Egads! It is no wonder I cried some serious tears when I found out last January what I would be doing this January. But, on that note, I would not give Elden back for anything in the world.

But, somewhere in all of this mess that has been my life for the last four months, I happened to surf upon the perfect website: http://www.babysleepsite.com/schedules/4-month-old-schedule/ . It has been my life saver! It told me what I had been doing wrong with my child, and that I was expecting too much from this sweet little pea. Silly me, I was trying to get that kid to sleep and eat on a 9 month schedule as opposed to the 4 month schedule that he deserved. So now, instead of trying to get him to take 2.5 naps a day, he is taking 4-5 naps a day, and sleeping a good chunk of the night.

Anyway, he is crying now, so I will leave you with a few (million) pictures of a recent cry fest I captured. Take it away Elden!

I Am No Food Photographer

2012-02-01T20:08:00.000-08:00

But I do like to dabble in cooking now and then, here and there. Lately, I have noticed that I am losing hair. By the handful. Every time I am in the shower or brush my hair, it just seems to be falling out. How is anyone else not noticing this? Do I have a bald spot that people are pointing at behind my back?! Ack, oh the humanity!

Just kidding, I am pretty sure I heard somewhere along the line that after pregnancy, your hair falls out like mad. At least, it has after every child I have ever had. But, I thought, hey, why not beat the odds and eat a hair-healthy diet. You have heard of the heart healthy diet, right? If you haven't, I believe I posted about it a very long time ago, like right back near the beginning. The hair-healthy diet is pretty much the same, and I could go on and on about that 'strange' co-inky-dink, but that is another post all together. I had hoped to introduce my first recipe post here, now, today!

So, without further ado:

Salmon Sweet Potato Cakes and Split Pea side dish! (Salmon, Eggs, and Legumes being part of the hair-healthy diet).

All the ingredients assembled: 1 can of salmon, bread crumbs, mashed sweet potatoes, eggs, onion.

Mush them up all in a bowl, like so. Come on, don't be shy!

Pat out a patty, and slap 'em into some bubbly extra virgin olive oil.

Brown on both sides, et voila!

Stewed Curried Split Peas with Tomatoes, delish!

Okay, so here is the run down, after you have seen the pictures. And like I said in the title, I am no food photographer, and I am making no attempt to be a food blogger. I just thought that I might take a few pictures to see what it was like. I got way too much food on my camera to consider doing so again, and it took some of the fun out of cooking.

Salmon Sweet Potato Patties with Greek Yogurt Dill Pickle Dip:

Patties:
1 can salmon, no bones
2 sweet potatoes, peeled, boiled, mashed
1 onion diced
1 egg, perhaps 2
Handful and a half of bread crumbs
Salt and Pepper
Olive Oil for frying

Sauce:
1 single serving container of Fage Greek Yogurt
2-3 dill pickles, chopped

Mix together.

Mix altogether in a bowl. I used a fork to do this. You can use whatever you want! Form patties.
Pour Olive Oil into frying pan, heat up, slap on patties when the oil is hot enough. Brown on both sides.
Serve warm with generous dollop of yogurt sauce. So Nice!

Stewed Curried Split Peas and Diced Tomatoes:

3 cans Chicken stock
1 cup split peas, soaked the night before
2 tsp curry powder
Salt and Pepper
1 can diced tomatoes, juice and all

Put all ingredients into sauce pan, bring to boil, then simmer until peas are mushy--1 hour. I did not soak mine and they were mushy, but slightly chewy.

So, try it out or don't, but at least don't judge my photography. Perhaps just do a bit of research on a heart/hair healthy diet and try out your own concoction!

Abrams is a Robot...

2012-02-01T19:45:00.000-08:00

This morning, Abrams ran around for about an hour pretending he was a robot that ate people. Nice. Love that kid. It reminded me that I would probably be forgetting this in the next hour as I moved on with life. I don't want to do that. Sometimes I look at my little buddies and I feel like I want to 'eat' them too.

Okay, that sounds pretty much like I just escaped from the loony bin, but hear me out. Sometimes it just isn't enough to kiss those cheeks or to squeeze that body. I wish there was a way I could smoosh my babies into me. And, I bet, if I found out how to do that, I might want it reversed after an hour or two. It is nice to have personal space. I love my kiddos, they are hilarious, especially when I remember to stop being a drill sergeant and just be a mom. And then, I don't really care so much that someone just put their pizza hands on my white bed spread right after I washed it from the last chocolate chin attack...sigh...

ALMA-GUY:

Son, you are 5.5! Finally.You have been asking me when you will be five and a half since the day you turned 5.
You are in kindergarten. After much argument, Mommy won and we put you in before you turned 6. You are doing awesome.
You played football this fall. Your team did not win ANY games, but you always improved. And you looked pretty hilarious running around with a monster helmet covering your tiny head.
You are in love with BeyBlades. They are the go-to toy at our house.
You do not love Superman anymore.
You have disaffected to Batman.
You are learning to read and to write
You are a whiz at math.
You are a pro at remembering your scripture stories.
You love to learn about Jesus.
You weigh a ton, but I do not know how because there is not a spec of fat on you anywhere.
You love to eat.
You sit on the toilet for hours. Not really, but for a very long time.
You help Mommy so much around the house. I am really lucky to have you for an oldest boy!
You have a 'best' friend that lives next door. You and Cole play all the time. It's so great to see you roaring around with another boy, Abrams trailing along behind!

ABRAMS:

You are trying hard NOT to be potty-trained, but I have not changed a poopy diaper in months. You sit on the pot at least 3 times a day!
You are becoming a jabber-box. You say all kinds of things, and most of the time I can understand what you are trying to say. Today you said: "Alma punched me in the stomach."
We are starting to learn our colors, numbers, and letters. It's taken us some time, but Mommy has been trying to sleep every free second...sorry kid.
You LOVE LOVE LOVE Dinosaur Train. It's a cartoon, but you love books, songs, toys, all about dino's.
You love to repeat everything Alma says, even if you have no idea what he is saying. It has been pretty funny to hear you tell us about what you did in kindergarten that day!
You love to roll and do sommersaults. You also will jump off of anything, leaving me wondering why we have not visited the hospital very often. Knocking on wood!
You have become my little sous-chef. Every time you see me cooking, you pull up a chair and say: "Want a taste! Want a taste!"
You are just so stinkin' cute, I want to squeeze your warm little body all the time!
Your tantrums don't cause me stress. I just think you look so cute screaming and crying with your mouth full of teeth open so wide. I just laugh at you and think how lucky I am to have you.
You are pretty tall for your age and you are already wearing 3T clothes and some 4T clothes. You are only 2.5 years old. You weigh around 27 lbs, perhaps a bit more.
Every time bonk a part of your body, you want me to kiss it better.
You are a good boy and you try very hard to be obedient. I love you!

ELDEN:

Baby boy, you weigh 16 lbs 11 oz. You are 27 inches tall. You wear 6-9 month clothes and are 4 months old.
You do not sleep through the night, but you have started to at least sleep at night.
You have begun to roll over from your tummy to your back in the last week.
You have become interested in toys in the last two weeks
You have had your first taste of people food. You like it a lot.
You have acid reflux like your brothers, but you seem to be moderating it a bit right now. Thank you.
For a few months, you were making Mommy miserable by not sleeping at night and being quite fussy.
You love to smile and laugh. I just think you are so cute.
Your cheeks are so round and juicy, I love to squish them with my fingers.
You love your bath time. I love to see you stretch out and relax on your yellow bath sponge.
So far, you love to wear your pjs all the time. Your brother Alma is super jealous.
You like to babble and coo. It is fun to talk back to you.
You are also a frustrating nurser. Oh well, this too shall pass, right?!
I love you.

I'll Tile You No Secrets

2012-01-23T06:50:00.000-08:00

Okay, I have had these nagging thoughts in my head, and they keep coming back more and more these days. Perhaps it's because I now spend so much time hanging out in the bathroom (potty-training, bathing and showering children, the fleeting five minutes I can steal for myself...), but I can't help but feel like these rooms are absolutely bizarre.

Stop for a minute and consider. You live in a house constructed of wood. You apply drywall and paint, or wallpaper, and furnish rooms with other objects that would pretty much be destroyed if you showered them with water. But, slap some tile up on a wall, and its usually only in one corner of one of these wooden rooms, and suddenly, go bonkers, let the water fly. Bizarre. I mean, all that standing in between all that water and wood is a thin layer of ceramic tile and grout and a plastic curtain.

When I am standing in the shower now, I no longer worry about the masked murderer hiding behind the curtain to ree-ree-ree kill me, I am now worrying more about how silly the bathroom really is. I really need to get a life.

I think my attention really coalesced on this subject when, a few years back, Alma and I stayed in a hotel that was all Euro-style, which is code for: TINY. The bathroom was awesome, one square completely encapsulated in tile and no actual space for shower. When you wanted to shower, you pulled the shower head down from the ceiling and dragged a cloth--not even plastic--curtain between you and the toilet, wrestled with the water controls, and BAZOW! water sprayed all over you, the walls and the entire floor. Heck, they even had towels stored in that room. I thought it was bizarre, but Alma assured me that's how they did things in Ecuador. Who knew?!

And that's all it takes--tile and fabric--to instantly shatter any taboos our culture has regarding taking a fire hose, essentially, turning it on full blast and showering your living room with a tsunami of water. Because, after all, if we are really honest with ourselves, we spend the most time in the bathroom. I would hate to see what those waves brought up from the deep....

Welcome, Elden Reddick Clark!

2012-01-21T20:34:00.000-08:00

Alright, here is the biggest news the Clark family has to share! On September 25th, 2012 at around about noon, Elden Reddick Clark came screaming into our family. He has been screaming ever since. I think. But I can't remember much. I haven't slept much since that day, as evidenced by my facebook posts.

Elden weighed 8 lbs 6 oz. and measured 21 inches long. Today, he weighs a whopping 16 lbs. Go little man! He is long enough to sport 9 month clothes, and today, I caught him sneaking into the Oreo's. Just kidding, I caught him doing his first ever roll-over! One week shy of four months old, and the little dude is working on his rolling. Pretty good for a little guy that has been fighting an ear infection for over a week.

It wouldn't be too presumptuous of me to write a little bit about his birth, since this is my blog after all.

On Saturday, September 24th, Grandma Sheila flew into Chicago. It was c-o-l-d. I had been antsy all month that Elden would arrive early because Daddy was travelling and I was all alone with two wild and cr-a-zy kids. I had been feeling random contractions all week long, but that night, I had an inkling that these contractions were different. They started in the back and radiated around to the front, always a good sign. I decided that if I had paid too much attention to these, I would jinx any further progression so I went to bed and got the last good night's sleep I have had to date.

The next morning, with my entourage fully assembled, I awoke to get ready for Church. Around 8 in the morning, I began to notice that the contractions were coming more and more frequently, but the pain was not quite intense. So, I decided to hop into the shower and do my hair. Whelp, all of a sudden, in that shower, I realized that the pain had just ratcheted up a few hundred notches. Alma Daddy suggested that I go to Church and stand in the back of the chapel, but by that time, the way I was feeling, I knew it was highly likely that Elden would be born at the Church if we did not head to the Hospital right about...NOW!

After making arrangements for Alma and Abrams to be with Uncle Craig and Amber at Church, and switching cars with them in a random parking lot while laboring at 5 cm dilation, we made it to the hospital in the nick of time. Church started at 11:00 am, and by the time Relief Society was about to start, Elden had entered the world. And his father was documenting it all with well-executed facebook updates.

We love Elden, he is such a wonderful smiley boy. He has acid reflux issues like his brothers did, but he smiles through it all. This past week we noticed that had changed, and wouldn't you know it, he has an ear infection. Well, after walking around with him all night long for about 6 nights, I was ecstatic to find out there was a reason for the madness.

Hurray!

2012-01-21T18:46:00.000-08:00

I got a new camera for Christmas and it came with a, you guessed it, cord that connects it to the computer! I mean, who knew how important that could be?! So, guess what, I guess I might have to make a jump back into the blogging world because, well the last time I wrote to you, we only had two kids. Now we have 3. So much updating to do!

Beach Bums

2011-06-08T17:16:00.000-07:00

We have been swimming every day since summer decided to waltz past spring, right on the cool heels of winter. And, it has been awesome. The boys already look like little indians, running around with their lithe tanned bodies, hiding a pale-as-snow bum inside their shorts. It is quite funny to give them a bath.

You can check out the pool here, since I am having a hard time downloading pictures:

http://www.google.com/search?um=1&hl=en&biw=1366&bih=624&tbm=isch&sa=1&q=centennial+beach+naperville&oq=centennial+beach+naperville&aq=f&aqi=g2&aql=&gs_sm=e&gs_upl=5973l7687l0l11l11l0l10l10l0l144l144l0.1

Anyone who wants to come swim, join us!

I'm Not Making This Up

2011-06-08T17:04:00.001-07:00

I could not begin to even dream up something this funny!

This morning, as every morning, little Alma was assigned the chore of putting away the utensils. He is so good at it. He will do it without complaining, and it might take him ten minutes or more sometimes because of day-dreaming about the forks and spoons and who know's what, but he does it, and he does it the way that I taught him to! Hurray, patience and perseverance have paid off!

Anyway, back to this morning:

Little Alma was holding a toy water-gun sword in one hand and dropping utensils on the floor with his other. I looked at Alma and said: "Drop your sword and put away the utensils." He dropped his shorts (and his underpants!) and proceeded to carefully put away the utensils!

I laughed and laughed and laughed. I have, in fact, been laughing all day. He did it so matter-of-factly, so trustworthy-like, that I can't help but love that crazy little guy to death! Of course, I told him to pull of his pants and put his toy sword down, after I caught my breath. And, yes, he finished his job, pants on this time, beautifully!

Abrams has been acting a little silly about bugs since Sunday. I guess he got spooked by a bee while outside with his Daddy and the missionaries on Sunday night (and I mean spooked like--screaming bloody-death-murder-I-think-my-baby-got-hit-by-a-car), and ever since then, he has been convinced that every speck of anything is a bug. He will point and scream (and his scream is quite shrill) until we poke the dust, string, dirt, crumb, bug, enough to satisfy his little imagination.

Today I had him trapped in the bathroom for a good ten minutes because he thought a piece of string was a bug. He even shivered his little body and swatted and wrung his hands together in terror! It was awesome. Okay, I will admit, I did tease him a bit. But, I couldn't stop laughing because for him, it was so real, and I kept telling him--"Abrams, it's just string, sweet boy, just string." Terrified of string, but not terrified enough to throw himself into the water in the deeper end of the pool. Nice.

He even refused to stay in his bath tonight, and he never gets out before ten or fifteen minutes has elapsed. Poor kid, I hope he gets over this soon.

2 New Recipes~

2011-05-25T15:58:00.000-07:00

Okay ladies and gents, you know me, I can't pass up a crazy lookin' meal. I will search to the far ends of the internet just to find the perfect recipe that my poor stomach/baby has a yen for. And this time, I think I found two that will do the trick. I might even throw in a third one just for kicks and giggles.

Also, I don't have any of my own pictures because a) I hate my camera, and b) I hate my camera. So, without further ado:

De-constructed Egg and Cheese Sandwich:

(http://www.thecurvycarrot.com/2011/03/24/deconstructed-egg-and-cheese-sandwiches/ )

Check out this girl's blog for an awesome meal! It is meatless, and despite that fact, it is totally yummy. I served it to a bunch of missionaries, and if you know 19-20 year old boys, anything without meat, and eggs and spinach, you, like my husband, are probably wondering about my sanity. Don't worry, it is too awesome for even a bunch of 20 year old boys to pass up.

Change ups that I made:

Instead of making mine in rammekins like she did, I made mine in a casserole dish, and added an extra layer of cheese. I cooked mine for about as long as she did, and it all turned out good.
I also used normal milk instead of cream, as she did. I could not tell the difference, because, well, I have never tried it with the cream.
And, because she only calls for one egg per rammekin, I used six poached eggs. I also liberally shook salt and pepper over the egg layer and the final cheese layer. Sooo darn good.

SALMON POTATO CAKES:

( http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/potato-salmon-patties/Detail.aspx)

These are awesome. My mom would make these when I was a young wart hog and I have always thought they were fantastic-o. So, I am passing them on to my kids, and I don't really care what they think.

CHANGE-UPS:

I used mashed potatoes for my recipe because this is what my mom did.
I have fried them before, and liked that way, but I am baking them this time, spraying them with cooking spray, and they are doing nice things in the oven--turning nice and brown and crispy.

ENJOI~

Pizza! Pizza!

2011-05-10T13:10:00.000-07:00

Tonight for dinner we are having a pizza feast. Okay, two pizzas, so not much of a feast, but two very non-traditional pizzas.

(added after posting: use this dough recipe, so awesome. I added a bit more olive oil than called for. I may have added a bit too much flour. PIZZA DOUGH!)

1st:

Pesto Chicken Pizza: pesto sauce slathered over dough in place of tomato sauce, then covered with chicken, and finally topped with mozzarella and parmesean cheese. So yummy.

And so healthy if you use my little pesto secret. Okay, it's not mine, because I am sure there are millions out there who do it too, but:

about a bag of spinach (this is the healthy part)
a few cloves of garlic (however many to your taste)
a handful and a half of walnuts (healthy too)
2 tbsps of flax seed, already milled (healthy! healthy!)
parmesan cheese, as much as you like
olive oil, as much as it needs--you don't want the sauce to be liquidy, but you do want it to be paste-like
salt and pepper (I like a lot)
and I add water after I feel like I have done enough damage to my Olive Oil bottle. Again, just enough to make pasty.

There you go, pesto sauce. I had some for lunch mixed with some spaghetti and boy was it good!

