Friday, May 28, 2010

Foodie Friday - Healthy Breakfast

It's been a crazy week, this first week of summer with all the kids at home, and I find myself trying to busy them in order to avoid the inevitable, "Maaaaa-maaaaaaa!  I am SO BORED"s but in doing so, I have neglected my normal upkeep of the house duties.  Turns out I do a hell of a lot each day.  Which means, after a week of attempting a summer activities routine, that I have a HUGE amount of catch up to do.

I do, however, recognize that it is Friday.  And I do have recipes (yes, that is plural!) for you today.  Without further adieu, bring on Foodie Friday!

Foodie Fridays by Ramblin Red

But, a recipe with no story isn't really a Ramblin' Red kinda thing, now is it?

Story first, food later.

So the other day I was asking what I should make for the next day's dinner, and Seth says, "We haven't done breakfast for dinner in a long time."

And we hadn't.  For a reason.  

Namely it is that I have come to the realization that while my activity level is high and I've lost not only weight but several inches upon maintaining my current poundage for some six months (which, by the way, how does one properly answer the question when someone says, "Hey, you look great, you've lost a bunch of weight, huh?" and the truth is that you're the same weight you've been but you have dropped a size in those same 6 months?) and while this is good and great, the fact remains that my diet is unchanged and thus I'm maintaining, and I'd really still like to lose another 25 lbs, and generally just take ownership of the whole shebang, food and exercise, in order to be a fit and healthy mama, like Jen is doing.  And Headless Mom.

(Disclaimer for all you who are about to say, "You're looking GREAT just. the. way. you. are!" : My BMI still registers me as "obese," and while I know that BMI alone places people with no body fat and obscene amounts of muscle mass - can you say body builders -  in this same category thus it is not a perfect measure, the truth is I weigh 25 lbs more than I did a few years back when my doctor told me I could stand to lose another 10 - so, I do not think I'm setting the bar too terribly high, thankyouverymuch :) )  

Aaaaaaaaaaannd our breakfast for dinner usually includes BACON, and eggs FRIED in BACON GREASE, and biscuits/gravy OR pancakes, and occasionally potatoes that are, uhm, FRIED.

So ya see where I was a little hesitant, now, right?

Plus I'm RUNNING a 10K ON MONDAY and I'd really like to detox and get in some optimum nutrition before hand.

After some consideration, I came up with a pretty darned good alternative, and this was affirmed by my children and husband.


I made whole wheat pancakes (mixed with apple sauce instead of oil) served with non-fat vanilla yogurt and frozen blueberries (warmed in the microwave), lean (1 g fat per slice) ham slices, and a 2 egg omelet with spinach, onion, and tomatoes.

I found this lovely recipe for the pancakes.  Only edits - I omitted the cinnamon (was after a "normal pancake taste), halved the "mix" (which was just shy of 2 cups), doubled the eggs/milk/applesauce, and added a hefty pouring of vanilla (2 1/2 tsp-ish?).  They were SCRUMPTIOUS!  I topped with my FAVORITE yogurt in the whole wide world: Cascade Fresh Vanilla, and heated up the remnants of a bag of frozen blueberries, pouring on top with their juices.  Didn't even miss the maple syrup and butter (which is what my fam had theirs with).

For my* omelet, I beat 2 eggs together in a bowl.  Chopped 1/2 C-ish of spinach, diced 1/2 a roma tomato, and made one paper thin slice of sweet onion, then chopped it up.  Spray 10 inch skillet with cooking spray and heat to medium, pour eggs into pan, place veggies on one half of egg circle.  When egg firms up fold empty half over the veggies, making a semi-circle.  Press down on folded omelet with spatula for about a minute, to seal it up.  Flip over and cook until eggs are firm.

* Yes, MY omelet.  I made poached eggs for the rest of the fam since they are picky about eggs being mixed with other stuff.

I'm not gonna lie, I'm a cheese and hollandaise sauce kinda gal with my omelets, so I was missing some of the "goo" factor, but I just shook on some tabasco and was pleased as pie.

Now, some people who are die-hards about fat and diets say that my whole egg content of this meal made it too fatty, but I don't think fat is BAD or EVIL and knowing that the fat content of my day had been nil thus far, I had no problem consuming it!


© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Penetrating Through the Shadows

Some people think that saying or writing the negative things we think just lends credence to irrational fears, giving them, the fears, the power to cripple oneself, sort of a reverse affirmation if you will.

And I used to agree with them.

But over the past year, so many fears and doubts have lurked in the back of my mind, all ambiguous and shadowy, intangible and so difficult to ascertain just what it is that is robbing my joy that I don't really know what I'm afraid of, just that there is a general sense of trepidation as mental bogeymen hedge about furtively in the depths of my soul.

They're just shadows, too, these bogeymen.

Some are completely warped, the sort that, in the room of a child who is afraid of the dark let's say, appear to be gremlins or hobgoblins and have the ability to not only paralyze a child with fear but also bring with them the gift of wakeful insomnia.  Given some time, explorations [often made by a loving parent], and a flip of the light-switch, these shadows are the ones that are eventually revealed as being the result of the neighbor's misshapen tree outside the bedroom window, blowing in a storm.  Nothing a rational person would fear.

Others may have a basis in reality, but are grossly exaggerated, as most actual shadows are.  For instance, my personal shadow, while based on my body, will at times - depending on the angle of the sun, time of day, etc. - illustrates me as having legs a mile long, with a teensy, tiny little head, and skinny arms that extend forever.  Clearly not a true picture of my actual form!

Anyways, sometimes identifying the shadows, speaking them and what you're feeling, is the first step to illumination and seeing them for what they really are.

[whew - this is turning into a lengthy preamble - who's still with me?]

All of this to say that yesterday, I went running for the first time since Thursday [on account of I had some knee pain last week and was trying to rest it a bit].  My knees felt great (Praise GOD!), I was feeling good, hit my mile right at 10:02 [which is not my fastest but is a good comfortable pace for me] and kept going.

Until about 1.5 miles.

Suddenly my legs were tight, my lungs constricting, my body burning with fatigue.  Out came the bogeymen, their shadowy appendages poking at my heart but never fully revealing themselves.  [in less flowery vernacular, and more concisely put - my stress level had a detrimental impact on my performance - but that is too simple and not rambly enough for this blog, eh?  Also?  You don't say? Stress can kill performance, well, how about that!]

So I walked.

But I didn't walk in defeat.  I was in tears, and some of the fears were really getting me.

You're not going to make it at Boulder.  All this hype, all this work for a YEAR and you are going to let your fears get you and paralyze you.

I cried out, like a child afraid of the dark, for my Father.  My Heavenly Father.  I begged Him to come into the dark, shadow-filled recesses of my mind and flood His light into the space - so that the cause of the shadows could be exposed, and I could see the hobgoblins for the trees they may have been.

I realized that as some of the fears shifted from the shadows into an actual form, that is a thought, that these thoughts were all in the 2nd person - YOU statements, not I statements.


And this is where I hesitate - as I always get self-conscious talking about spiritual warfare and "voices" having worked with people who audibly heard voices in their heads.  The need to disclaim "This is different," sits within me.

In the negative inner dialogs of my mind, I have plenty of I statements, more than I'd care to admit, so this is not just an observation of mental semantics, a rationalization made of split hairs.  No, as I realized this, I felt as if someone or something was feeding me these thoughts.

From the beginning of this journey, I have desired my running accomplishments to be a testament to God's redemptive work in my body, a way to open the door to talk about the greater works He has done in my whole life.  I didn't want the glory, but for God to have it, as He deserves it.  And yet, here was this voice, making it all about me, and what I could or couldn't do.

Meanwhile, my Father did as asked of Him and put His Word upon my heart: cliché as it may sound, scenes from David and Goliath flashed in my mind.

In regards to the voice of negativity, I was reminded of Saul telling David that he shouldn't even think of trying to take the giant down.  Also?  That I CAN run 6.2 miles, because I did it about a month ago.  And I will again, because I hadn't even made it for a full 3 miles before I ran my 5k.

Finally, regarding who gets credit - David's confidence in the Lord and words to Goliath just before he accomplished the most widely known TKO of history rang in my ears:

"... but I come to you in the name of the Lord of Heaven’s Armies—the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. Today the Lord will conquer you... and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel!  And everyone assembled here will know that the Lord rescues his people, but not with sword and spear. This is the Lord’s battle, and he will give you to us!”
There are half a dozen other bogeymen crouching in my mind's eye that I must shed some light on - so if I'm on the quiet side, just know that I'm working through some things.
© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Because apparently Stephen King's been giving my electronics ideas

Some people might chalk it up to Murphy's Law.