#2 Pizza: California Pizza Kitchen's BLT pizza (?) I haven't eaten there in so long, I don't know the name, but I do remember what they put on it:

pizza dough, slathered in mozzarella cheese and baked in the oven until done.
After crust is done and cooled a bit, I add chopped spinach that has been tossed in mayonnaise
tomatoes, diced
avocados, diced
and bacon, hot and crumbled.

And can I just say holy smokers, this is a good pizza?!!!

I will post some pictures of it tonight, as an edited version of this post.

BLUE!

2011-05-09T19:00:00.000-07:00

BLUE

AND

BLUE!

BLUE IS POPPING UP ALL OVER HERE!

FHE

2011-05-09T15:26:00.000-07:00

Lesson's we have used, just so I can have a record. And maybe make a habit of doing FHE every Monday...cause we only do it ALMOST every Monday.

Obedience: http://nataliesfhespot.blogspot.com/search/label/Obedience

Consequences: http://www.ldssplash.com/fhe/fhe_lessons/consequences.htm

I think I am, I think I am

2011-05-07T06:50:00.000-07:00

I think I am getting a little better at this parenting thing. If, by getting better, you will accept learning to ignore almost every annoying thing... Then yes, by gollyjess~, I think I've got it! Eureka!

You see, yesterday, Daddy Alma was helping by getting Abrams ready for his bath. It didn't matter that he took his diaper off in the kitchen and left him standing on the counter, freaking out and clutching onto the cupboard door for his life, or that he crossed the room and went into the basement for a few seconds to chuck away a diaper, ie: check his ebay profile (okay, maybe not that long, but it heightens the suspense of this narrative, doesn't it?!). Of course, I did just sit there and look at the computer while Abrams shrieked in naked furry behind me, but HELLO! after a month of being a card-carrying member of the lonely hearts club, I thought it would be fine if I left my child in the care of his father.

So yeah, I just ignored it. (Even though I know that the odds of leaving an un-pottytrained child standing on a countertop without his diaper on increases the chances of that child peeing a fortune onto the floor will go up.)

I even ignored everything when my husband took Abrams into the bathroom and, neglecting to put him into the bathtub, placed him on top of the toilet while Daddy preened in the mirror, upping the ante, shall we say?!

I even ignored everything when the final bet had been placed and Abrams peed solid gold onto the floor, the stool, and possibly the bath-mat, and Daddy screamed in horror. I just walked out of the room, and didn't even bat an eyelash when he pulled out the face cloths to wipe up the mess.

See, I am getting really good at ignoring things. I have probably been stepping on pee in that bathroom ever since last night, but perhaps that is all just part of becoming a better parent. Not sweating the 'fall' stuff, right?!

So Many Crazies

2011-05-07T06:18:00.001-07:00

So many crazy things have been going on here over the last month.

Daddy has been travelling for about a month--away for the week, home during the weekend, and off again on Monday, sometimes evening hightailing it on Sunday just for kicks. I suppose he has to come home for basketball on Saturday mornings--7 a.m. sharp!

AlmaCoop has been "toying" with tantrums and playing hide and seek with the "I Want Monster". I wish that great green thing perched on his shoulder would just go and hide and never come back!

Abrams has been attempting tantrums too, but his end in a much more humorous manner than the screaming of his older brother. If I stare at Abrams with my mouth open and my eyes wide, he stops his screaming and tries to hide, peeks at me again, and then decides it is time for a hug and a change of behavior. I wish it were always this easy...

I have been experiencing major fatigue. I am reminded of the french word fatiguee. I always thought it sounded funny in high school, but now I think it perfectly describes how I feel--weary. And it just sounds so perfect when you say it in a weary french voice, "ah, fatiguee, fatiguee...". In fact, I have been so weary that I went head first into the laundry basket on Wednesday morning. I have never been so grateful for dirty laundry!

A friend of mine is hosting a bake sale this weekend. I offered to make some treats for her to-do and made mini pies, or tarts. I would estimate there were over 50 of them. Thank goodness I only ate 3 of them--just to find out if they turned out all right, you see. One day my neighbour Alice came over to be entertained and I nearly destroyed those little pielettes in the baking of them, while trying to make sure she didn't break while she was here. But that, dear reader, is another blog post in itself.

Yard work is in full swing, and the flowers are blooming. Or were blooming, until Abrams got a hold of the tulips. Goodbye pretty flowers, I hope you liked being stomped into the ground.

The weather has been so finicky, we have been outside maybe a handful of times since spring finally hit in March. Thank goodness we found a free indoor play center at a strip-mall church not far away. Little Alma is very insistent that it is not really a church, but I guess he does not realize that times, they are a-changing. And since Abrams screams every time we pull into our driveway, it is about time we found a place that doesn't charge a third-born child in admission to entertain your kids when May feels like winter.

Right now I can't think of anything more to post on, except to say that I have not been blessed with an abundance of patience. I feel so sorry for my children, but I am trying hard--oh so hard--to keep it together while their Daddy wings around the country, lounging about in 4-star hotels and doing whatever an adult pleases. I think that the perfect Mother's day gift would be a weekend away for just me right about now. Sounds totally un-loving and motherly doesn't it? But I am so tired of giving giving giving right now because I hardly even have time to eat. Perhaps that is why I ended up in the laundry basket the other day.

But, really, it isn't essential that pregnant women eat, right?! That's just a myth Doctors have cooked up to get kick backs from grocery stores, right?!

Perhaps that is why I ended up in the laundry basket the other day.

And speaking of laundry, got to run, a Mother's work is never done...

A Fishy Twist~

2011-05-03T15:02:00.000-07:00

Here is a recipe twist on an old faithful...

Who doesn't like meatballs? Hardly anyone, right?! Well, what about, say...tuna meatballs?

(Sorry no pictures, they got gobbled fast. Will make again and post a picture. Just think a light meatball!)

Okay, work with me here. Kind of like a crab cake, but with Tuna, and oatmeal, and spinach....Alright, I am getting ahead of myself. Just check out the recipe below.

Tuna Meat Balls:

1 can tuna--we used one small can
oatmeal (any kind)/ or bread crumbs--enough to cover the flaked tuna in a thin layer
Dollop o' mustard--we used Dijon
Quarter of an Onion-minced
Smallish handful of Spinach-minced
Quarter of a Red-pepper-minced
Handful of Cheese, shredded--we used Colby Jack
Worchestershire sauce--I twirled the bottle around a few times
Olive Oil--a twirl or two
Milk--not too much, just enough to get the mixture wet and sticky
Salt and Pepper

(I did not give you exact measurements because I think that cooking should be about taste and texture, not pre-determined definites. This particular mixture made enough to feed 1 adult and 2 kids. But if you have a larger family, make enough for how many you are feeding).

Mix everything together, leaving the Olive Oil and Milk for last. After adding each element, give the mixture a stir to make sure all is incorporated and to judge how much liquid you will need at the end.
Add the Olive Oil, stir around, and judge consistency. It will be a little bit runny, but don't be dissuaded.
Add a dash or two of milk, and let mixture sit for a few minutes--5 minutes? whatever you want, prepare something else--to let the oatmeal plump up and mixture to thicken.
Prepare a muffin tin by spraying it with cooking spray. We used a miniature muffin tin, and it made 11 mini balls plus one large ball. Just enough for us.
Bake in oven at 400* fror 15-20 minutes. I checked at fifteen, they looked "just" done, so I let them brown for five more minutes. Came out all-over crispy, but moist on the inside. Perfect.

We ate them with roasted sweet potatoes and peas, but you could also enjoy them with mashed potatoes and a green vegetable of your choice. Also, try sprinkling a little bit of lemon juice on them. Tastes great.

Enjoy~

Happy Easter!

2011-04-25T20:23:00.000-07:00

This year for Easter, my buddy Alma expressed his desire for a Easter Wonderland to descend upon our house. Awesome! Thanks for the advanced warning, since this declaration was made on Tuesday of last week, (Easter being last Sunday). I guess that pack of dozen eggs in the fridge was just kickin' around anyway...

So, I did what all loving mothers would do, I made good on his offer. I boiled that dozen eggs, and boy did we dye them. 1 blissed out pre-schooler + 1 curious and hard-of-hearing toddler (what toddler does listen + one stressed out and perfectionist/artsy (but not fartsy) father = totally relaxing family event. At least no dye was spilled in the carrying out of this process. Most of the eggs turned out a slightly paler shade of grey, and almost everyone came away happy in the process. Though Abrams' hands were blue-green for a few days afterwards.

To add to the Eater wonderland vibe, I whipped up a batch of sugar cookie dough with my avid helpers. Those little buddies helped with the making and tasting of the dough, each probably sampling about two cookies worth of dough each. Next, they helped roll out and cut the "springy" spring shapes--lambs, eggs, duckies, and bunny rabbits. Again, probably consuming--each--about a cookie's worth of dough. And finally, just in time for dinner, we decorated the cookies with tubs of store-bought, lard-filled icing. I know what you are thinking, totally healthy, well-balanced meal! Abrams did nothing but eat the icing, and Alma-guy did nothing but glop his icing on four different cookies.

"Mom, why don't your cookies look like mine?"

Because my dear sweet, just the thought of that much icing in one place to be consumed makes your mother's pregnant tummy cringe in anticipated horror. In other words, his cookies were adorable, and definitely going to be divided out to the neighbors.

In case you think our Easter Wonderland was just for fun and mere pagan worship, we also spent each morning reading from the scriptures about the last week of our Savior's life. It is amazing to me just how tuned in a little boy can be. Every day our Alma-guy walked with his Savior and tried to feel and experience just what Jesus did. I was impressed, and a little humbled, by his cries of: "Read more scriptures Mom. I want to know more about Jesus." It was a real treasure to read the final scripture on Sunday about our Lord's resurrection. Our boy knows that Christ lives, and we, his parents, do too.

Man of Steel

2011-04-25T20:11:00.000-07:00

The other day, my little man told me that he did not like Superman anymore. I think my heart broke a little. Alma-guy has had an intense burning love for Superman for about two years. And not just intense, but out-of-this-world. I mean, he would sleep with ten pairs of Superman underwear a night, every night, for months. And, wake up in the morning to count them just to make sure they were all there. He even has a Superman backpack complete with a six-pack of abs on the front. How could he not like Superman anymore?! (What are we gonna do with that backpack if he's for real?!)

I guess I can understand a little. There just isn't as much Superman stuff out there, as there is of Batman or Spiderman. I never thought I would be a connoisseur of superheros, but with two boys, I guess it was inevitable. Superman is somewhat of an enigma on the toy-shelves, generally relegated to Batman's sidekick.

And I am not so sure I understand that at all. Isn't Superman supposed to be the most perfect being, EVER?! Just sayin'.

Okay, so maybe I am being defensive. I mean, my paradigm did just shift a little bit recently. Here I thought my little dude would be married and still sleeping with is Superman underwear, and suddenly he goes and dashes all of my little dreams. I guess I just haven't been sleeping right since. And can you blame me for trying to sneakily suggest he wear his tattered Superman shirts and socks everyday, instead of that brand new striped shirt that fits a little bit better because it is longer? I certainly don't blame myself.

But the good news is, t-woddlers (somewhere between a toddler and a teen) are easily diverted. We have stayed the course, and are back to worshipping Superman. And I can thank my lucky kryptonian stars for that.

If You Groom Him...

2011-04-25T20:08:00.000-07:00

He will calm...

Seriously, there is nothing Abrams likes more than to be groomed. The kid will be freaking out hysterical and I just have to pull out a few q-tips and his little boy lips stop their quivering. It really is quite adorable--soothing a toddler through freeing his ears from wax...sigh!

This Old Sweater...

2011-04-25T18:50:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I went on a shopping spree. It was awesome. I got everything I wanted, and most of the stuff I didn't even know I needed. The only problem was, I had to fight my way to get to everything I wanted. And I had to travel a long distance to get there.

Okay, so I traveled to my basement, I shopped inside of a garbage bag, and I spent all that money years ago. The blessings of having two boys born 2 years and 51 weeks apart. Clothes match up to seasons and mostly to age. Abrams', I am finding, is slightly taller than his elder brother was at this age, though. Ah well, we'll keep him.

I lugged that garbage bag up the stairs, (yep, totally crazy shopping trip), and began raiding it like a child on Christmas morning. And indeed, there was much excitement to be had! Every shirt, every sweater, every mismatched pajama top and bottom brought with it a trove of memories. Mostly I smiled and laughed with each one that came to mind, but a few little shirts here and there brought home the hard fact that my first baby was growing up and not down. I guess it is a good thing I've got a second baby in the wings.

So, now I take a lot more care to dress each boy in the morning. My hands linger a bit longer on a shirt, or a pair of pants. I smooth back haystack hair again and again, and I certainly don't skimp on kissing cheeks still rosy from the last one.

Sometimes it's hard to be a mom, because you realize, one day, you have to let go. At least, I will still have a few pairs of mismatched clothes to hold on to...

Abrams trying to smile:)

This little rainbow sweater reminds me of this...

http://gollyjess.blogspot.com/2008/05/illinoiswho-knew.html

Raindrops on Roses....

2011-04-25T15:13:00.000-07:00

A few of Abrams' favorite things...

Red hat

Window Seat

Large and In Charge

2011-04-25T15:07:00.001-07:00

We have had this...

Longer than this...

Life in Miniature

2011-04-17T18:04:00.000-07:00

If you are not into wordy-wordy, scroll down until you see numbers!

Nowadays, I eat everything in small doses. Okay, scratch that, ice cream can never be eaten in small doses--I just don't keep it in the house that often! With a second person inhabiting my abdominal cavity, my stomach just doesn't have that much room to expand, so eating food is hard and bothersome at best. Half the time I can't even decide what I want, (and when I do, it's too late, I am already grumpy and feeling like not eating at all) and the other half the time, all I want to eat is thousands of miles away in Canada. I guess the up side is, I'm not giving into to the Chinese food or Mint Smarties Blizzard cravings all the time!

But, there is one thing that I have to admit, never sounds disgusting, boring, or old hat--lemon meringue pie. OH SO GOOD! However, making a huge stinking pie is not something I want to be doing right about now because, like it or not, with a husband who travels constantly, and two little men that aren't allowed to eat a ton of treats, that pie would sit on my counter and stare at me. Probably more like whisper sweet lemony nothings in my ear. And really, who needs that?! I've got my hands full with one hot husband already...whoo whoo!

So I got it into my mind to create a miniature version of lemon meringue pie that could be eaten in one bite, therefore submitting to temptation, but thereby removing the need to stare at a large and luscious pie keening to me all week long. Miniature pies are really easy to share also! And here is the recipe. Miniature recipes, okay--recipes period-- are really easy to share.

Miniature Lemon Meringue Pies:

(Disclaimer: I originally tried this idea out with pumpkin pie filling back in October. That worked out just as awesome as this version did. I had the idea, googled to see if anyone else had attempted and found someone who had here: http://www.bakerella.com/pumpkin-pie-bites/ . I should have known! Beaten to the punch!)

For the lemon pie filling and meringue mixture, I used this recipe here:

http://www.bettycrocker.com/recipes/luscious-lemon-meringue-pie/8f991b88-55b0-4740-b12c-251958d663a6.

I chose this one because it calls for cream of tartar in the meringue, and that helps to stiffen it up and make it more substantial. I also chose this one because a few other recipes I looked at for the filling were the exact same, give or take a smidgen of this here or there, but it also gave exact measurements on the amount of lemon juice to use--1/2 cup. Others just called for the juice of 2 or 3 lemons, which can vary depending on the lemon.

As for the dough, I cheated a little and bought some pre-made, pre-rolled dough. I was worried about time, and this shortened the process immensely. I do have a great pie dough recipe that I have used for this type of project, and it worked out perfectly, I just don't know if I am allowed to share it. I might lose a first born child and I have worked dreadfully hard on him.

Assembly instructions:

I worked with the pie dough first, so that by the time the filling and the meringue were ready, I just had to assemble.

Unroll pie dough on counter. Continue to roll out with rolling pin until quite thing, but not so flimsy that dough is starting to peal away with rolling pin.
Choose a round cutter that is about apple sized across. I used a pumpkin shaped cutter I bought at target, it is not small, but I have used a christmas tree shaped cutter, and that worked well too.
After you have cut dough into circles, pick up in two hands, hands on opposite sides of circle, and pinch in the sides on the top of the circle, then do the same with the bottom of the circle--assuming you are holding the circle parallel to the counter top. After a few tries it becomes too easy, you will get the hang of it. It should then look like a bowl.
Place bowl shapes into muffin tins, and fill with beans, or pie weights. The thinner the dough is essential here because it will puff up during cooking. The weights/beans will hold the shape of the bowl.
Place in oven that has been pre-heated at the temperature required by the dough recipe, or box. I used 400*, which I have found to be quite normal with most pie crusts. Bake for 5-10 minutes, depending on how brown you want the crust to be. I found that the browner, or more golden, the better tasting.
Pull crusts out when done, cool slightly, and using a knife, I used plastic knife--tad more gentle-pry out the beans. I say this because tapping the beans out did not work so well for me. Gently prying will get the job done and save the crusts. Let them cool on a rack while you mix up the filling and the meringue.

ASSEMBLING THE FILLING AND THE MERINGUE INTO THE CRUSTS:

The instructions I looked at for filling the pie suggested to do so while the filling was still hot, but I found that it still worked well half an hour late when the filling had cooled substantially. I would not advise busting a gut getting crusts filled in a hurry, take your time and be careful.
Before filling, I transferred the crusts to a foil lined baking sheet for ease of removal after pies were cooked. I recommend this.
After filling the filling (?) I used a normal sized metal spoon to dollop the meringue on top. I have read that sealing the meringue to the crust, meaning the filling is not visible any longer will keep the meringue from shrinking. In most cases, I succeeded in doing this, but in the few that did not cover the entire pie, I did not see a problem with the meringue shrinking. Perhaps because of the addition of cream of tartar? I dolloped the meringue high, the higher the better.
Bake in oven at temperature required by the pie recipe, which in my case, was the same as the dough instructions--400*. Bake until the meringue tops are browned to your liking. Again, the browner the better seemed to work best.
Cool on rack and then transfer to fridge for another hour or so of cooling before eating. (I didn't do this for an hour or two--put into fridge--and I found no problems with the pies weeping--which some recipes suggest might happen.
ENJOY!