Others might call it karma, or some other energy exchange fou-fou concept.


But I am starting to think my electronics are onto me, sorta á la Maximum Overdrive - you know, that freaky movie where the appliances and machines become homicidal freaks of nature, rather, man-made creation?


But in my parallel warp-time world, the items are going suicidal - as in they, themselves are going kaput.


Yes, I, who have no money with which to replace the following items, am now the proud owner of;



  • one laptop which is resting in cyber peace.  At least the hard drive wasn't dead
  • a 12 y/o crockpot (wedding gift) whose lid all of a sudden fissured and threatens to quit cooking my yummy meals of convenience with all of its steamy goodness Any. Day. Now!  Whatever will I do when I want to make shredded beef burritos without baking my roast in the oven on a stifling hot summer day?!?
  • a 2 y/o printer that has irrevocably decided it shan't feed paper without jamming and/or shredding said paper (this is after discovering that my BIL was indeed correct in that something probably fell into the printer's crevices - hello, little memory card in a case!  Removal of said foreign object did not, however, alleviate the problem).

And perhaps the saddest of them all; 

  • a 4 y/o digital camera whose LCD screen is giving me horizontal stripes of impending death anytime I power it on.  And it is SUMMER, when photo ops abound!

I know that to many people in our country, let alone the poor underdeveloped nations of the world, I sound like a spoiled brat, but these things matter to me.  They get/got regular use from me and now that use is dead/about to be dead and I have no way to replace them, let alone figure out how to balance my budget and meet all of our larger, more pressing obligations on a regular, consistent basis.

Money sucks....


It makes us greedy in its presence and needy in its absence.  


I hate being either.

© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Friday, May 21, 2010

End of this week = beginning of summer

Hi!  I'm still here - returning from my little MIA experience known as The Last Week of School!

Today marks the last morning that I have to bark orders like a drill sergeant to my children, who clearly need routine yet somehow seem to forget each morning that every day for the past 9 mos we have eaten breakfast, dressed, packed lunches, combed hair, grabbed backpacks, etc.  Sort of like their after school routine: 
  • Kids come home
  • Kids throw coats, jackets backpacks on the floor
  • I say, "Pick those up..." 
  • I repeat, incrementally raising the volume each time
  • I max out the volume with the final say-so, "NOW!"
  • Kids scurry to finally put their stuff up where it belongs
  • Kids snack, then say, "What can we DO???" which is code for "Can I play a video/computer game?"
  • Mom says, "Uh, you can empty the dishwasher, as you do Every. Single. Day."
  • Kids groan and moan, roll their eyes and occasionally throw in a tantrum or some other form of disrespect

EVERY.  DAY.  They have chores, and every day they magically seem to forget.  Do they even teach pattern recognition at the schools these days?  Really.

It's been a LONG week, an INSANE week full of tween emotions (After a week of being told I was SO MEAN, among other hateful things, I actually read Mir's letter to her daughter to Kelsey, after having read it while she was at school and bawling my eyes out in agreement, in conclusion asking her, "Hmmm, what kind of connections* are you making to that story?  To which she grumbled, "My attitude...") and end of the school year activities.  Oh, and, we're still treading water trying to keep our finances afloat.  Funny how that doesn't just abate when all other areas of life are crazy.

* this is a term they use in school re: reading comprehension and applications to similar life experiences they have had.

And I've been in a funk.  Once again, the ever pretty Mir had a parallel experience up in another poignantly written post, especially touching my already bruised psyche with these lines:
There is a certain arrogance in being unhappy when leading what is fundamentally a good and blessed and lucky life, isn’t there? I mean, that’s not to say that my (or your) problems aren’t real and challenging, just that the Right and Mature thing to do, after a while, is to say to yourself, “Self, time to suck it up and deal.” Lord knows I say this to my kids often enough; I should take my own advice.
Touché.

Part of my funk has been that now that I finally want "almost all the things I never wanted(that is a reference to my sweet friend Huckdoll, who is also on the formerly WOHM now SAHM path that I'm on and discovering along the way how sweet our families really are), now it is threatened with financial insecurity.  While we are upside down in our budget with my medical expenses, we are still upside down without them.  Which is pretty hard to figure out seeing as when we decided to take the plunge to have Christopher and me stay at home, there was enough money.  But now there isn't.  So we need more income.

Which was bringing me to the conclusion that I needed to find a job - maybe not a daytime job as childcare would ruin us even if I was working.  But even a night job is time away from Seth and we've really fought to get to where we are in our relationship - in other words, this is not something I really wanted either.  I've been praying hard about this.

I tried lia sophia.  And thought it wasn't working out, so hadn't done much with it.

Yesterday at our final hurrah for our cub scout pack, one of the moms, also a bus-stop mom, asked me if I was still selling jewelry.

I told her it was slow and not so much.

Later she invited me to a Pampered Chef party.

I told her I could come but probably wouldn't be able to buy anything.

She approached me again later in the night, asking if I had inventory in my jewelry.  There was this one necklace.

I told her I was still active as an advisor, just not for long - that I had to have a show soon to remain active.  She says, "Well I'll do it!"

How's that for an answer?

Also, for my readers who are afar - I can totally do catalog/online shows.  Our jewelry is fabulous and June's special is buy any two items at regular price get up to four necklaces at half price!  Our necklaces are often our pricier items, so this is a great opportunity to stock up on affordable gifts for birthdays, Christmas, or just to enhance your own jewelry wardrobe.  E-mail me today if you're interested in helping me out!



© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Saturday, May 15, 2010

T - 16 days (and roughly 2.5 hrs)

The past two days I have been amazed at my body.

Yesterday I ran a mile in 9:16, hit 2 miles at 20:26, and had run a full 5k in 34:36.  And, psst...I walked a block of it, which means, I could do better still!  This is a huge victory for me in that it was my first sub-10 minute mile EVER, AND it was nearly 10 minutes off my 5k time in October.

This morning, I only ran a mile, but did it in 9:02!!!!

Recently I was discouraged about Bolder Boulder, thinking I wouldn't be able to run in the 68 minute heats (and I'm not, because I didn't run a pre-qualifier) simply because 68 minutes seemed too hard.  Yes, I've grown weary of "I just want to finish," and have started to replace it with, "I'd like to finish in :insert minutes and seconds:."  But, good news, if I double my length at the same pace as above, it is RIGHTTHERE.  SOCLOSE.  And I'm running that pace with a stroller and two dogs pulling me every which way, to which my stabilization muscles have said, "Uhm, Hell-O!"  In other words, I'm pretty confident that I have this in the bag!  Squeee!!!!

I've been watching this regularly, to get myself psyched up, to be able to visualize in my head as I'm running my loops at home.


I picked up my packet the other day - have my shirt, time tag, etc.  

May 31, 2010.  8:02:40am is my start time.  Shooting for finishing around 9:11ish.  And feel triumphant as I enter that stadium that not only did God bring me back last year, but He's strengthened me into an athlete along the way!

© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Friday, May 14, 2010

Foodie Friday - Super Duper Soft Whole Wheat Bread

Foodie Fridays by Ramblin Red

Ok, y'all, so I've been making homemade bread in lieu of storebought for several months now, right?

And while the kids and the hubs loved it with dinner, they've proven not to be so fond of it for their lunch sandwiches.

Too dense, too chewy, too whatever.  Every recipe it was something else.

Until this one.  

It is seriously like Orowheat (my favoritest bread from the store) has taken residence in my kitchen!

Today I sent Seth off to work with PB&J on this bread.  He devoured it.  For breakfast....  As we texted, it became clear that he was in love with this bread more than I am.  I told him I could bring him another sandwich, and he was all YES!!!! PLEEEEEEAAAAASE!!!!  

That's success in my book.

Now, because I was leery about the potential, I halved the original recipe (which made for some weird measurements - I subbed a tsp for anything that said 1/4 TBS because that is one spoon I don't have!), and added a couple things for a trial run.

Dear readers, you HAVE to try this.  (Barring any gluten-free-ers, as it actually calls for gluten) It is THAT good.

Without further ado, my edited rendition:
3 1/2 C whole wheat flour (I especially like Hodgson Mill, but more often than not it is just plain Kroger brand)
1/3 C gluten
1 Tbs + 1 tsp yeast (great link about different yeasts here)
2 1/2 C hot water (120 degrees F)
1 Tbs salt
1/3 C oil
1/3 C honey
1 1/2Tbs lemon juice
3 Tbs milk
2 1/2 C additional flour (original recipe calls for more WW, but I used white bread flour)

Preheat oven to 350.  Add first 3 ingredients, mix.  Mix in water (I used my standing mixer with kneading hooks) and mix 1 minute, make sure everything is well incorporated.  Let dough rest 10 minutes.  Meanwhile add salt, oil, honey, lemon juice and milk in small bowl.  Add to dough and beat 1 minute, again incorporating the mixtures well.  Add remaining flour 1/2 cup at a time and mix 6-10 minutes.