This is quite a wordy post for something so mind-numbingly simple. I thought that I would share with you what I found that worked best, because after all of the cooking and baking I have done, I have discovered that there are very few unique recipes, and people are mainly improving on little tweaks here and there. So, go out there, make this your own--fill it with strawberry, blueberry, peach, apple, pumpkin, butter tart, pecan, whatever filling you can think of, and worry not about the temptation an entire pie might hazard, because in this, my friend, all you need is one bite!

Brain Dead

2011-04-06T06:56:00.000-07:00

Someone please tell me that their head is in a constant fog too? I swear, since becoming pregnant--day 1 of 1st pregnancy--I have been living in a half doze. I constantly forget things, cannot seem to keep goals, and find that the only thing I can accomplish are chores, and sometimes, I don't even stick to the routine I have set. Doing my hair and dressing smart has become a thing of the past. Showering is even a luxury. But the crazy thing is, I know plenty of other mom's out there that seem to have it all together--with 5 kids, on-the-side jobs, cute hair, dressed smart, and totally active in every little thing that comes their way.

So the big question is, what is wrong with me? Do I have adult ADD? Do I spend too much time entertaining my children? At the gym? Am I not organized enough to use my time efficiently? Lots of other moms talk about how busy they are, but I don't feel busy at all, but always harried for time. I only have two kids, and they are both under five.

If anyone has any suggestions for me, help a sister out. I need some ideas to jumps start this brain of mine, or at least someone to tell me this is normal--maybe.

Our Dear Friend

2011-03-29T18:00:00.001-07:00

Yesterday our neighbor and friend passed away. I believe he was 90, shy maybe by a few months, if that. He was a very sweet man, always ready to answer AlmaCoop's questions and very excited about the arrival of Abrams. Walter and AlmaDaddy would spend hours together talking about coins, baseball, or whatever random things men find interesting. And, he was always nice to our family.

When we moved to our current house, we discovered that there were not a lot of children in our immediate area. There were, and still are, quite a few elderly people. Almost immediately they welcomed us into their 'family' and we have been close ever since. It has provided our family with many opportunities to serve, as well as be served, by these wonderful people, who may not look as young as us, but nevertheless, feel as though they have never changed a bit.

In fact, service is one of the ways in which the Clark's got to know Walter the best. Since we have lived here, AlmaDaddy has spent many hours mowing Walter's lawn, trimming his bushes, dejunking his gutters, shoveling his walk, bringing him vegetables from our garden, edging his lawn, and so many other things I have come to forget. I admit, there have been times that I have been guilty of saying, "You did that for Walter, why can't you do it for us?!", but for the most part, I think that we all understood that what Alma was doing was really being Walter's friend.

In return, Walter would keep his eye out for all of the coolest things that our neighbors were throwing away that were still usable. We were given a big boy bike, a table and chairs (I got rid of the chairs), and a few odds and ends toys. Or, he would offer AlmaCoop some candy that had been sitting around since last Halloween or last Christmas. Little Alma didn't mind, after all, candy is candy.

I would always see Walter in the mornings when I took AlmaCoop for a walk, or just went walking by myself. He was always up puttering around his garage, or coming back from an errand at the crack of dawn. Instead of calling me by my name, he would call me "Justica", and I didn't have the heart to correct him. And if he saw me without my husband, he would talk with me, but always ask about "Elmo" and when he would be coming over to visit next.

About a month ago, Walter's son discovered an overwhelming amount of mold in Walter's home. It was time for Walter to move out. At first it was only supposed to be temporary, and I remember looking at his home every day, wondering when he would be back. I always looked forward to listening to Walter's radio when our windows were open, or how he would ask about how the boys had slept the night before. I guess I wasn't the only person driven awake by screaming babies! And this year, I was so looking forward to Walter's visits as we worked in our garden.

Last week, our friend Gert, another elderly lady who lives on our street, told us that Walter would not be returning to his home. It made me sad to hear this news, sad we would not see Walter again, and sad that he was being taken from the home that held so many memories of his wife and family, mold or no mold. We were told that the house was going to be torn down and sold to someone who would want to build a huge monster right next to ours. Slightly disgruntled, (I would rather have Walter than a massive pile of bricks on either side of us) I told my husband to go and visit Walter in the care home he was placed in. Of course, he said he would, but life goes on.

But on frigidly cold Saturday, Gert came again to our house and let us know that she had called the nursing home to ask if she could come visit him and was told in return that he had been taken to the hospital with pneumonia. I called Alma right then and told him that he had better get his butt to the hospital. But life goes on...

On Sunday, I had to stay home from Church with a sick baby, but I sent my husband off with our oldest son and told him again, "You had better go and visit Walter after Church." But life goes on.

Finally on Monday, I asked Alma whether or not he was going to visit Walter today. He said he would later...later...later. That was it, I told him we would all go as a family that night after work. We got to the hospital, found his room with the bed all made up, and when we asked about Walter, the nurse on duty went straight for the head nurse. Guess what, Life did not go on that day.

We had missed Walter by only hours. I didn't think that Walter was going to pass so soon. He always seemed so strong. I started crying when I heard the news. I had wanted him to know that we missed seeing him everyday. I wanted to tell him that come fall, there would be another baby to keep him up at night. Above all, I wanted him to know that we loved him. I know my husband felt the same way too. But, alas, life does not always go on. We missed him by hours, dang it!

We drove home that night, and inevitably, passed by Walter's house on the way home. There were no lights on in the window and the garage door was shut for good. I suddenly realized that it would never open again and we would never sit on those rusty chairs right out front and talk in the summer twilight as Alma mowed his lawn. And even now, as I type this, it is hard for me to even think about a week going by without me asking my husband, "Have you heard from Walter lately? Do you think he needs his lawn mowed? Maybe you should take little Alma over there to see how he is doing."

Walter, we miss you. Sorry we missed you. But I guess....this is goodbye.

Watch Out World, Here I Come~

2011-03-29T14:53:00.001-07:00

Today has not been my day, and judging by the clock, I still have 2 hours until the boys are placed in their beds and I shut the door-click-on them until tomorrow. Oh, it's not that I don't love those two rascals, it's just that I am afraid I might do harm to them, or worse, me.

It all began with an early morning wake up call at 3:38 a.m. That would be my dear husband. He has a nifty habit of packing and getting ready for a business trip 20 minutes before the taxi arrives. Yep, you are reading that right, the taxi came at 4 a.m. this morning. Of course, I heard the words any sleeping zombie dreads as he stuffed undies, shaving gear, and hopefully a few pants and shirts into a duffel bag, "cover your head, I'm going to turn on the light." Yep, I was awake for the better part of 2 hours after that.

And it gets better, 45 minutes after I had dozed off, the scuttling of tiny man feet is heard galloping across the creaky wood floor--"Mom," in an overly-enthusiastic whisper, "Can I watch a cartoon?!" Love the boys, but waking up at 6:11 every morning is not something to brag about. I thought I could convince him to snuggle with me until the baby awoke, but then I heard him bouncing--literally jumping for all he was worth--in his bed and screaming, "Batman! Batman!" at the top of his lungs. Wakey, wakey.

So, sleep equalling a big fat zilch, (understand, pregnancy means that a normal 8 hours of sleep really rounds out to about 4) I stumble to the family room, put on a cartoon, a good long one, and ply the kids with milk. Then I stumble right back to my bed and drift off into....the phone ringing. Well hello there husband, it looks like you have wi-fi on your airplane ride! I love you too! (And yes, I do).

The banana pancakes I made to try and trick the baby into eating fruit got spit out, the gym was a struggle today, and I have misplaced two library books.

Cleaned the pee-sprayed bathroom, sent a screaming baby off to bed, missed my own nap, and left to go grocery shopping far too late.

Arrived at the grocery store and realized that the overwhelming arrays of food were too much for my weak stomach and tossed the menu/grocery list. I just grabbed food willy-nilly. Sorry kids, no meat until Daddy gets home! Then got to the check out counter, unloaded, and lo and behold, realized wallet was at home sitting in the library bag! Ack! and Double Ack!

Raced out of grocery store with child in tow, only to get to the car to realized that baby was left back in grocery store, buckled safely in the drive-a-long car grocery cart. Driving home, I almost hit a decorative rock beautifying our front yard.

So, someone send me a straight jacket, I think I earned it today. Or else, just plain stay out of my way!

But p.s--> thank you to the wonderful friend who, without knowing any of that, brought me sticky rolls ten minutes after I got home from the grocery trip from h-e-double hockey sticks. Somebody up there loves me after all!

Butterhorns

2011-03-29T11:53:00.000-07:00

Here is a recipe, the closest one I can find, to these absolutely amazing rolls a family friend used to make when I was young--BUTTERHORNS! A fabulous alternative to cinnamon rolls. So good. Although, it has to be said, a cream cheese frosting is also awesome on these things too!

http://mennonitegirlscancook.blogspot.com/2008/11/butterhorns.html

Check 'em out!

My Buddies

2011-03-24T11:34:00.000-07:00

I dig my boys. I wanted to start my family off with two boys, and I did. Everyone needs an older brother, and an older brother needs a younger brother. Check! Those two little rug rats have finally turned into buddies, and Alma and Abrams are generally happy running around the house fighting pitched battles with baby-grade plastic spoons and forks.

At first I tried to put a stop to it because I have read so many articles and heard from dozens of friends that there should be, or was not, room for fighting in the/their house. But after dragging the oldest to his room fifteen times a day, and having the youngest pound on his door for the duration of time out, begging for the release of his tormentor, I suddenly realized that these two boys bond this way. Increasingly, I began to understand that the shrieks bellowing forth from Abrams' mouth weren't in terror, they were in cahoots. The kid was egging his brother on, and soon he was giving as good as he got.

Okay, so they are not having drag-down, knock-out fights through the halls of our house. It is more like wrestling and smothering with kisses and hugs, then chasing with spoons and forks, or superhero swirling around my legs while I desperately try to unload the dishwasher before some villain crashes into the open appliance. But sometimes, I really do have to squeeze my eyes shut tight and repeat to myself that it will all be okay about 40 times or more. You know how mothers are, if an accident is waiting to happen, or not happen, we will turn ourselves into knots over just the thought of tears. I am now really good at saying, "Rub some dirt on it!" and shoving one or the other back into the fray, (thank you, I will pat myself on the back!).

So, I guess it sounds like I am saying I am ready for a girl. Well, truth be known, it would be nice to have a flighty little princess around here to wrap the whirling tornado around her little finger, but I am comfortable with boys and the chaos and dirt they seem to kick up wherever they go. I wasn't at first, but like I said, every boy needs a brother, and I am so glad that my boys have each other. You can pick your friends, and you can pick your nose, but you can't pick your friend's nose. Also, you can always beat up on your brother...

Some...

2011-03-24T11:21:00.000-07:00

Here are some things that are swirling around in my head:

pregnancy messes with my 5 senses. I have hyper-active smelling, over-the-top taste buds, and touch-me-and-I-shoot sensory perception. I always have eyes in the back of my head, with or without a baby in my tummy, and what mother cannot hear a pin drop two rooms away anyways?!
Normally I love to cook--putting together an awesome menu for the week is one of my favorite things to do. Watching my children shovel the finished product into their mouths is also a reward. Not right now, however, I can hardly stand to look at, smell, or touch food, and cleaning up the kitchen afterwards is always going to wait until the morning. Oh, how pregnancy messes with me!
Going to the gym is my sanity saver. Realistically, looking in the mirror, I probably don't have to go every day, or even run more than 3 miles to maintain my health goals (blame it on my genes friends, my whole family is tall and slim), but holy smack, feeling like throwing up every day for 3 months is draining me of energy, the will to live, and any positive feelings that might be trying to shine through those dark, dreary clouds. I just want to move again and not think about my stomach!
I have some pretty awesome friends! Does anyone else feel like a slug when they are suffering through months 1-3 of being pregnant? I barely have patience for my own children, let alone my spouse, or myself for that matter (can I just finish the laundry already?!), and my wonderful friends have invited my oldest son over for play dates without even suggesting I return the favor. I am so grateful to wonderful women who share their time, energy, and patience with my own family.
I sure do love my children. When I look at their faces, hear their laughter, and watch them play together, it reminds me why I have embarked again on this nine month harrowing journey. The reward definitely comes after the trial of my faith.

Wedding

2011-03-16T12:39:00.000-07:00

This past weekend, our family was so lucky to attend the wedding of a dear, dear sister--Husband's oldest, Rebecca. Aunt Rebecca has had such a special place in the hearts of all of her nieces and nephews, brothers and sisters, and it was so fitting that we could all be there to witness this special occaission.

We chose to drive to Virginia, rather than fly, and so spent a good 20 hours in the car. Huge high-five to my back-seat boys! The only time Abrams cried was either to tell us he was hungry, thirsty, or tired. Alma-guy, that kid rocked it hard! He looked at three coloring books for the majority of the time, pretended his hands were dueling, or poured over two scripture books his Aunt Emily gave him, (Props to you Auntie Em, those were awesome Christmas gifts!) Abrams, not one to be outdone, read his fare share of books, drew almost non-stop on his magna doodle, and sang along lustily to Veggie tales. Not bad for two boys who are almost constantly moving.

One of the brightest spots, not to be outdone by Aunt Rebecca in her statuesque white dress, was spending quality time with cousins, siblings, grandparents, and aunts and uncles. We are so lucky to have such a wonderful family. Alma-guy as taken to calling them the "un-normal" cousins because I guess he realized he doesn't see them quite as much as the 30 or so cousins on Mommy's side of the family. But, despite not being "normal", those kids had so much fun running, running, running, and running. I guess that more than made up for 20 hours in the car.

It was hard to say goodbye, especially since meetings are few and far between. We are so grateful to have spent time with loved ones, and wonder when the next Clark wedding will be?! So, until next time, there will be a little empty spot in our hearts as we wait so be with you all again.

3's the Charm

2011-03-16T12:31:00.000-07:00

Right?! I mean, making the leap from two kids to three can't be all that bad, can it?!

As I watch my Alma-guy grow up more and more each day, I am so amazed at how far he has come. It wasn't even five years ago that he came screaming and kicking into our lives. And now he is sitting on my bed, having a very eventful "quiet time" as he pretends his two hands are mortal enemies locked in head-to-head combat. I fear for the loser.

And the there is Abrams. Oh golly goodness, that boy! It hasn't even crossed his mind that he is three years younger than the oldest boy, and he just follows along behind, throwing punches and leaping off couches as if there was nothing wrong with a face plant every now and again. If only we could get him to talk. Slowly, slowly--I am detecting words.

So, number three, whoever you are, I want you to know that you had better come with a third degree black belt in order to keep up and fend for yourself in this crazy home of ours. You might have a better chance of survival if you turn out to be a girl, since your brother Alma has been asking where in the heck you are for the last year or so. But, fear not, boy or girl, Mommy can still hold her own against the double A's, and that should give you a winning chance.

Very excited to meet you, and this new challenge,

Mommy~

Saturday Morning

2011-02-19T05:10:00.000-08:00

Here it is, finally Saturday morning--the weekend has begun and am I getting a head start on it while the kids watch cartoons (when did I have to stop watching cartoons?!)? No, I sit here on this blog. I have had so many thoughts swirling through my head this week, ranging from family history to Lady Gaga's condom outfit. Yeah, I know, totally normal everyday thoughts. I just had to sit down and blog.

Doing family history is an interesting thing. It's true what they say, the hearts of the children really do turn to their fathers. As I have embarked on this journey of finding out where I have come from, I find myself constantly returning to the histories of my ancestors daily--sometimes hourly. I now know that there is a long line of strong women on my mother's side. If they could weather the trials of their times, than certainly I can get through raising two rascally rascals in the middle of winter in Chicago, stuck in a house that seems to get smaller as the snow grows deeper and the temperature keeps dropping. (But soft, what light through yonder window breaks, it is the East, and YES! there IS the sun!).

My great-grandmother came from England, but not in the way you are thinking. She didn't come with her family on a boat, she was taken from her mother and sent across the ocean, crammed in a boat with hundreds of other children like her. They were, and are still referred to as, British Home Children. In the late 1800's, a Dr. Middlemore had the great idea that taking children from their homes and families and sending them to various countries across the world to work as indentured servants would be better for them in the long run. So, far the space of about 60 or more years, thousands of children were displaced from their homes and families and sent to Canada, Africa, Australia, and other countries in an effort to "provide" them with a better life. How thoughtful! I can only imagine how those children felt when they arrived in a new land, knowing that those they loved were a world away--literally.

Lilian May Rowberry was described in one of the work reports as 'very impertinent and saucy'. All I can say is--AWESOME! These families more often than not treated the Home Children as servants, not as members of the family. The children had no choice, they were taken by adults, from their homes, and sent to be dependents. They had nothing. But, they deserved everything. A saucy and impertinent attitude is all they had left.

Lilian, I would like to thank you for your strength and unwillingness to lose yourself in the face of those circumstances. And, my husband would like to thank you for passing along your saucy and impertinent attitude to me.

Other thoughts I want to discuss, but later, since Saturday is now starting without me. Basketball calls!

My feelings on teaching children about work and responsibility
Yes, I do want to talk about Lady Gaga, I just love her so much
A general journal update on the boys
And anything else that strikes me between now and later!

Cranberry Pork Roast--So Stinking Good

2011-02-11T13:07:00.000-08:00

Here is a pork roast recipe that can either be done in a crock-pot or in the oven.

CRANBERRY PORK ROAST

(if cooking in oven: 350* for 1 hour. Take out, cut into meat, if meat looks done, take it out, let it sit for 15-20 minutes before cutting into it. Note: If pork roast is over 2 lbs, you may have to cook it longer than an hour).

(If cooking in crockpot, cook on low for 6-8 hours)

2.5 to 3 lb boneless pork roast
16 oz. cranberry sauce
1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp dry mustard, though regular hot dog mustard will work fine
1/4 tsp ground cloves
2 tbsp corn starch
2 tbsp cold water
1 tsp salt

Put roast in slow cooker
Combine cranberry sauce, sugar, mustard, ground cloves. Pour over roast
Cook on low 6-8 hours, or until meat is tender
Remove roast, keep it covered
Pour juice into sauce pan, skimming off fat if desired, and thicken with mixture of the corn starch, water, and salt. Bring to a boil over medium heat. Let boil until thicken, stirring.
Serve gravy over sliced pork.

When we cooked this up, we did mashed potatoes and asparagus. It was all great together. Hope it works out for you.

(From the Fix-It and Forget-It Cookbook, 2000, pg. 134)

"The Bestest Meat Ever!"

2011-02-10T14:15:00.000-08:00

Little A screamed this over and over again last night at the dinner table. I am not sure if he meant to say 'meal' instead of 'meat', but I am not one to quibble over semantics. I'll take it. And you can make it!

So, Molly, you will remember this from our good old days at home, Mother's Chicken Cordon Bleu, (that I stole from her cook book years ago--good news, I think she has another one for you to steal too!).

Disclaimer, reading the instructions will probably take a lot longer than throwing this together. Don't be shy.

CHICKEN CORDON BLEU

4 boneless skinless chicken breasts---pounded flat (or short-cut method, sliced down the middle so you now have two halves instead of one huge whole)
Ham slices
Shredded swiss cheese, or mozzarella, whatever you prefer. I used parmesean cheese as well as the mozzarella.
sour cream (you can use as much as your heart desires) (Mix the cheese and sour cream together for ease of spreading)
1 egg white
As much bread crumbs as you like
glass baking dish, large enough to hold your chicken rolls
baking spray

OVEN: 350 *, but to be on the safe side, I always cook a casserole or chicken breast at 400*

lay out your flattened or sliced thin chicken breast. Follow with slice of ham, and as generous a dollop of cheese and sr. cream mixture as you like. Roll up, seal shut with toothpicks, and place aside in the baking dish. Repeat until chicken has been used up.
Swirl up egg-white in a shallow bowl, and fill another bowl with bread crumbs. Dip chicken rolls into egg white, then bread crumbs. Place back into baking dish.
Spray tops of chicken rolls with baking spray when all done, and slide on into the oven. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes. (This recipe says to bake at 350*, but I baked mine at 400* for about the same time. Do what feels best with your oven. Own that oven!)

Traditionally, this type of meal is served with rice. I also served it with steamed carrots. They were both a hit, and on the side I made a quick gravy. It follows:

Quick all-purpose Chicken gravy Recipe

1 can cream of chicken soup
about 3/4 can of milk (reuse the can)
I add Italian seasoning and salt and pepper to taste.
If you added too much milk, flour will thicken it up, but you should add the flour to a little bit of water and whisk it around before you slowly add it to the gravy to avoid lumps and bumps. Following the above directions, I did not have to add any flour.

Remember, a recipe should be considered as Bible only until you get the hang of how similar dishes have turned out. After that, they are simply a guideline that can be strayed from at will. This is my disclaimer, as I have read so many websites and looked at so many recipes. There really is no claim on a recipe anymore because they are all just a pick-and-chews of all the variations out there.

Blizzard-illa! Snowmaggedon!

2011-02-02T18:02:00.000-08:00

Whatever you called it, it lived up to the hype! On Feb 1st, 2011 a real live Southern Alberta blizzard blew into Chicago. It was AWESOME! The wind was howling, the snow was a driving wall of white, and the drifts were up to the windows! And guess what, Alma Daddy was outside during much of the worst for 3 hours shoveling the driveway! That guy, who is always a boiling furnace, said that he was warm! WARM! Out there in that freak of nature.

Well, here are a few pictures to attest to Snowmaggedon, and a few stories for our family to remember.

Alma has been building a snow ramp along the side of the driveway since the beginning of the snow season. Now the ramp is easily high enough to rival even the meanest bunny hill. It is great, the boys love it (even little AG), and I can see it right from the windows so if AC wants to go out there for a little bit by himself and slide, I can stay inside. Thank you Daddy!

Big A went outside this morning before 7 a.m. and began his shoveling stint again. I promised the buddies we would go out right after breakfast, and, of course, instead of cereal, the buddies screamed for scrambled eggs. How can you say "no" to their cuteness? So, scrambled eggs and jamba juice later, out we went, AG stubbornly refusing to wear mittens and a scarf--just you wait buddy!

We finally got outside and AG discovered why Mommy was so adamant about gloves and scarf; he face planted in a snow drift taller than himself and nearly as tall as his older brother.

The wind was still driving the snow into drifts all around, snow still falling horizontally to the ground, but this time, the humans were braving the elements. All around us we could hear snowblowers gunning to life, but we are to good (cheap) for that--shovels all the way. While the boys played in the snow and slid down their new sledding hill, Daddy and I hit that snow like it was going out of style. It didn't take us hours to finish off the driveway, but we kicked up a sweat and had a good time together creating a huge snow wall to hide us from our neighbours.

Another story. As I was going to put Abrams down for his nap, I walked into the bathroom to grab a washcloth and I noticed water on the floor (that looked like pee) in a spot that seemed rather odd. I wiped it up after grumbling about males and their lack of hygene, but when I turned to go I heard a drip and looked at the floor again--more water. Wha?!

Okay, a quick look up determined that there was a leak coming from the ceiling just next to the fan. Great, I instantly knew that not only had the wind driven the snow into drifts around our doors and windows, but it had blown the snow into all the vent systems on our roof. Boo! So, I yelled to Alma Daddy to grab a ladder and head on up to the attic. Sure 'nough, there was plenty of snow up there, fanned out just where the ventilation screens were. And, enough snow had been caught in the bathroom ceiling fan vent to create seepage through the ceiling. Gah! Alma had to unscrew the ceiling fan, then get back up into the attic when we didn't immediately find the snow in the bathroom part, and unhook the fan from it's venting. Sweet afternoon, huh. If you have an attic and dealt with the storm last night, you might want to get up there too.

And for a reward, we had roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, peas and corn, and collard greens for dinner. Followed by nanaimo bars. We deserved it, after all that hard work, watching the storm through the windows, shoveling, and snuggling inside a warm house. Interrupted of course, by the odd trip to the attic to shovel snow up there!

Two...No...Three Recipes to Dish About

2011-01-31T14:26:00.000-08:00

Tonight the first hint of a blizzard is supposed to sweep into town. So, because it is already blisteringly cold, we are having soup and scones for dinner.

Corn Chowder with a twist of whatever is in the Fridge:

1 can creamed corn

1 can whole kernel corn, plus juice

1 can cream of chicken soup

1 box of chicken stock (I think 4 cups)

Leftover ham, diced, as much as your heart desires

1 onion, chopped

1 zucchini, sliced into strips, then diced

1/2 a butternut squash, cubed

2 stalks celery diced

Italian seasoning

Salt and Pepper

Cheese on top for serving. It already tastes great, after a sample test bite!

Orange Cranberry Scones, found here:

(always keep some fresh cranberries in the freezer, you won't regret it!)

http://allrecipes.com//Recipe/cranberry-scones/Detail.aspx

And, here is just another little recipe I would like to share, found at another's website, because I was talking about these yesterday and the memory of them was just too much not to make this week. So, with out further ado,

Nanaimo Bars:

I found a recipe that I like here: http://thedaringkitchen.com/recipe/gluten-free-graham-crackers-and-nanaimo-bars

I did not use the gluten free graham crackers, I used plain old plain old. So, the award goes to the Daring Bakers at the Daring Kitchen for this recipe, and I am hopefully not going against any re-blogging rules.

Alright, hope everyone is safe in a warm place for this blizzard!

Meow!

2011-01-23T18:52:00.000-08:00

Alright, who has read about, or heard of, the Tiger Mom lady? She has been all over the news lately about a book she wrote called: Battle Hymn of a Tiger Mother. Basically her point is that she loves her children so much that she will not let them fail, because she will force them to do whatever it takes to succeed. And that may be sitting at the piano for hours with a child who is being forced to learn a song.

Yes, yes, after all the backlash this lady has received, there are many out there who are willing to sing her praises and agree that not backing down from your children should be the new vogue in parenting. But, listen up, who made it vogue for parents to tell their children that they are all special, unique, perfect, or allow them to determine what they think is best for them instead of the adult? Well, I would venture that it is this exact same crowd, albeit of a different generation--the liberal news media.

I guess I should just clarify a few things first for my brain's sake before I start hitting up this last paragraph for all the backlash it could cause me! This Ms. Chau lady tells her husband, in her book, which is a memoir, that even losers are special. The author of an article in Time magazine, of course, suggests that perhaps Ms. Chau is referring to Americans and American parents. Time wants to warp this book's subject into some kind of parable about America and the down-turn of the economy, linked closely to the rise of the Chinese economy. The article states that Chinese parents demand more from their children and expect higher results, congratulating their children for hard work well won, and not for accomplishing meaningless or menial tasks that American parents are known for lavishing their children with praise. The Asians are learning to work hard for their rewards, while American kids are learning that they are special for simply learning to feed themselves. And now America is going to Hell in a handbasket for it's non-efforts, while China will be laying golden eggs.

Okay, so a little tongue in cheek was that last paragraph, but that is basically the point of the article in last week's edition of Time. What Time failed to point out, and this is where I get back to my bold statement paragraph, that the liberal news media, which Time is a part of, has played a huge role in the "rainbows and butterflies" parenting epidemic. Before pants get in a twist, I am not taking away the responsibility of the parents in raising their children. I am simply going to say this: who has been giving voice to kids who want to sue adults for requiring them to do anything beyond what the kid thinks is appropriate? Is it not the magazines that tout how important and special and unique and green your children are? And if they are not green, you are raising them wrong? Who is sending out the political advertising that is targeted directly at children, telling them that they need to sit their parents down and have a serious discussion with them, demanding that they vote for a president that has no experience and has destroyed the country just because kids know better than their fuddy-duddy parents? The liberal news media.

The liberal news media thinks that they know everything, and wants to tell you how to raise your children. It will jump on a fad and beat it to death, and make you feel guilty for not getting on the bus too. It has taught a generation of parents to treat their children as miniature kings and queens, through parenting magazines and misleading studies, and even special report news segments. And if you don't agree, you are old and out-dated. How funny it is that now these very same people are suddenly singing the praises of a woman who has major control issues.

Perhaps you feel that I am not backing my argument up very well. And, really, I don't care. I've read those parenting magazines, and you have too, and if you are honest with yourself, you know what I am talking about--there the ones that tell you it's so important to be buddy-buddy with your kids. If you have children in school, they have probably also come home and told you that parents aren't allowed to say certain things to their children because it is now considered abusive. I have heard children say these things myself. Where do children get these ideas from? Adults with an agenda. If you want to shape a society, start with the kids. Take away their respect for their parents and they will then turn their attention to someone else, usually someone who gives them some sort of control.

American parenting did not go down hill until the American media started washing morals and respect for adults down the drain. Turn on your television and what programs do you see for kids? Tweens? Teens? Listen to the music played on the radio? Do any of these creative outlets scream out: "R-E-S-P-E-C-T yourself!"? It's more like, "get jiggy with it." And what kind of clothes do you see kids wearing? Would you want to take your girlfriend home to meet your parents in any of those get-ups? Or do you even care what your mom thinks?!

So there you have it, the battle hymn of the liberal news media--the great and spacious building that declares to all what is vogue-- in entertainment, parenting, and the attitudes towards parents--has quiet a hold on this pie. In my opinion. And once again, I am not taking away the free agency of parents, or taking away their responsibility for how their children turn out. I am just saying that the media holds a lot of sway. It does in any country. In China, the media has traditionally been run by a government who has dictated what is best. In America, the media is run by the liberal social groups who have an agenda. (If you don't believe that, go read the New York Times. And if you think I am still wrong or crazy, you are too far gone already). It's in their best interest to see teens follow fads that generate social change, whether bad or good; to question authority. It definitely does not care about building up the country or saving the economy.

I have two kids. They are young. Raising kids is not easy. It is hard, and not always something I want to be doing. I love those two rascals more than anything I can think of, and I would give my life for them, but they are not in charge of me, and I am the boss. That doesn't mean they are angels, or that I do not lose my temper with them, or that I do not have to force them do things they don't want to do. This blog post is not about how I don't agree with Amy Chau, it is about how hilarious it is that suddenly the liberal news media is switching gears again because of something that has made headlines--that is causing society to stir. And it is about how, or why, you shouldn't listen to everything you read in a magazine, a blog, or hear on the news. Make up your own mind, and mostly, go with your gut. Teach your children to respect adults because they should, and not because it is vogue. Kids will do things, and do them well, for people they respect. That is the oldest trick in the book.

I will say this for Amy Chau, I do agree with expecting the most from your children and instilling the values of hard work and discipline. However, becoming a drill sergeant about it is not the way to get the job done. Giving in when the going gets tough is also not the way to get things done. Being consistent and showing forth an excess of love after the battle of wills is probably going to get more results, and faster, than either of the former two.

Children are individuals, adults in embryo, that need to be taught, guided, and loved into becoming strong and courageous adults who are willing to stand up for their moral values and build up their community. If they are not shown love, how can they pass that on? That is what I say to Amy Chau. And to the liberal news media, I say, please do not tell my children how I should raise them.

Addendum to Boys and Their Toys

2011-01-23T18:49:00.000-08:00

I think my last post was about the beauty of boys sleeping with toys. Well, it is quite a wonderful thing to see your buddies snuggling with anything at night, but it is not so much cute when they wake up at 4 a.m. because they cannot find their toy, turn on the light, waking the baby, and rearranging furniture (pushing bed away from wall) all in an all out rescue attempt to find that silly piece of plastic.

Guess who will not be sleeping with his beloved Bumble Bee transformer dolly again?!

Boys and Their Toys

2011-01-20T17:39:00.000-08:00

I think the most rewarding thing for a parent (or anyone who has shelled out money for a toy) is to watch their children spend hours and hours with a toy in both hands playing out the extended version of their imagination movie. Until about last year, before I was brave enough to put AC into quiet time, he would NOT play by himself. Oh the agony of a child pulling at your legs constantly--"play with me, play with me, play with me!" Don't get me wrong, I play with my kids a lot. We read constantly, do board games, build block towers and lego castles, read some more, bake together, do word games and learning enhancing activities, but there comes a time when a mommy's got to do what a mommy's got to do. But now, he has become an old pro, with the occasional set back. Quiet time-- try it, do it, love it!

I am working on a little project right now that hopefully becomes a side business. That being said, finding the time to work on this project is almost like spinning gold out of straw, I need a Rumpelstiltskin! So, having my legs tugged on all day is a little stressful. Today though, actually, starting yesterday, my sweet AC has had two transformer dollies glued to his hands, and stuck in his head, all day long. I could not get him to put those things down, and even now, as he is all snuggled up nice and tight under his superman blanket, fast asleep, he is holding Bumble Bee as tight as he can. There's no letting go of that one, just ask the Superman dolly!

And just to prove Abrams is incredibly cool also, last week that little devil insisted on sleeping with a small ball the first night, and then a soccer ball sized bouncy ball the next night. With the larger ball, he cooed to it for a while, tried to figure out if he should sleep on it like a pillow (good luck!) and then decided, probably after his neck felt like breaking, to snuggle it like a teddy bear. Why these boys choose odd things to snuggle--books, hard plastic objects, superman dolls and underwear, transformers, and backpacks--I will never know.

G and F are for Family

2011-01-20T05:14:00.001-08:00

Sorry for all these pictureless posts. My computer does not accept my iphone camera and my other cameras are scattered to kingdom-com. But, I also want to put down a few thoughts, and those don't need pictures, right?!

I don't really know much about my family. My parents got divorced when I was young so I don't know any cousins from my Dad's side of the family. And my mom's story isn't much better. So, to bring this all back to Facebook, (because Facebook is running the world now), without it, I would not have been able to meet or see pictures of some of my cousins. It is really nice to see pictures of people that I look like. All my years growing up, I would look into the mirror and think: "who do I look like? Who's nose is that? Eyes? Ears? Who?" Now I know a little bit about the people who share some of my looks.

Also, let's get to that G. G is for geneology. I have never been a fan, because is has always seemed like it would take over your life, be extremely difficult, and lead to nothing. But, I got wrangled in to attending a class at Church and it got me thinking, perhaps it is not as difficult as I think. So, I sat down with my husband and all we had were three names to go on. Oliver Francis Cooper, Robert James Cooper, and Emma Kate Bowman. Well, we discovered quite a bit of information about these three names.

Back in the mid 1800's, Robert James Cooper arrived in Kansas from Pinckneyville, Illinois. We don't know why he came, but he was roughly in his mid 20's. He may have come for a girl, because he married one named Edith. 3 years after their marriage, she passed away. He then met the woman, Emma Bowman, and they had a child, Oliver Francis Cooper. He is my great grandfather, or maybe great-great grandfather. But, this is such a great story, and we discovered it all from 3 names.

A Read in the Salon

2011-01-18T08:22:00.001-08:00

Here is a link to an article published recently in Salon magazine.

http://www.salon.com/life/feature/2011/01/15/feminist_obsessed_with_mormon_blogs

It is an eye-opening look into the peer pressure of blogs, the culture of crafty, and the voyeurism that goes along with blogging. Read the article and determine your own feelings from it. The things I mentioned above are my own observations, so you get your own.