Cover, and let rise in warm area for 1 hr.  Rise may not be the typical "til doubled," but that is ok.  Divide dough in half and place into 2 oiled loaf pans.  Cover, let rise until dough reaches tops of pans.  

Bake in oven for 25-30 minutes.  (Make sure rack is in the middle, because the bread rises a bunch in the oven!)

Remove, brush tops with melted butter, and remove loaves from the pans (or else you will have soggy loaves).  Let cool on wire racks.


Enjoy!

(I will have pictures up this afternoon/evening as I am baking some more up right now!)


Glistening after their butter bath, these loaves didn't rise in the oven as much as the first batch, but they are still soft and yummy!
© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Thursday, May 13, 2010

The One Where I Ask You All to Pray

Last month, we got caught up.

And we'd submitted an application for a loan modification through our mortgage company when it became all too clear that our expenses exceeded our income, and basically that Something[s].HAS.to.give. in order to KEEP up.

Last Monday, I called, after waiting a week longer than initially told it would take to process, and discovered that they'd denied our request for a loan modification.

Rationale?

"Your expenses exceed your income."

Well, uh, DUH!!!!!!!!  Isn't that kind of the point?  I mean, we were doing just fine and then BAM!  Here's $20k in medical debt you must pay NOW.  Additionally, looking at the criteria on both the lender's site and the government's, we went thru and went:

  • occupy the property - check
  • property less than [roughly]3/4 of a million - check, let's all say STARTER. HOME.
  • having trouble paying mortgage - uh, triple check (by that I mean we reduced income with me staying home, increased expenses by adding a family member, AND then the medical stuff)
  • still have verifiable income - check, hubby's been in the same place for just shy of 10 years

Clearly I missed something, as I'd expected something along the lines of them calling me, "Ding, Ding, Ding, You're a WINNER!  You loan has just been modified such that you will be paying on it FOR. EVER, BUT your payments will be teensy, tiny, hooray!"

So I began to question, in the same chilly but civil, bordering on badgering manner that used to make my mother always sigh in defeat, "You should be a lawyer when you grow up."

At that the Indian man on the phone, presumably in the wee hours of his morning, struggled and stammered in an accent I felt I had to cut through with a machete just to comprehend the words spoken, let alone their meaning.

"I, uh, see your medical expenses are verry high - ees eet posseeble that you can lower your premium to say, $300 a month?"

And that's when I knew for a fact that this dude was outsourced, because there isn't a health plan in America that will cover a couple with dependents for $300/month.  Also, need I say it again?  Duh!  Did these people even read my cover letter that explained the whole origination of our hardship?

The call went on, with Abu (seriously, I mean no disrespect for the Indian people - my beef is primarily with the corporations who outsource their customer service agents, disregarding the fact that they communicate OVER THE PHONE and thus comprehensible SPOKEN English is of utmost importance for efficiency and consumer satisfaction) speaking fast and furiously in that ridiculously thick accent, my head was spinning, only grasping about every third word when I heard him say, "Short sale."

Oh, you've got to be kidding me.

See, our neighborhood has DROPPED SIGNIFICANTLY in property values, and foreclosures abound in our subdivision.  An attempt to short sale our house is nothing but a guaranteed road to foreclosure, which, uh is precisely what we're trying to avoid.

So, I ended the call - as it was going nowhere.  And I called a man from our church who just happens to work for a credit counseling/debt negotiating type of company.  Yes, I know - we should have called him earlier, but pride and this desire to make this work on my own kept me from it for months.


We met last week and are meeting again tonight.

In paying bills today, I found a way to decrease our cell phone bill $45/month - so I did.  And was feeling pretty good about it.

When the doorbell rang.

And I was served with a summons from one of the collection companies that had been hired by the medical imaging group and ER doc's clinic who treated me last year.

What are we going to do???


And how much worse is it going to get?


I am trying not to freak out here and let my fears grab a hold of me.

I'm trying to keep perspective.
Dear friends, don’t be afraid of those who want to kill your body; they cannot do any more to you after that. But I’ll tell you whom to fear. Fear God, who has the power to kill you and then throw you into hell. Yes, he’s the one to fear.
After all, we're talking money here, not my actual life.  And even if it were that they're after, that's not the worst thing, is it?