I did want to put down my thoughts though, because the article kind of sounded off a few of the things about my harry life that always throw me into a conundrum.

first of all, where is the time to be perfect that these bloggers seem to have? I have hobbies and talents and dreams of remodeling my home with my own craftiness, but seriously, who has the time to do all of this and take care of children with any sort of quality?
how do these women find the time to always look amazing and have amazing looking children and husbands?
How are they always finding the time to hone their crafty skills?
Who does their housework?
What pushes people to feel the need to document all their "amazingness"?

When I started this blog, I decided I did not want it to be a bragging ground for my kids and myself. I just wanted to have a place to put down thoughts and do some journal writing. Yeah, sometimes I might document the crafty things I do, but there isn't enough time to do all the crafty things I want to do. Sometimes I make the time and do these things, and I do blog about them because I want to remember for myself that I did them a few years down the road.

Part of me does understand the need for blogging and documenting, bragging and displaying. When a woman chooses to give up plans for a career to be a mom, bucking the trendy trend, and put aside the "me-me-me" mentality for a mere twenty or thirty years, that doesn't mean her brain and skills have to go on hold as well. Just because we choose to have children doesn't mean we have to give up any talents we possess.

Women are women because we have an ingrained sense of how to make things beautiful, creative, fun, lovely, and worth it. (I guess for the sake of the "creative" male community out there, yeah, men can do those things too, but men and women are different for a reason, and how many women do you find lumberjacking, and how many men are really sitting around scrapbooking?! So, for the sake of my own opinion, I am assuming that women corner the market in these areas).

Why not use all those God-given talents to make childhood fun, rewarding, and lovely for our families? Why not use that college degree to improve your family's quality of life? I have a degree in Anthropology. I haven't had a chance to move forward with it academically or career-wise. But I can use it to be a better person, mother, home-maker, and organizer. I can use my love of cultures to teach my children to be better, wiser, more loving people.

So, yeah, maybe blogging about every last cupcake we make is a little on the sweet and schmaltzy side, but who knows, perhaps that is that person's way of saying: "Hey world, I haven't forgotten myself, so don't forget about me. I've still go it!" Because Heaven knows, as I type these last lines, my own child is pulling at my leg begging me to come play with them. I guess I forgot to tell him I am supposed to be working on that Etsy shop I am trying to open!

Mommy Bonehead Moment

2011-01-18T08:06:00.000-08:00

Once again this year we are in charge of Stake YW/YM basketball Saturday. I say "we" because I am usually the one who ends up cleaning up the stage and getting the ball rolling once the games are over and it is time to put everything away. I also coach our ward's b-ball team again this year, and--a small moment of gloating--we have won all of our games so far!

Anyway, 7 a.m. to 5 p.m. makes for a really long day, also one where brains aren't quite right by the end. So, on a very cold Saturday evening, we all trudged out to the car as the sun was beginning to set, and in my efforts to get AG into his seat ASAP, I tossed the keys into the front seat and locked him in. I guess I thought that in the mean-time, Daddy A and son A would be opening doors and getting themselves into the car as well. Whoops! No way! They were either talking or kicking at the clump of snow that hides between the tire and the wheel well. So I slammed the door shut after getting the cute bundle in, went to open my own door, and ---lo, the door was locked up tight.

I began freaking out, only to be followed by Daddy A freaking out, and son A not quite understanding what was going on. AG, bless his soul, sat blissfully in the car watching the show. For his part, he did not cry once during the entire ordeal!

Daddy A kept saying, "Who do I call?! Who do I call?!" To which I kept screeching "911! 911!"

N-ville is great. There are cop cars everywhere, and for once I was glad. They came in less then ten minutes, two cars in fact--just to break into our car--and got him out before his little tootsies were cold. Here's one girl who is thankful for the po-po!

Once upon a time I locked a girl I nannied into the car. I can now mark two notches on my belt for that little slip-up. But, here's hoping it never happens again. At least to me!

Hello Brand New Year!

2011-01-02T18:34:00.000-08:00

Ring out wild bells! 2011 is here! And must I say, I am excited to get 'er done. There is always something refreshing about a new start, a chance to change old habits and air out the sheets. It is pretty obvious around here that this little blog project/family journal of mine has been lacking in posting and all around updating. But, as a New Year's resolution, I have held my arm to the square and solemnly sworn that I will update this blog with little gems of wisdom, or gobs of snot, that spew forth from the mouths of my children.

So, without further ado...

Alma Coop:

You are now 4 1/2.
You are beginning to say things that we have not taught you. "I don't want to have to do this for the rest of my life". You said this after we asked you to make your bed.
You soak up knowledge like a sponge.
You sing non-stop.
You love to do worksheets, color, play games, do puzzles, and build with blocks.
You still have an unhealthy obsession with Superman. I think you own about five pairs of S-man p'jama's and almost all of your t-shirts have S-man on them.
You are becoming quite mature and are listening to reason, able to make a compromise, remember that actions lead to consequences, and melt-downs are becoming less and we are able to talk you out of them most of the time.
You love to read, read, read. You love to point out letters and sound them out.
You are still going to pre-school and you love to go there and play with your pal Cooper Carn.

You are growing up so fast and sometimes it scares me. So I sit and hold you and run my fingers through your hair. Hold your hands up in my own and imagine how big they will be some day. All day long I hope that you know I love you. And sometimes, when you run up to me and give me 14 kisses without any particular reason, I am quite sure you do!

Abrams:

You are 1 1/2.
You started nursery for the first time last week. You loved it so much that this Sunday, you sprinted there without anyone taking you. AWESOME!
You love to emulate your brother. Whatever he is doing, you have to be in on. I just love how you pick up a crayon and come marching right over, sit yourself right down on one page of the coloring book and color on the other. Of course, your brother get's mad, but you are in on the fun!

You can climb on anything. Currently you are excited about climbing onto the table. If I leave you alone for a second, up you go.
You love to "jump". Really you are going into a squat, scrunching up your face, and then launching yourself forward without even moving your feet from the floor. Such power and such grace!
You are now sleeping through the night and napping once a day. YES!
You also love balls, dogs, and chocolate. Cereal and yogurt run a close second. If you would please just eat meat already, that would be great.
And, Mommy has decided it is time to stop nursing you. Yes, for the last 3 nights you have gone to bed like a big boy, stories, a bottle of milk, and songs with your brother. Than, into your crib you go, like a trooper. Ah sweet boy, it has been hard to let go of such close snuggling with you.
Oh, and one more thing, you are quite the little flirt.

Dear boy, you are a little sweetheart. You always try to be happy, you sing, you dance, you babble non-stop. And you will not be the little guy. You can keep up with the big A's and are great with a ball. I can't stop loving you and am glad we have a few more years with you before you go off to pre-school.

For the record, AlmaCoop would not cooperate for his photo shoot so there are no solo photos of him to share. Don't hate, if you have kids, you totally understand. Also, shout out to Cheryl Bikman for the rad photos!

Grandma's Polish Perogies Recipe

2010-12-17T08:39:00.000-08:00

There are few things I know about my mother's side of the family. One of those things is that my grandmother's parents immigrated from the Ukraine and settled in Saskatchewan, Canada. My grandmother was born in Canada, but was full Ukrainian. I was about 7 or 8 when she passed away and I remember very clearly going to her funeral and afterwards attending the family gathering where we ate some traditional family food. Perogies where on the menu. This year for Christmas, I am going to make perogies, and I am going to think about my grandmother, someone who I did not get to spend much time with. Merry Christmas Victoria Pearl Maruk Cooper.

Here is the recipe I will be using. I have made perogies before, and they are absolutely amazing!

Ingredients

4 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons salt
2 tablespoons butter, melted
2 cups sour cream
2 eggs
1 egg yolk
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
8 baking potatoes, peeled and cubed
1 cup shredded Cheddar cheese
2 tablespoons processed cheese sauce
onion salt to taste (optional)
salt and pepper to taste

Directions

In a large bowl, stir together the flour and salt. In a separate bowl, whisk together the butter, sour cream, eggs, egg yolk and oil. Stir the wet ingredients into the flour until well blended. Cover the bowl with a towel, and let stand for 15 to 20 minutes.
Place potatoes into a pot, and fill with enough water to cover. Bring to a boil, and cook until tender, about 15 minutes. Drain, and mash with shredded cheese and cheese sauce while still hot. Season with onion salt, salt and pepper. Set aside to cool.
Separate the perogie dough into two balls. Roll out one piece at a time on a lightly floured surface until it is thin enough to work with, but not too thin so that it tears. Cut into circles using a cookie cutter, perogie cutter, or a glass. Brush a little water around the edges of the circles, and spoon some filling into the center. Fold the circles over into half-circles, and press to seal the edges. Place perogies on a cookie sheet, and freeze. Once frozen, transfer to freezer storage bags or containers.
To cook perogies: Bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil. Drop perogies in one at a time. They are done when they float to the top. Do not boil too long, or they will be soggy! Remove with a slotted spoon.

Halloween and Aunt 'Beccs.

2010-11-16T05:21:00.001-08:00

We invited aunt Beccs to come out and visit us in our beloved town. She came in late September and while she was here we went to an apple/pumpkin farm. We accidentally went the day before it actually opened-- Whoops! But we still got there in time for fresh apple cider doughnuts! Shweeet! I guess that makes up for missing out on over priced carnival games. But, that does not mean we did not get to ride the raging tire horses! And boy, did we ride!

For Halloween, we dressed the boys as Holmes and Watson. Big A and I had been indulging our fetish for all things Holmes and decided that the best thing for our children would be to use them to live out our fantasy. It worked. Big A searched near and far for the costume essentials. Seriously, he searches through all antique stores and second hand clothing stores until he found the perfect hats, coats, shoes, and ties for the kids. Go daddy! The boys looked awesome thanks to their father. And finally, who doesn't want a pumpkin carved as superman?! Check out the photo!

blogging with iPhone

2010-10-29T12:27:00.001-07:00

So I have probably lost anyone who was remotely interested in my blog but my computer died a while back and I had no way of blogging. Without an app there is no way on earth to blog on an iPhone and I didn't even think of doing that!! So, this is a little experiment to see if I can bring this old boy back from the dead.

Cute-isms

2010-04-26T07:26:00.000-07:00

Yesterday AlmaCoop said the prayer over our dinner. It is so fun to hear the prayers little people offer up to God. Sometimes they are rushed so the child can eat his dinner, but sometimes they are thoughtful and big concepts are conveyed in very meager ways. Yesterday was such a day.

After praying for many things, including mommy, daddy, Abrams, and Alma, our oldest son than said:

"God, thank you for the food you have given us that is cold, and that we have to make hot."

Daddy Alma tried not to laugh and I sat wistfully, thinking about the sweet faith of a little person, who has an unchallenged belief in God and a small understanding of great big things. It is amazing to think that these little people are ours to teach about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, and even more intimidating to think about all the things they will be faced with as they grow older. It makes me feel like I have to wrap them up in armor and train them up now just so they can be ready for all that the world has to offer.

So sons, when Mommy tells you all about Jesus, and that he is your best friend and older brother, that he wants to hear from you all the time, about anything, and nothing is too bad or too good, I mean it. You came to Earth to learn about Jesus and to follow his ways, not to learn about Timmy, or Tommy, or Betty, or Sue. And their ways do not mean much and their words mean even less. I want you to know that because it is true.

Love, Mom

Alice Honeycutt

2010-04-20T19:08:00.000-07:00

My neighbour Alice Honeycutt is 87 years old. I feel very lucky to be her neighbour. She and her family has welcomed my own family into their hearts and home. Over the past year it has been hard to watch Alice go from being sharp as a whip to having difficulty stringing together a sentence. But she still takes a joke and is always out poking around in her garden or ready to walk out and talk with friends. In the past, I have tried to take my kids over to visit with her once or twice a week, but lately I have felt the need to get over there more. So, thank goodness the weather is cooperating, I think I am starting to become allergic to her cat!

One thing I love about Alice's house is the fact that her husband built it for her back in the 50's. The neighbourhood we live in used to be an old farm, an asparagus patch to be exact. When she and her husband first got married, they lived in the upstairs apartment of the last house bordering the farm. Their landlord suggested to Alice's husband that he should buy the land next door as word had gotten out the farmer was going to begin selling his land, and sure enough, Mr. Honeycutt did. Theirs was the first house built on the newly purchased farm land back in 1952.

Over the two years I have known Alice, I have tried again and again to ask her questions about her youth, how she met her husband, and being a mother. I could only get a few stories out of her because it seems like she has a selective memory. But, she did tell me that she and her husband married a few months before America began enlisting men into WWII. When they received his papers issuing him to war, she said they held each other and cried and cried and cried. I imagine that story a lot whenever I look out my window and see her light on in the darkening night. Or when I enter their home and see the house Warren built for Alice.

One thing I love about Alice's house is the basement. You can go down there and see all the old appliances she had right from the very beginning of her marriage. The old fridge that she painted more than once, but ended up being left a brown faux wood texture. That fridge wouldn't hold half the food we can cram into our fridges these days. She has her old washer and dryer that used to run on gas. She has an old cooker that is today's equivalent of a crockpot or turkey roaster but is the size of a stand alone oven (but only the top part of the machine is used). She has the old pram she used to push around her own babies in. The rocking horse her husband made for the girls. Old Tupperware containers. The first dining room set she ever had. Old couches. All kinds of stuff I just keep exclaiming about whenever I am down there. I love it. And I love that she kept it all and it looks like you could just go ahead and plug it in it is in that well-kept order.

I suppose I love to look at those things because I think about all the years Alice spent keeping house and home, and they are symbols of that. I am told that she kept a well-ordered home and yard. That she was always helping out other neighbours in need, and just a genuine busy body. I mean that in a good way of course.

Point-in-fact: Two weeks ago my sons and I were outside with Alice and her daughter Nancy, who is in her 50's. We were talking in the driveway and a car pulled up. We assumed they were there to see the house next door that recently went up for sale. But no, the family who got out said:

"Alice, do you remember us?"

It was a family that lived in the house next door 10 years back. Alice had been a wonderful friend to them, and particularly to the wife and baby son. She had helped them plant and harvest a garden, made cookies just for the son, and helped with sewing and other things too. This family had since moved to Nebraska and decided to come back to Naperville for spring break and they said if they did make it back, they had to come and see if Alice was still around, she meant that much to them. How perfect.

I think of that story and my heart smiles and smiles and smiles. And then it starts to cry a little bit for the Alice that once was and the Alice that is today.

Yesterday while the boys and I were at Alice's, I asked Nancy (her daughter) to show me her old recipes. I have always loved to look through peoples cookbooks. Not just because I want a mental picture of good food, but because food says so much about what people value and cherish. Going through the hand-written recipe cards was awesome. Some were painstakingly typed out, carefully written out, or hastily scribbled down. Most were splattered with bits of the recipe long forgotten. But as I held each one, I imagined busy Alice, robed in an apron, whipping up another delicious meal for her family.

Nancy let me take a few of the recipes home to copy out and return. I am really excited to do so. It is almost like I am taking a slice of history out of time and placing it here in front of me. Perhaps it is the anthropologist in me, but I almost feel like it is a sacred thing. Some of these recipes go back 50 years. And yet, I even found some recipes that are the same as a few of my own.

Both of Alice's daughters have different eating habits than she raised them by, so many of these recipes have gone unused. It's almost like a chunk of history has disappeared. I know that if I make the recipes, it will not restore that chunk, but perhaps it will sprout a new little history of its own. If they were favorites of one family, perhaps they could become favorites of another? I'll let you know.

RECIPE #1

Asparagus Bake

1 lb cooked asparagus
2 hard boiled eggs cut up
1 and 1/2 cup shredded american cheese
2 1/2 cups crushed potato chips

Place a layer of asparagus in bottom of casserole dish, sprinkle with alternate layer of egg, cheese, chips. Place a can of cream of mushroom soups on top and sprinkle with cheese and chips. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.

RECIPE #2

Applesauce Crisp

2 cups apple sauce
1/2 c brown sugar
1/4 c seedless raisins
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1 c biscuit mix
1/2 c granulated sugar
1/4 c butter or margarine
1/4 c chopped walnuts

Combine first 4 ingredients; pour into a round baking dish. Combine biscuit mix and granulated sugar; cut in butter until crumbly. Add walnuts; sprinkle over applesauce mixture.

Bake at 375 for 30 -35 minutes.

Note: the old recipe cards and papers have that grandmother's old perfume smell to them.

SPROING!

2010-04-18T12:56:00.001-07:00

Spring has sprung around here. And, just like last year, you can have a few shots of the glorious blooms!

FIRST EVER!!!

2010-04-18T12:54:00.000-07:00

A month or two ago (see how horrible I am at blogging?!) AlmaCoop gave his first talk in church.

Here is the talk, you can read it for yourself. I didn't get to see it that day, Abrams was sick so we played hookie from Church. But I was told it was award-winning!

Dick Tracy

2010-04-18T12:17:00.000-07:00

There are many things I did not know about the city we live in. And there are many things I did not know about Dick Tracy.

First of all:

N-ville loves its artwork--statues ALL over the place. Not just of loan men or mere women, but Picasso-ish, fountain-ish, Dr. Seuss-ish, and now Cartoon-ish.

Warren Beatty (who played Dick Tracy in a 90s movie) is brother to Shirley Mclaine.
My neighbour has several Shirley Mclaine biographies on her shelf

And, the current artist who draws Dick Tracy (is the cartoon still going?!) lives in N-ville. Who knew?

Thus, N-ville now has a 9 foot tall statue of Dick Tracy on the Riverwalk. Pretty cool if you ask me.

Good Buds

2010-04-18T12:12:00.000-07:00

I never thought this phase of life would come--when the boys would be friends and not sworn enemies. At least on AlmaCoop's part. Abrams has always loved his bro. (Notice how AC's name is morphing from "little Alma" to "AlmaCoop"? Notice it and note it. He's too big to be little anymore).

In fact AC just said: "We friends together, we can play gether." Couldn't have said it better myself. Except they are playing with markers together! Ga...

The Big Race

2010-04-18T11:50:00.000-07:00

Alma and Abrams love to play outside. So do I. Before the weather turned nice, I wondered how I would achieve this goal. Would I have to sit holding Abrams all the while as Alma rode his bike everywhere? One day I looked at Abrams' walker and new the answer--certainly not!

And behold, a great way to pass time, get yard work done, and enjoy the sun while my kids get exercise and have a ball--the walker/bike-a-thon!

B-Y-U R-U-G-B-Y

2010-04-18T11:45:00.000-07:00

If you know our family, than you know one thing: we are all about rugby. When I was in high school I ran with a crowd of boys who played rugby. Loved the energy of the game then, and swore I would find myself a rugger one day again! Lucked out, I did. Alma-Daddy was playing rugby long before I came along, and each one of his bros has played for BYU also.

Could I, therefore, blame Husband when he asked if he could go to Utah with Uncle Craig to go to a rugby game with Uncle Scot? No, as long as he took his mini-me with him. Sure enough, he did. Thank you husband.

The following are picture from the trip. I don't have much commentary about it, except to say that two men and one boy slept on a giant bean-bag. Like I said, no comment. Create your own, it could be fun.

As for me, it was nice to chill with Abrams for half-a-day, a day, and half-a-day.

Abrams-doos

2010-04-18T11:33:00.000-07:00

Abrams, stop growing okay?!
Learning to stand, and today he re-balanced himself while standing after discovering he was standing. Good sign.
Into everything--cupboards, toilets, dishwashers, bathtubs, garbage, small foam world balls, you name it.
Loves to push things around the house--books, socks, pillows, small foreign objects.
Big love affair with balls.

Crazy for his walker outside on the driveway.
Very interested in feeding himself all things.
Intensely jealous of older brother's sippy cup.
Intensely jealous of older-brother/Daddy outings he cannot participate in.
Freakishly unconcerned if strangers talk to him or touch him. Come on kid, ever heard of stranger-danger?
Has been convinced walks in strollers are good for him!
Almost 20 lbs. Feels like a ton of bricks.
Stopped sleeping for most of the night.
Has begun to say 'da-da-da', 'ba-ba-ba', 'wts-tha-wts-tha-wts-tha' while pointing to various objects.

Talks just as much as the rest of us do.
Demands the same amount of food as brother and Daddy. Good luck for our grocery bill!
Hates a diaper change, yet loves a bath.
Tickled with swings. Not so sure about slides.
Plays awesomely by himself.
Fetish for techno music--thank you baby!
Will go for a jog for up to an hour! Sweet Heavens!
Almost 10 months old.
Sporting 8 teeth.
Lots of bond hair in back and up top, but not at front.
And gorgeous blue eyes and great big smile!

Alma-isms

2010-04-18T11:10:00.000-07:00

"But Mom, I am 'haved." (After I have said "Behave".)
"Mom, I want to tell you something. Just one word. What are you doing?" (This question is asked almost every five minutes at our house)
Me: You can tell Jesus anything you want, he wants to hear from you. Alma: I want to tell Jesus that Abrams spit up.
"I want that for my birthday". Along time ago, so long ago I cannot remember when, we were at the store, and AlmaCoop began to sing the tune of: I want that, I want that. We told him he could not have those things now, but we would consider them for his birthday. It stuck, and now he tells us what he wants for his birthday everyday.
"I want to go to Superman town". AC will tell anyone and everyone that he wants to go there, and when he gets to go there. "When it is nice out side and warm like in the summer."
Alma has pretty much learned his ABC's by now and can name them by sight.
He can count past 10, but cannot recognize his numbers very well. Both good things for a child not even 4.
Alma is a favorite with the high school rugby team Daddy helps to coach, and with the rugby team Daddy and Uncle Craig play on.
Alma has learned to ride his bike very well. It has been fun watching him go from scared to ride it to straight to the NASCAR circuit.
Alma has learned to play nicely with most friends--particularly girls. He will play kitchen with them all the time. But watch out for the Superhero gig, it can get a little hands on.
Alma is also being a great older brother. He watches out for Abrams even when not asked too, tries to help feed Abrams, remembers the things Mommy has asked him to do regarding his brother, and loves to make Abrams laugh.
We have only had about 2 weeks of great weather and Alma is already tan as a minx. Looks great with those jade green eyes of his.
The constant questioning has begun--Why? Why? Why?

Love you lots little big A.

Re-memories

2010-03-24T17:21:00.000-07:00

One night last week my husband and I were laying on the floor together, half asleep, in the family room. This is how we spend most of our nights, in fear that our baby will wake up and scream for one, two, three hours. Sounds like fun, right?!

At least, in this situation, it did turn out to be quite fun...funny.

Along time ago, Alma and I were about to embark upon our first anniversary. Think about it, the first anniversary is probably something that girls look forward to almost as much as their wedding day. There are all kinds of stories about how couples celebrate their first year together in ultra romantic ways. Of course, I fell into this trap too, thinking it would happen to me. But like I said, this turns out to be funny, right?!

As June 25th, 2004 came around the corner, I mustered up all the male details I possibly could and threw them into a fabulously planned first anniversary date. What more could a guy ask for: take-out steak dinner to be eaten on a hill overlooking a baseball field, throwing the football around barefoot in the grass, and absolutely no argument over how long someone should get to play video games? I guess I forgot to add homework after dinner and falling asleep at home instead of picking wife up for dinner plans.

The big day rolled around and I was so excited. All week at work I babbled on about how great it was to be married and how I just couldn't believe we had made it through one year together. All the ladies I worked with were equally excited for me and couldn't wait for Husband to pick me up. They even agreed that I could leave 15 minutes early and waived blithely as I walked out of the building.

Too bad for me there were big glass windows at the front of the building and they could still see me. I mean, it would have saved me the shame of being stood up for my first anniversary. There I stood with the sun beating down on my back, a beautiful day turning quickly gloomy, as I waited and watched my co-workers filter out, moving off towards their own exciting weekends. Mine was beginning to look pretty grim. The fact that I had called my dear husband only two hours before to remind him when to pick me up kept replaying through my head.

Finally, when my boss, the last to leave, walked up to me and asked me if I would like a ride home, I had enough. As I accepted her offer, who should show up in our beaten up green Outback but Prince Charming himself. I thanked my boss and, giving my husband the benefit of the doubt, I skipped off towards the car. He just got hung up with homework, right?!

Wrong.

"Sorry, I fell asleep and lost track of the time." Greeted me as I opened the car door. And then I slammed it. Hard.

Strike 1.

For the record, the food was great, the company so-so. Take-out steak is a great idea, but eating it on a hill overlooking a baseball field and then throwing around the pig-skin wasn't. Husband decided he had to do homework after all, so we ate our dinner in a parked car in our driveway, then I got out and he went back to school.

Strike 2.

For an anniversary gift, husband got me the book I had been eyening, and not one to hold back my gratitude for the great gift, I cracked it open and settled in to wait for my husband to get home. When the door finally opened and in he walked, I put it down and asked him what he wanted to do. And wouldn't you know it, he went straight for the video games. Part of my anniversary gift to him was a promise not to complain about the length of time spent sitting in front of the television with a blank glassy-eyed stare on his face, so I picked up my book and went into our bedroom, ready to wait him out.

Hours later, I felt myself being shaken awake and hastily kissed. I looked at the clock, our anniversary was over and I would no longer be held to my promise not to complain about video games. Sorry guy, nothing doing tonight. And, dear reader, did my husband climb into bed with me to go to sleep? Let's just say---

STRIKE 3!

Yes, first anniversaries are generally held very dear to most couples, but in my case, the best laid plans were less than dear, perhaps even dire. And to say that Husband had quite forgotten this part of our history just goes to show that this particular day didn't exactly rank up there with other important life events like church basketball, teenage toilet-papering pranks, or the dreaded missionary stories.

For Dad

2010-03-23T19:13:00.000-07:00

Tonight my Almas' are gone. I am lonely, seeing as Abrams is in his bed all snuggled up a sleep. So, who do I call? My dad. I shared a story with him and he told me that I should be recording this down for a book someday. So, here it is Dad, a little something for you--character development.

"He" (for that is what he shall be named) likes to save things. All kinds of things, and not just stuff that has meaning. Like the scrap piece of paper he doodled on while talking with a potential client last summer over the phone. Loaded with meaning. It's not like he won a cash prize for it or anything, but if it helps him to remember the client's name and facts about the conversation, sure, I guess you could say there is some kind meaning to that scribble.

Truth is, He is wonderful at art. And it's not like I don't understand his desire to save all of the bits and pieces of paper that represent his talent. But, I don't want the pieces to be the only thing left behind that shares His gift. I mean, "Hey hon, let's show the kids your wonderful artwork," doesn't really work when you pull out a tupperware container full of dog-eared pamphlets or napkins from Fogo Da Chou decorated with poised hands or waiters' faces. So, I find myself saving the pieces up, stashing them, then coming back to them in a moment of cutter-panic, throwing them away, coming back minutes later with a guilty conscience, and stashing them right back again. It's a cycle of mine, but I guess it goes to show that I really do understand his need to save the pieces.

But, the thing is, it's not just the papers with carefully scribbled lines come to life that he likes to save. "Perhaps we could sell this," He says, holding up a Palm Pilot from 2000 that he bought off some dude advertising it on a college Sale board in 2004. We couldn't afford it then, but He had to have it, swearing it would help with his course load. Pretty good reasoning, I figured then. Besides, a newly married college student will believe anything her husband tells her as long as it means husband is going to go places one day to support the family. If only the Palm Pilot had lasted that long! Note to self, small digi-tech gadgets do not belong in back pockets. Never! And, probably due to guilt, or just plane pack-rattishness, the Palm Pilot has travelled from Utah, to DC to Chicago with us, almost like a cherished pet, or favorite book. "Perhaps we could sell this?" Probably not!

Sometimes I will get into the habit of purging. Not that kind of purging--I ate a pint of Haagen-dazs for dinner tonight. I will look around my home and feel like our belongings are beginning to take over our home. So, I will go through the whole house all at once, forget one room at a time, breathing heavy, practically wheezing, and just grab things off shelves and put them in bags--straight to the garbage. Or Goodwill. My philosophy: if we haven't looked at it or touched it for six months, we probably won't look at it or touch it for six more, twelve more, eighteen more, etc, etc, etc. I'm usually right. Some of the stuff I find in boxes or drawers, or plastic bins have been with us just as long as the Palm Pilot--3 moves across country. Does it have a place in our home? Should it be sleeping in my bed? Eating our food?! Listen, if we can't store our things in perfectly placed boxes and bins, no more than an inch or two apart, then Houston, we have a problem!

Then there are the days when I have finished a purge and husband will come home from work. Of course, most men head straight for the television or the bathroom, but not my husband. He likes to head for the garbage to see what has been thrown out that day. In the beginning I thought this was odd, and strange, and I would get really angry. Not that I still don't think it is odd and strange, and I get more than angry, but really, who picks through the garbage and says: "this stays, this stays, we could sell this for money....". Yep, probably not you. So, I have come up with a new tactic--just don't tell husband...when something is purged, it goes into the bottom of the garbage and then come the layers. Perhaps it will be a dirty diaper followed with and empty can or raw chicken bits, anything that keeps a man from going through garbage. Gross? Maybe, but so is picking through the garbage. At any rate, stealth is key!

I Almost Died and Other Disasters

2010-02-20T18:18:00.000-08:00

On Thursday night, I almost died. And it wasn't because of something cool; rather it was quite dumb. It would have landed me in the book of "Dumbest Ways to Die" for sure.

Who doesn't like to eat a little cold pasta? Well, I do! So, I thought I would have myself a bite of cold noodles and that's just what I did. I guess I did not chew well enough because when I swallowed they kind of just stuck there in my throat. To solve this problem, I took a drink. Well, stuck pasta plus have a glass of water equals choking. Yep, whoops. So, I sat there for a moment trying to "choke" the glob down. Sorry for the pun, but that is exactly what I was trying to do. Alma-Daddy just sat there looking at me, kind of laughing, while I tried to decide what to do to save my life. Seriously, I am trying to make this sound light humored because really, I was panicking for real. Finally I realized the food was not going down so something had to come up. I have never even considered forcing myself to vomit in my life, but today I decided to turn over a new leaf. Somehow I figured it out and slowly, after much coughing and interesting neck-thrusting, I got the water up and was able to finally get my peristalsis in action.

Since I am typing this blog segment, you can imagine how this event turned out. Needless to say, it is a deep surprise to me that I am still alive and walking.

Secondly, family, I want to record for history how we have spent our Saturdays January, February, and part of March for the last three years. Daddy has been either the coach of the YM basketball team, or in charge of running the YM/YW b-ball league. This year, Mommy joined the fun and coached the YW. Daddy does a great job every Saturday running the show like a professional. Mommy is really proud of him. When Daddy wants to do well at something, he does not let down. I mean, this guy can do anything he sets his mind too. And, Mommy wasn't such a bad coach this year either. And little Alma and Abrams, you two boys are the best mascots any b-ball league could ask for, except today when little Alma decided to run around the church with his pants down. I don't recommend this for Sundays!

Things to remember about B-ball Saturdays:

Alma and Daddy leave the house at 6:50 am and return by 5:00 pm. Long day, but Boy, you handle it very well and are now the best three-year-old dribbler I or anyone else in our Stake has ever seen. I mean, you are better than most teenage girls.
Mommy's team did great this year. With only five or six players a game, and playing against teams of up to fifteen or twenty, we have either won our games, or lost by less than ten points. Every one improved their game, but the girls who improved the most are the ones who have never had any b-ball experience whatsoever. Go Team!
Daddy certainly inspired the wrath of God in some of those coaches who wanted to throw down with him. But as always, Daddy remained calm and collected and behaved himself the perfect gentleman each time an irate coach screamed in his face. Of course it helps to have the ability to throw someone out of the game.
And Mommy will be remembered as the coach that took no crap from anyone and told her girls what to do every step of the way. Oh well, they did it, and they looked like they knew what they were doing out there when other teams looked like chickens with heads cut off.

I promise to put pics up soon and post more about what cool things the boys are doing. Oh yeah, little A has learned to write his name and it is the sweetest thing, I am sure every parent can agree, to see your babies grow up and begin to use their brains in awesome abstract ways. The kid sat and worked on math flashcards with me for 20 minutes the other day and consistently counted to 18 18 times!

BOOM!-SHOCK-A-ROCK-A!

2010-02-10T09:15:00.000-08:00

There was an earthquake here in the Chicagoland area this morning around 3:56 am. Need not fear, it was only a 4.3 on the R-scale, but it still made a great loud noise and packed a punch. Husband A happened to be awake due to sickness-- Note to Husband--not smart to shovel three driveways and a sidewalk in hoody and wet shoes. Must wear more appropriate clothing next time! He came running into the room and asked me if I felt the shaking. I didn't feel the shaking, but was roused from not so deep sleep by the BOOM! that happened seconds before. Of course, the fraidy-cat I am, I didn't want to admit that it was an earthquake. Stuff like that just doesn't happen to normal people like me. Too bad J, guess again!

One man said he heard a great rumbling beneath his bed/house, and suddenly he was shaking like a jelly-roll in his bed. At least there was no harm done, at least not any has been reported at this time.

Naperville Earthquake

WHOOPS!

2010-02-07T12:51:00.000-08:00

A few small stories captured for posterity:

#1:

Alma-Coop, Mommy went out one night and left Daddy home with you two boys. You were both sleeping, so all appeared safe. While Mommy was gone, you woke up crying in your bed. Daddy didn't know why and tried to ask you what was going on. He finally discovered you had to go to the bathroom and off the two of you went. He helped you get your jammies off, the stool out, and the toilet open. You must have still been quite sleepy because you stepped onto the stool, and kept climbing up, right into the toilet bowl. WHOOPS! Somehow Daddy managed to calm you down and get your business taken care of, new jammies on, and fast asleep in no time. At least we know that you have the ability to wake up from sleep should you have to use the bathroom.

#2:

Mommy and Daddy took the boys to the car wash one day. Before going to the carwash, however, Mommy had been talking to a friend through the window and must have not rolled all the windows up properly. How unfortunate then, when we began our trip through the car wash and water began spraying in all over AlmaCoop in the back seat. Mommy was wondering why the smell of soap was so strong, and AlmaCoop didn't even utter a word as he got drenched. Daddy, however, did utter a word, a few words, when he looked back and saw water spraying into the car. Double WHOOPS!

#3:

One afternoon AlmaCoop announced he had to go to the bathroom. He is pretty efficient in the bathroom on his own so Mommy did not follow him. But on this afternoon, AlmaCoop must have forgotten one key step in the potty process. A loud shriek sent Mommy racing to the bathroom and there she found little Alma, potty seat in hand, tiny bum wedged firmly into the toilet. Triple WHOOPS!

And, to Abrams who is now crawling, pulling self up and generally eating everything he wants to: you are currently crawling around the house, spewing spit up from your mouth and nose, trying to get your bowels to move. Hope you get that figured out, we need to clean our carpet ASAP.

Old New Idea

2010-02-02T07:51:00.000-08:00

Here is an Old New Idea I had ages ago: read a book/books on different subjects each month. I dreamed that one up years ago, probably, and never got around to it. Guess what, I always start thinking about this and choose ART HISTORY as the area I want to start reading about. I love art history, well, history period...

So, I am going to take myself to the library tonight and find a book that is big, with pictures, and read it by the end of the month. Then I will write a book report on it via this blog. I am going to use my powers of reading to further my education, I guess, since right now I am getting an education in child=rearing.