So friends, I just ask that you'll pray - pray for us to really see what we need to give up and areas we need to sacrifice/be wiser about, and that God will continually work all things out for the good.

He has so far.

© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

A Most Triumphant Tuesday

At this time last year, this post is going to press at 11:19pm, I had already been escorted via ambulance, without a family member or support person, from an urgent care center to my hospital's ER, had already been x-rayed, and stuck with numerous needles, and was only just beginning a journey I'd not planned on, nor knew just where it would take me.  Sometime after 11 that night, I was going in for my first CT scan - to determine just how bad the infection, which had perforated my lung and seeped into my chest cavity, was.

Or so we thought.

As it would turn out, the initial prognosis would not be accurate, and provided a false hope, the first of many to come, that a chest tube would sufficiently drain the infection from my chest cavity and the antibiotics would work on the infection in my lungs.

I was just 16 days post-partum, and while at times I was delirious with fever and pain, somehow I was able to remain cogently focused on what needed to happen for not only me but our whole family to get through this;
...Oh, dear God, this angel in my arms just got to meet me, and the other two still have so much mothering needed - surely they need me more than You need me!  And Seth's faith, it's still in process and I fear if I were to pass that he would crumble.  Please spare me and heal me so that I can do your will with my family and reflect your glory to everyone with whom I interact!


So, once that primary business was attended to, then it was:
...I need to advocate for my baby's well-being, for me to continue to nurse him I need to receive meds that are compatible with breast-feeding...
I need my breast pump, and there are formula samples at home to help with the baby's immediate food needs...
Does this hospital have those fabulous breast-feeding gowns that the sister hospital, where I'd had Christopher, did?  If not, I need some nursing jammies from home...
We need people - family, neighbors, those from our church circles -  to help with the two older children getting to school and maintaining normalcy...
We need to contact our insurance broker, as our new plan was just days from kicking in...
Seth needs to be able to work, having just had some unpaid leave for Christopher's birth, we couldn't afford him to miss more...

My blackberry was heavily used while I was in the hospital.  I alerted my online friends from the past 9 years to what was unfolding via Facebook on it.  I e-mailed our church's list-serve with updates on it, made phone calls, etc. to deal with the details that floated through my head.  Technology is a wonderful asset and I will never take it for granted.

But...this is where this post is misguided and turning into something I hadn't intended.

I don't intend to relive those long days, as someone who is haunted by them, with this post.  I've already done that here, in case you are so inclined now that I've piqued the interest of those who do not know the story.


Rather, I meant to say that today was a triumph and a day of countless gratitudes.  Beginning with hearing this song first thing this morning, as I took the kids to school.


I know the initial part of the song is about a mother losing her child, but as I heard these lines;




To think that providence would
Take a child from his mother while she prays
Is appalling. 


I couldn't help but think that we were so close to the situation being reversed, to my infant son never getting to know his mother, who loved him and prayed for him while she knit him together in the womb.  I didn't fully realize just how close I was until this winter when I heard about a woman that some church friends of ours knew, exact same age and circumstance as me, who'd gone septic from her pneumonia and died from lesions the sepsis caused on her brain.  And tears formed in my eyes as I sang along with the chorus:

This is what it means to be held. 

How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life 
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved. 
And to know that the promise was 
When everything fell we'd be held. 


God held me, in the shelter of his unfailing arms, as everything that had been a constant in my life suddenly became tenuous and unknown.

He held my husband and my children, granting them peace and assurance that I couldn't.

He held my baby boy through the arms of all his grandparents and the many surrogate "aunts" that emerged from our church body so that he was always comforted with a physical touch of love, clean outfits, dry diapers and soothing movements when tubes and exhaustion tied my hands from providing these to him.

He whispered encouragements into my ear as His lovingkindness inspired the visitors from our church who sat with me.  One of these moments I treasure the most came from an older woman from church who, after I'd confided that I felt weak in my faith because I was finding it difficult to count all the trials as joy, responded that even Jesus, God himself in the flesh, knowing all things, had asked our Heavenly Father to change his circumstances if it were in His will.

He provided [and continues to do so] for us financially during the resulting financial maelstrom.