On that subject, quickly, there is a really good book on parenting called: Raising an Emotionally Intelligent Child, by John Gottman. I really like it. It has helped me remain in control of my temper--ha ha, for the most part--when dealing with little A. So, there is one book for you.

J

My Boys

2010-02-01T20:11:00.000-08:00

My Boys! What a lucky person I am to have you in my life. How cliche of me to say, but every day I look at you and stand amazed at the two tiny beings before me. It is hard to describe, the feelings that race through my heart, but at the center, there is pure gratitude to Heavenly Father for sending you to me.

They say that having children will change you. Well, whoever "they" are, they are right. Of course there are days that are difficult, that leave you wondering why you signed up for this gig, but then someone says something, or looks at you with large round eyes, or hugs you, or lays a sloppy wet kiss on your cheek, or snuggles a sticky hand in your own, and the struggle becomes worth it. I guess today was one of those days.

Today AlmaCoop eagerly helped set the table, clean up dinner, and participated in Family Home Evening. He was kind to his brother, requested primary songs, fell into the toilet, obediently went into quiet time, used his imagination, and willingly ate collared greens. I don't get it, where did that crazy little boy go? He still goes a mile a minute, but he is turning into something more than he was even weeks ago. Sure, there are still tantrums and swinging fists, even biting teeth sometimes, but they are becoming less and less. And gosh, is this kid bright?!

Hey, I know I am doing something quite like bragging right now, but hey, I made this blog private for a reason, I wanted to write these thoughts down for my family to read through and remember. So children, I want you to know that I just adore you.

And Abrams! Tonight you didn't cry when I put you in your bed! Wow, it has been a long time in coming. Mommy just had to get smart enough and put you to bed way earlier than normal. Sometimes it is hard for me to put you down and leave your soft cheeks and snuggly warmth, but I have to learn to let you go now so you can be big and strong like your brother when you are older.

It is so awesome to see my little baby sitting up, crawling around, pulling himself up on everything, and demanding to be part of our family. My favorite times are when I can tell you are looking for your brother and want to be a part of what he is doing. I just know there is going to be lots of trouble in my future!

And baby, you are smart too! You are already pushing toys and cars around the house like you are playing with them.

I love you two so much,

Love Mommy~

Tiny Bum

2010-02-01T13:07:00.000-08:00

Today little Alma fell into the toilet. He must have had a relapse and forgot to put his potty seat onto the regular toilet seat. Whoops! Gotta love those tiny bums! Hmmm, that sounds....wrong.

Abrams is crawling now, like a demon. And, hold up, he is also pulling himself up onto all kinds of crazy things: the dishwasher, bathtub, etc. I guess he would like some chores.

One thing Abrams is not doing is sleeping by himself. So, welcome to week four of crying-it-out. Yeah, pretty long time to not get it figured out. I must be doing something wrong, like not putting him down at the right time. Get it together Mommy!

Quinoa Recipe

2010-01-27T07:50:00.001-08:00

As per discussion this morning, here is a great recipe using Quinoa. I found it at a great recipe site: 101 Cookbooks. This is a great site for healthy recipes. I have tried a few, and some friends have used the site as well, always with good reviews. Admittedly, I am not into the organic thing, nor am I vegetarian, so sometimes I will take a vegetarian recipe and throw a little meat on it. Right now, you can find me salivating over pork. I don't know why, but I would rather choose the other white meat over chicken or beef right now. But, you decide what meat you like for yourself.

Quinoa Big Bowl with Potatoes and Green Beans. Her recipe calls for asparagus and walnuts. I used green beans and carrot slivers, (I just bought a bag of pre-prepared green beans, for the microwave, but you could use fresh or frozen green beans too). It worked out really nicely. I even got a compliment from the main Meat-eater himself, Daddy A.

If you want to make this meal even more your own, I would recommend cooking the Quinoa in chicken stock instead of water. We have done this before and it gave the Quinoa an even deeper flavor. But, for sake of time and ingredients, water is great too. Quinoa cooks up like rice, so nothing new on that front.

For the record, I used the dressing she suggested, citrus parmesan dressing.
However, because I did not have white vinegar in the house, I used Balsamic Vinegar. I think it turned out well. Also, it is worth noting, if you have children in the house, that the dressing did not go over well with the 3-year-old crowd. Plain will do, especially if you put a little grated cheese on it.

This recipe is like another recipe I posted about a few times back from the Everyday Food Magazine: Warm Spinach Salad with Fried Potatoes. So, I suppose that you could even serve this with spinach and/or hard boiled egg chopped up.

Also, if you are stuck with leftover Quinoa or have some uncooked in the pantry, try using it in place of rice in stir-fry's, or even adding it to a meatless Chili. We have done this before and my husband had no clue there was no meat in the chili; it gives the Chili the same texture as if ground beef were in it. Of course, the ground beef would have to be really ground up!

So there you go, a few new ideas for your cooking adventures. I know I look forward to making dinner if it isn't the same old thing over and over again. And thanks to our sons for joining me on this adventure. You boys are awesome when it comes to eating whatever is placed before you! Though AG, you did throw up the Quinoa! (Okay, he's 7 months old).

J

Another Recipe, or two

2010-01-22T10:07:00.000-08:00

I have been meaning to post these two for a while.

First off, who doesn't love rice with creamy sauce? I love-love-lover it! So I have created my own recipes that go with them. It's not because I am some awesome cook, its just because you use the base for something so many times that you become adventurous and bored.

So, first, Chicken Curry with a J:

Cream of Chicken Soup
sour Cream (I have used yogurt before too, just not as creamy)
Coconut milk (don't use light, whatever you do. Also, plain milk will work too, but coconut is more fun!)
Curry paste
I combine these ingredients until I get the taste I want. Also add salt and pepper to taste.
Into this mixture put some sauteed chicken (you can also cook the chicken in the microwave and cut into bite size pieces if you are down on time, I have done this before. Just defrost it first, then microwave it)

Cook rice

Cut up some fresh pineapple and serve over top the rice and sauce

Totally awesome with either steamed broccoli or green beans. Like totally!

Second recipe:

Creamy Italian Chicken

Same deal: 1 can of CoChiken
Sour cream
Envelope of Italian dressing mix
Some milk if you think it needs thinning
diced garlic
can of diced mushrooms, you could prob use fresh mushroom also
bacon bits, I used packaged, they weren't dehydrated, but you could fry up your own and crumble (Sunday meals at our house are usually accompanied by lots of crying and screaming, so we like to cut corners)

Okay, so I think that sums it up. Now simmer for ten minutes to let it all get juicy. Add that chicken.
We ate it over rice and green beans. Feel free to fiddle with your own sides and starches.

Baby Meatloaf

2010-01-22T09:56:00.000-08:00

I like Meatloaf like a "Bat Out of Hell". Who doesn't?

Here is a twist on a great recipe I found here: Bacon Wrapped meat Loaf with Brown Sugar Ketchup glaze

Here is the twist-o:

I used ground turkey instead of the meatloaf meat mix they suggested.
I also added a squirt or two of ketchup to the meaty mix
I used the oatmeal they suggested, and used a bit more than they suggested also (I did this to make the mixture less liquidy. Don't worry, they turned out fine!)
I doubled the amount of mustard and worcestershire sauce
I also substituted the white vinegar in the sauce for Balsamic vinegar because I am running out of white vinegar. For the record, the sauce was awesome too.
Instead of using Buttermilk, you can use 1 cup of milk and some vinegar, usually 1 tbsp, but now I just pour a bit of lemon juice or vinegar in to make the curdled milk. This option works in many types of baking that calls for Buttermilk.
And what else? Oh yeah, I have made these into meatballs before, and I have twice baked the mixture in muffin tins to create self-serving meatloafs. The kidlet likes this. Bake them at 400-ish for 20-25 minutes and just spoon the sauce over top. Put a pan underneath your muffin tins in case of drippage.

We love these. The Alma-guy kept screaming for more. And I do mean scream. And check it, with turkey meat and oatmeal, you rock the health charts, right?! Oh yeah, and Baby Abers was pretty pumped about them too.

Sorry if the directions are a little scatter-brained, I am scatter-brained right now.

J

Picture Posts

2010-01-07T09:08:00.000-08:00

Abrams appears to love chocolate milk. Perhaps he is a little too young for such divine-bovine pleasures?!

We made lots of Christmas cookies this year. Little Alma helped every step of the way. He is turning into a very good cook. Good thing Santa brought him his very own kitchen for Christmas.

Another knitting project for a friend. It is a neck warmer for these freakishly cold Chicago winters. Will she wear it? Who knows.

Alma Husband wanted to take a few pictures of me for some reason. I am looking freakishly ugly these days, just like the freakish Chicago winters. Perhaps it is lack of sleep and general frustration with not having had my hair cut for decades, or lack of time to do anything else with my hair but let it dry and throw it into a ponytail. Oh well, wah wah me.

Randoms

2010-01-06T19:46:00.000-08:00

I have been at this updating thing for two hours now and I am losing steam. So here are a few random thoughts from my head to yours:

I love the show 'Man vs. Food'
Abrams, until this week, routinely had blowouts almost twice a day for a month--awesome.
I have found a new detective series to replace my love for Hamish Macbeth-- The Constable Evans Mysteries.
I need to start doing things instead of just thinking about them.
I have been working on the same knitting project for 3 months and 1 week. The yarn I am using for this project has been used in many failed projects before, and has been in my stash for over 3 years. By those stats, I would say I am a pathetic knitter.
Not much else, my head is sadly empty.
Oh, wait, I really like the "Jesse Stone" Television movies with Tom Selleck as the main character.
Everyday, I find myself dying to play the piano, a strange occurance as I was not a fan of practicing during my youth.

Daddy's New Office

2010-01-06T19:43:00.000-08:00

Daddy Alma has been working away from home for the last month. He claims that the basement is starting to feel like a cave. I don't blame him. I hate going down there to do the laundry. At least he has started to do more laundry, thus my trips up and down the stairs have decreased.

He now works out of Caribou Coffee. They have free Wi Fi and they don't require that you spend anything on their products to use it. The downfall, he comes home smelling like burnt coffee each day. But we will keep him!

Knitting

2010-01-06T19:06:00.000-08:00

Guess what?! I made some shoes. Yeah, I did. Don't laugh. I found a pattern for a felted pair of ballet flats that was adorable. So I sat down one saturday and went to work. Abrams participated by sleeping for 3 hours and Alma-Daddy and Alma-Little-Big cooperated by either going bowling or to a movie. Now that I think about it, it was bowling. Those two have so much fun.

To 'felt', you just throw wool into the hot cycle in your washing machine. The hot water coupled with the agitation of the water equals shrinkage. You may have stumbled upon this phenomenon while washing one of your own woolen sweaters. I know I have.

And here's the story: when Alma-D and I were a young couple, he had a beautiful red wool sweater made by Victorinox, also known as the Swiss Army company. He wanted me to wash it for him, and so I said I would. I had no clue what to do with a woolen sweater so I just threw it into the washing machine with the rest of the dark clothes. 2 whoopses.

Wool does not belong in the washing machine, or in hot water
I washed a phone book (that's where it went!) with the laundry

So my friends, the sweater not only shrunk a bit, but it was covered in what resembled snow. At first I did not realize the sweater had shrunk, so I just thought, 'I will throw it back into the wash'. Ugh, now I quake to think about the loss of this poor sweater. But, the snow did not melt. Next, I got out the vacuum to try to vacuum away the evidence of my supreme-o failure. It was not to be however, Alma walked in to witness the disaster. And dear reader, he did not even dump me or raise his voice. He knelt down beside me and helped me vacuum off the now doll-sized sweater. He did, however, mete out his revenge--he made me keep the darn thing. And once we were married, he made me try it on.

Now where were we? Ah yes, felting. I thought it was time to have another go at it. This time, pre-meditated.

I will let the pictures do the talking, but I will say this: before the shoe fit, it was probably a size 20 shoe!

Baby Abers and Alma-do

2010-01-06T14:23:00.000-08:00

6 months down and we are off to the races. This kid has 5 teeth now, 3 on bottom, 2 on top, and he is crawling! Watchout Little Big Alma.

18.4 lbs
28 inches
crawling
eating everything
tripod sitting
starting to learn to sleep on his own (thankyouthankyouthankyou)
babbling like mad
plays awesome with his toys
laughs so hard at anything
loveloveloves his daddy
is a smiling son!
bites everything
has 4.75 teeth

Alma-do

3.5 years old
soccer player
pre-school pro
swimming lessons
totally potty-trained
talking a mile a minute
asking 4 million questions
cracking jokes
very mature
handsome devil
playing better with friends

Destructo Boy

2010-01-06T14:09:00.000-08:00

Abrams is an excitable eater. he sits in his bumbo seat and will lean, back-bend, reach, struggle, anything, to get at whatever he is NOT eating. Here is evidence...

Abrams is an excitable eater. he sits in his bumbo seat and will lean, back-bend, reach, struggle, anything, to get at whatever he is NOT eating. Here is evidence...

Decorations

2010-01-06T13:45:00.000-08:00

Christmas decorations! Got to love them. And at our house, it might appear that we love them oh so much!

We got the festivities started early this year, right on December 1st. I think every one finds it hard to wait to get out the Christmas tree, lights and stockings that bring in the Christmas cheer. Last year our Christmas tree was tiny, I mean, it went up to my chest, and I am no giant. But it was all good, for we had one child that was a whopping 2 and he didn't really get the point of decorations anyway except that the lights sparkled and the wrapping paper could be ripped.

This year, however, a different story. It became apparent that, during the Halloween season, he became very interested in how houses decorated their doors and he would ask why our house wasn't very scary. So, naturally, this year a tree that tops out at my chest would not cut it. But really, who wants to shell out the big bucks for a Christmas tree these days. Even the small weenie trees are going for over $50. I begged Daddy to get a real tree this year, and miracle of all Christmas miracles, he did!

We set up a tree, a homemade advent calendar, and I even went hog wild and sewed up some stockings. Good fun all around. Here is the photographic evidence that Christmas touched our hearts this year.

Tackle

2010-01-06T13:16:00.000-08:00

It is time to tackle the job of updating the post. I think that Thanksgiving is up.

This year we went to Alma's parents house in Indiana for Thanksgiving. If you will remember, last year I was pregnant, recovering from a broken nose, and being threatened by the overwhelming smell of roasting turkey wafting through my house. This year, we fared a little bit better.

Alma's sister RaeAnna joined us with her 5 kids: Clark, Tommy, Elizabeth, Scotty, and Christopher. Alma's brother Craig and his girlfriend Amber were there, and of course, Grandma and Grandpa Clark. It was fun to be with family and friend. But Amber, we consider you family!

RaeAnna and her children stayed at a hotel during their stay and they generously invited us to swim with them one evening. Fortunately, I brought my camera and captured the event. Unfortunately, that is the only light my camera saw. Daddy Alma and his his daddy Alma created a new game for the oldest boys Clark and Tommy: who can launch the highest off the old guys' shoulders. Whichever boy got closest to the ceiling won. I will tell you this much, after many years lifeguarding, my stomach was in my throat the entire time. Spinal waiting to happen!

The only other highlight of swim time worth mentioning, because who can really hear much in an echoing indoor swimming pool amidst the screams of joy and chaos, is the big fat whirlpool created by all the Clark clan swimmers. They had the entire pool swirling as if a vacuum was sucking everything down. And when they all turned to go the opposite direction, not even Daddy Alma could move against it. Smashing!

So, dear readers, and family of future reading this, Thanksgiving 2009 was good. Food was good, family was great, swimming a splash, and everyone had a good time. That is, until an old friend reared it's ugly head. 5 minutes before departure, little Alma decided to give the ol' bite one last hurrah! Yep, poor Scotty and his thumb. Goo. Little Alma, Choose the right, not chew's the right!

Happy Thanksgiving.

Today...

2010-01-06T13:11:00.000-08:00

Is not over yet, but so far I have:

been to swimming lessons. Little Alma started his first, well second, swimming lessons class today. He is a beginner, lets leave it at that.
changed 2 poopie diapers.
discovered an empty "sticky" tube of vaseline.
cleaned up vaseline spill. Little Alma is calling vaseline "gasoline" these days, so maybe I cleaned up an "oil" spill.
vacuumed up a Christmas tree
played some primary songs on the piano
and did some "Yoga Booty Ballet"; not a word of a lie, that is the retarded title.

And it is only 3:15 in the afternoon. Phew....

Abrams' Baby Blessing

2009-12-26T09:54:00.000-08:00

I found this sheet of paper lying around and I was about to throw it out, but I turned it over and realized it was the notes I had taken for Abrams' baby blessing.

So here are the notes written down for my family:

knowledge of who he is and where he came from, and who he can become
recognize others as Children of God
share gospel
have empathy for fellow men
health
strength
strive to please God
seek for Knowledge
provide for family
have talents and energy
joy and happiness
connect with others
service
protect women and children

I should note that the last bullet "protect women and children" was added by Daddy as kind of an afterthought. It made Mommy laugh because it was so randomly placed and used instead of the average "find a wife and marry in the temple and have children". That's Daddy for you, always trying to find the right words that are the least offensive.

TRIPLETS!

2009-12-21T10:55:00.000-08:00

Proof that Daddy A is Daddy A afterall.

Must Blogs

2009-12-17T10:16:00.000-08:00

A list so I don't forget:

thanksgiving
christmas decorations
knitting
pooping
cookies
daddy's new office

Time for New Things

2009-12-17T09:49:00.001-08:00

Holy guacamole. It has been forever since I have updated the ol' blog-o. But, such is life when one of your children does not sleep---E-V-E-R!!! But since I have determined that this form of information storage is to be our new family database, I've got to get crankin'.

So, Abrams updates:

5 months 3 weeks-ish
18 lbs
working on crawling
3 teeth, possibly 5 (if I could get his mouth open long enough)
takes a morning nap almost every day for 1 1/2 hours
that is the only nap or sleeping ritual I can count on right now
regularly poops through his clothes! At least he does not have BM problems like little A did
blows bubbles non-stop--it's his mission to blow raspberries!
very determined to grab food off the table while sitting in his bumbo seat
eats cereal twice a day and veggies and fruit 2-3 times a day
Still nurses, but is so darn curious it is quite the frustrating ordeal
still quite bald
still spitting up a ton
still being "loved-to-death" by bro!
wearing 9-12 month clothes. Growing like a weed

Little AlmaCoop

growing like a weed
is now bald--new haircut
making jokes like the mad-hatter
loves to be scared
loves to be chased
loves to do puzzles
loves to sing, dance, play piano
still loves to cook
is hungry all the time
will eat anything and I do mean anything
very excited for Christmas
Loves preschool
loves soccer class and has awesome skills and stamina
is sleeping in to seven most mornings now (thank goodness for darker mornings)
is waking up in the night when he has to go to the bathroom...good news for the potty training adventure

Alright, the bad mother that I am, baby is crying and I am typing away. Must run, but here are a few photos.

Yummers and more Yummers

2009-11-13T15:16:00.000-08:00

Here is what we are having for dinner tonight. This meal may appear at first glance to be strange, as it involves spinach. But who now a-days is not a fan of the spinach? Seriously, try this and you will be in heaven. I love, love, love it!

http://www.marthastewart.com/recipe/warm-spinach-salad-with-fried-egg-and-potatoes

Two Teeth To Bite YOU With

2009-11-13T15:13:00.000-08:00

Well, little A is about to get his payback. That's right, after years of biting everyone else, brave little Abrams comes along and pops out two bottom teeth in two days and is eager to get anything in his mouth. We have yet to hear big bro scream in pain as the little nipper chomps down on his tormentor, but, I have no doubts it will happen. I just hope I am there with a camera to see it happen.

And by the way, Abrams is 4 months old. Is two teeth a little over-the-top? Or what?

Can You Guess Who We Are?

2009-10-29T10:49:00.001-07:00

Two guesses who our boys dressed up as for Halloween?!

First Day of Pre-School and other Adventures

2009-10-26T15:13:00.000-07:00

Hooray little A! Today was a very big day for you! You went to school for the first time!!! And you only had to go to time-out twice while you were there. We hope that you keep on learning and having fun, and perhaps try harder to listen to instructions. Mommy and Daddy love you.

And small Abrams! You have been dying to eat people food for quite some time now. Your first few bites you did not know what to do with your food. But we will keep trying. And could you please not roll over quite so much? Mommy and Daddy don't know what to do with you anymore! You just keep rolling and rolling and rolling, and you aren't even four months old yet!

Updates

2009-10-19T19:34:00.000-07:00

Little A:

"That water coughed me"
Starting preschool soon
interested in building little "homes" or tents all over the house
6 straight months of Superman
wears undies now
had first real haircut

Abrams:

can roll from front to back
is grabbing toes
grabbing toes than rolling to side
must be teething because wants to gnaw on my pointy chin
plays with his toys now and fusses when they fall out of his grasp
insanely jealous of anyone who is eating anything other than milk
will try to imitate arm and leg movements of Mommy
laughs when Daddy puts his chin in A's armpits
is already hanging out of his carseat
insanely cute

Abrams

2009-10-11T18:13:00.001-07:00

Abrams turned 3 months old on his Daddy's b-day. What's this kid up to? Considering all the hullabaloo going on at our house?

he's a mover and a shaker. This kid wants to crawl so bad you can see it in his eyes.
he weighs 16.7 lbs
he is 26.7 inches longs
his head is in the 75th percentile for kids his age- smallish
he smiles ALL the time
he spits up ALL the time
has slept from 10 pm to 5 pm once
laughed at his brother's torturing tonight for the first time
gabs all the time
is gaining better control of his hands
has a major blow-out almost every 2 hours--nice!
fought back for the first time this week--pulled out some of bro's hair
has rolled over 3 times
wiggles when he is big time excited
loves to open his eyes extra wide always

Good job Abrams. We look forward to the rest of our lives with you!

"I Want My Underwear"

2009-10-11T17:38:00.000-07:00

Some nights our children cooperate and go to sleep easily. Other nights, it ain't happenin'. Tonight was just one of those. I have to say it, but there is a love/hate relationship with Sundays. The crash, bang, wahhh, boom, of bedtime struggles can sometimes even wipe away the joy and warmth of a good Sabbath day and cozy church experience.

We have been riding the 'potty train' this past week. After a few months of ho-hum: "Do you want to try using the potty?" and keeping the kid in diapers, I finally pulled out the undies and got rid of the diapers. Except. Except at night.

And that is a big EXCEPT. After a whole week and several car rides and outings, little A has had two accidents, which I think is pretty good. But we still put that diaper on at night. Who wants to clean sheets every day, I ask you? Well, not me when I am functioning on 2-4 hours of sleep a night.

Bedtime was exceptionally trying tonight because little A decided he wanted to wear the undies to bed and have nothing to do with his diaper. Hey, that is progress, but an hour long tantrum with absolutely no compromise in sight is a little over the pot...er...top. "I WANT MY UNDERWEAR ON UNDER MY JAMMIES!" "NO DIAPER!" rang loud and clear through our house at top volume. I wonder what all the neighbours are thinking?

After much tears and trying to break the door down, we found a compromise. No, it wasn't the plastic pants over top the extra padded training undies. It definitely was not the superhero undies that have become the new tighty-wighty. It was extra padded training pants over top the diaper. At least he gets to wear the underwear under his jammies and I don't have to wash sheets.

Can You Find Them?

2009-10-07T20:56:00.000-07:00

Who doesn't love Jammies? Pictures for a husband that might be missing his fam...

Newest Family Member

2009-10-07T20:54:00.001-07:00

Off Craigslist, missing almost every ivory key top= Free

Having a piano to "play"/stumble over= priceless

Birthday Boy-ee

2009-10-07T20:35:00.000-07:00

So, Daddy A had a big birthday two weekends ago and the horrible wife-y that I am, I didn't have much planned for the big 3-0. I felt so bad. But, hey, I just keep telling myself that life with a 3 month old and 3 year old, 3 hours of sleep a night, and 3 weeks of travel is kind of tricky. And now, continuing with that theme, I have a 30 year old. Hurray for the Clark family!

At the last minute, feeling quite remorseful, I invited friends over for cake, the Carns, a wonderful family that I love-love-love, over for dinner, and even asked the b-day boy for his input on what kind of cake he might want. His request? A 3-layer neopolitan cake. Yep, just like the icecream--chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. So, add that to the paragraph above riddled with today's number 3. The Sesame Street Count would be so proud, bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha....(alright, I am losing it).

(lovely gift from the Carns, read the box top and bottom pic carefully)

Unfortunately, or fortunately, I have no pictures of the cake. It was gone in a flash. But I will say that the combo of choc-van-straw sandwiched between fluffy cream cheese icing and topped with a hard shell of chocolate glaze was just about as good as you are gonna get. And lets not forget the last minute decision to pour blue food coloring on top in an attempt to get the number "30" on the cake. We all had blue mouths to prove we came, we saw, we ate the cake.

And the surprises did not end there. The next day, around 11:00 am I was busy vacuuming the floors when I heard little A say; "Daddy's Daddy is here." I thought my child was talking nonsense or having very vivid waking dreams. Gpa Clark lives 3-4 hours away and leads a very busy lifestyle. But sure enough, as I walked to where my son was hanging out coloring on the wall, there was Gpa Clark. He had driven all the way up to our house to help my husband, his son, dig up our front yard and prepare it for grass.

Now, my friends, I tell you, that is sweet. I felt like crying right there, but held it in because who wants to look like a big boob in front of your father-in-law? I know my big A was touched by his daddy's thoughtfulness, and for the record, the front yard looks awesome.

So, for unplanned birthdays, it wasn't so bad after all. Lets just hope I can get my act together in time for the big 4-0.

Side-trippin' to the Mile High City

2009-10-07T12:11:00.000-07:00

Alright, so the journey didn't quite end in Texas. On day one of our trip, dear old Daddy A got a call from work asking him to make a detour to Denver on our way home. And could he please be there for what amounted to about a week? Sure, why not, sounds like fun.

And hey, what's a chance to visit Denver without family there? My oldest brother, Uncle Batman from a few posts ago, lives in Highlands Ranch with his family and we figured that since Uncle B always drops in on us, we should do him the pleasure of dropping--moving---in with his family for a week. They have 3 kids, two of which happen to be relatively close in age with my two sons. So high-ho, high-ho, to Denver we must go.

(turn head sideways to view)

It sure was fun to visit with J, T, E, F, and C. By the end of our stay though, little A and his cousin F were ready to rip one another's heads off and sure tried hard to accomplish just that. But it was nice to see that little A has a counter-part in the energy department.

Ex-poo-losion

2009-10-07T05:09:00.000-07:00

One of the things I am so proud of Abrams for is his ability to poop. Our first son did not have this ability and we were constantly seeking out new ways to encourage him to do his business. Makes a big difference in the happiness of the child, but perhaps there are a few more diapers to change.

In Texas, I was holding Abrams in the Baby Bjorn and all of a sudden, there was some major rumbling coming from the Baby Bjorn. I thought little of it until I put my hand on Abrams' leg for some reason, only to find myself covered in "honey mustard". Yeah, probably not going to be eating that again, eh?!

The babers was covered in slime, the Bjorn was covered in slime, and soon, almost everything little Alma could step on would be covered in slime too! Hurray! And lucky me, little A's budding camera skills captured most of the ordeal on camera.

And speaking of great BM's, mother nature calls, or perhaps the baby cries...

Welcome to Paradise

2009-10-06T20:14:00.000-07:00

Well, one may not call Freeport, Texas paradise but there is a beach there and jellyfish do live in water as warm as a bathtub. And come on, its a beach.

Aunt Susannah and Uncle Nelson took us to the Gulf for a little swimming. Little A and his cousin 'Beks had a blast playing in the sand and 'swimming'. Abrams and his cousin Levi enjoyed sleeping in the back of the van and being eaten by flies. Susannah, my sister, and I made the most of feeding babies and standing in a tidal pool until we saw a dead fish head float by. Daddy A and Nelson bobbed about in the warm water hoping to catch a wave. They might still be out there if we didn't have a plane to catch--no waves at all!

Aside from the relaxing atmosphere of the beach and salty air, two things happened to make my heart race. 1st: little A tipped over on his boogy board and got lost in the murky waters of the Gulf coast for a few seconds. I imagined us never finding him again in that water, for the two seconds he was under, even though the water went up to my waste and Daddy pulled him out right away. I thought my boy would be terrified of the water and crying, but he came up sputtering and said: "that yucky water made bubbles in my tummy." Uh huh. I was so proud of him for getting back on the boogy board and hanging out in the water for another 40 minutes. Secondly, I got stung by a jelly fish. I was a little more wimpy than my son, I did not head back into the water.

We had a great time, and the waves were just the right size. It isn't often a night goes by that I do not dream about a tidal wave or major water catastrophe. The lack of waves was perfect for me.

I'm Batman!

2009-10-06T20:00:00.000-07:00

I have a favorite commercial in which the line "I'm Batman!" is the catch phrase. Pretty darn funny commercial, but obviously not out of context.

Anyway, you might wonder why this features in a blog post about my family trip to Texas. Easy. In Austin, Texas, there is a well-known bridge the is home to well over a million bats. By day, anyway, because at night, these bats take off, flying out of the bridge and swarming down the river in search of bugs. Talk about a natural wonder.

Our trip down to the Bat bridge was almost as frenzied as a million and one bats trying to make their way down the river all crammed together. Screaming baby wanting to eat, Daddy trying to find a parking spot, talking to car valet and on the phone all at once, and little Alma begging to see Batman at the top of his lungs. When we finally found a spot to park and made our way to the bridge, we decided to hang out under the bridge, daring the bats to shoot their guano on our heads. Problem was, the humans had made it their first; it smelled like major urine. Urine smell + little A playing chicken with bikers in the dark+ still hungry, now screaming baby= quick decision to head back to car after watching millions of bats head out to go 'grocery' shopping.

While we were in Austin, we were very lucky to stay at a friend's house. And lo, in their book shelf was the book Weird Texas. There are many weird things in Texas, but we just happened to read about this bat bridge and were in the right place at the right time. So thank you friends for letting us stay in your house, and for letting us read your book.

Pictures of bat outing will appear later, when I can sneak phone away from Daddy A.

Texas Redoux

2009-10-06T19:43:00.000-07:00

Our journey to Texas was many wonderful things all wrapped up in family, family, family.

(Little A and Aunt Kat)

It all started with a weekend of sporting fun. Not for me, mind you, but for Daddy and little A. Can you say BYU football? Astros Baseball game? Swimming in the pool? Scads of Aunts, Uncles, and cousins (And yes, I did say scads).Totally awesome!

(Photo courtesy of Little A)

Gpa G and Amelia

Kaylee

But it wasn't just all fun and games, Aunt Susannah and Tio Nelson blessed their baby boy Levi, taking advantage of the fifteen or so family members visiting in residence at Uncle Sam's. Uncle Nelson gave Levi a wonderful blessing, and little A gave cousin Rebekah a nice smack in the face, making for an eventful, if normal (for us) Sabbath day.

Silly Thomas and Peter

Pretty Suzanne and little Isaac

Thomas the Tinker

Fast Times at Clark-mont High

2009-10-06T19:29:00.000-07:00

Whoa dudes, life has been speeding by pretty fast here. I am going to do some updating on this blog-o for journalling purposes. Sometimes I lay awake at night with anxiety thinking about how the life my family is living is slipping away without me to copy it down. So, here I am to have at it. A whack of posts in one night, fittingly as husband is out of town and babies are in bed.

For starters:

The boys had their checkups today. Little A for 3 years and baby Abrams 3 months. Little A is 32 lbs (could have fooled me) and in the 50th percentiles for height and weight. He is doing all the things he should be doing and even pulled a complete Superman today when the nurse gave him his needle. Not even a flinch! Go little Man of Steel. When asked what he is going to be when he grows up, he doesn't beat around the bush: "Bigger!"

Abrams is 16 lbs 7 oz. and 26 inches long--in the 90's for percentages. But alas, his head is only in the 75th percentile. My boys and their tiny heads. But this little boy rolled over twice today and behaved well for the Doc. He loves to flirt and has a huge toothless grin. And boy, does this kid love to gab. Endless conversations about rugby and football!

Dear Carpet Cleaner

2009-09-01T21:33:00.000-07:00

I may not need you anymore. See, there is this little kitchen product called Baking Soda that can pretty much do anything you ask it to, except for maybe dance on the moon. I sprinkled a little (okay--A LOT) on my carpet, with the help of little A of course, and voila, barf smell has disappeared from house. Could not be happier. And not to mention $100 dollars better off.

J Clark

Spilled milk

2009-08-29T13:42:00.001-07:00

No, really, spilled milk is something to cry about. And I will tell you why: your house will smell like vomit and dirty diapers until the curddled crust is finally cleaned up.

Thursday night was a complete wash-out. Abrams cried all night long--4 hours straight. That is not like him, at least since we have been OD'ing him on baby Zantac, (I am exaggerating for those of you about to call Children Services). So you can imagine that anything remotely small would frazzle the nerves of an already frazzled mother. Here follows a great example.

Big A brings a tall glass of milk into the TV room and places it on the carpet.

J: Please don't put that milk there. If it spills it will ruin the carpet. You can't get that smell out.

A: I can do whatever I want (basically).

He does not move the milk from the carpet, takes one swig, then promptly forgets about milk. After 4 hours of screaming, baby is finally ready to calm down. I pick up a pillow and toss it on the couch.

Guess what? Pillow decides to bounce of couch and land...Where?! You guessed it! It GOT MILK!

Yep, milk spilled all over the carpet, a book, a towel, and the television clicker.

So, guess who is crying over spilled milk?

And yelling at her husband?

Nothing to Stress About

2009-08-22T17:16:00.000-07:00

Sometimes Abrams cries. And sometimes he cries some more. And then some more. I will not lie. It's hard to bare when the other child is pushing chairs across the house and climbing into cupboards and opening any closed box containing food. Yes little A, I know you're hungry, I get the point but you do not need to open that box of macaroni and scatter it across the floor to prove your point. Can't you hear this baby screaming?!

As I "calmly" strapped the baby into his car-seat and arranged everything to get into the car, I said "calmly" to little A:

M:"I am sorry for being a little short with you this morning. Sometimes Abrams' crying stresses me out."

A: "I'm stressed out too, Mommy."

Whoops, I better watch what I say. He's a little too young to send his blood pressure through the roof.

Bless This Mess

2009-08-10T21:35:00.000-07:00

At least I feel like my life is a mess right now. Okay, at least the house. You can tell right, by the lack of blog posting? Well, blogging is not the most important thing in a new mom's life, but recording the going's on of family is.

Alma:

You are talking more, but you have a very funny way of throwing the words of your sentences into random order.
You are coming out with your own thoughts, and not those that Mommy and Daddy have put in your head.
You are learning to use your body better: any equipment at the park is yours for the conquering.
You are learning to be a good friend to others
You are learning to be a good older brother
You can sing the entire song "I Am a Child of God"
You are always excited to say the prayer.
You are learning to be a good helper
You are a sports fanatic
You are very good at helping Mommy pick the beans in our garden
You love Superman
You love to learn about the scriptures and Jesus
You are unbelievably cute

Abrams:

You are 7 weeks old now.
You smiled all by yourself on your 7th Sunday
You can spit up like a pro, soaking many towels and burp cloths in one day
You slept from 10:30 pm to 5:30 am last night. I think I am still dreaming that one!
You are very alert
You can hold your head up very well when you are being held
You have GER just like your bro
You look like your bro's twin
You are such a sweet little man, we love you so!