I could tell of these things forever, in the many ways that my Heavenly Father has held me during a hellacious year, but it is getting late.  Suffice to say that in some ways I'm still being held by Him, and in others, I've grown enough to let go and, as His agent, seek others who need holding - yet another blessing, because without this experience I wouldn't be able to minister to those in similar situations.

I'm thankful that a year later, the only lasting effects are felt in the occasional itches of my incision scars and our pocketbook.  The first is SO minor, right?  And the second is going to be ok...just need to allow time and faith to do their work daily.

I am alive.  And beyond that, I am fit and healthy, and can hold a normal lung capacity's worth of air on an inspirometer with ease, unlike the 1/4 capacity it pained me to achieve a year ago.

I've had 365 tomorrows in which to love my husband and mother my 3 wonderful children, and countless more to come.

I have family who love me unconditionally.  Family determined by the bonds of blood, marriage, and the common threads of faith.

I received notice that my Bolder Boulder packet is ready for me to pick up tomorrow.  It is happening.  I am running my first 10k (on record - I ran one on my own a couple of weeks ago just to prove to myself I could) on Memorial Day - in celebration of the anniversary of me being released from the hospital.

And my God has helped me and held me in order to get here the whole way long.

How's that for triumphant?







© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Sunday, May 9, 2010

My Next Thirty Years

Sorry, Tim, just had to use that title.

Today marked the end of my first thirty years and the commencement of my thirty-first year, and all week long I've been contemplating what I want the rest of my life to look like.  Or, at least the next big chunk of it anyway.

I decided to make this a 30 in 30 type of post to try and limit my tendency to verbosity - we'll see how that goes.

Things I'd like to become, do or see in the next 30 years:

  1. A woman who daily walks a purposeful, intentional path with God, and not remain this girl who seeks God when she remembers to pencil Him in
  2. Debt-free
  3. A woman who healthily balances the quest for fitness with sound nutrition, plenty of exercise, and the ability to love what still hangs on her hips/thighs/etc. so that her daughter has a good example of how to love our bodies
  4. With my husband, a marriage mentor for younger couples we encounter
  5. A woman distinguished by the presence of fruits of the Spirit in her life, rather than the lack of them
  6. Run a half-marathon
  7. Run a marathon
  8. Climb at least one fourteener a year with my husband, and later, with the kids as well.
  9. Climb Mt. Rainier, with my husband, and see the majesty of a 14'er that claims the most prominence in the lower 48 states, despite Seth's claims that all mountains in WA are "hills."
  10. Visit all of the National Parks in CO 
  11. Consume less
  12. Strive for a more sustainable, organic lifestyle
  13. And become a gardening pro
  14. Who knows [and has the equipment] how to can and preserve the fruits of my labors
  15. Finish my kids' scrapbooks
  16. Write a book
  17. And have it published
  18. Buy a good camera
  19. And take a photography class
  20. Read all the way through the Bible - several times, hopefully
  21. And really comprehend and embrace what God is trying to say to us in His holy Word
  22. Then act upon it, regularly - see #1
  23. Learn from my mistakes
  24. And allow my children to make their own, so that they can have the treasure of learning their lessons each mistake presents them
  25.  Adhere to monthly date nights with my husband - no matter what
  26. To stretch myself in all areas, as a wife and mother, a friend, neighbor, employee[?], student [of life], and grow continually
  27. Renew our vows
  28. See others through the eyes of God, for the value that He has given them, not through my judgments, societal merits, etc.
  29. Give more, take less
  30. Give instruction and example well enough to my children that they will always love the Lord and seek Him in their own lives

It's definitely not ALL I hope to accomplish in life, but it's a rather tall order, I'd say.
© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Friday, May 7, 2010

Foodie Friday - Orange Chicken

Foodie Fridays by Ramblin Red

Hi all, I have a recipe after a long hiatus!

Melissa d'Arabian of the Food Network may have her fancy schmancy 4-step chicken, but I have my own!

I actually found this coated chicken recipe in a Taste of Home cookbook several years ago, where the chicken was dressed up with cheese, ham and mushrooms, sorta cordon bleu style.  I loved the taste of the base of this chicken dish so well, that it has become my staple recipe for chicken parmesan and several other chicken dishes.

Awhile back I wanted orange chicken, but Asian recipes are not my forte and always leave me with a big fail at the end, so I thought, What if I use my base chicken recipe for the crunch and add an orange glaze to it?  It wouldn't be Asian per se, but would have the crunch and tang I was after.


And so it came to pass that the following recipe was born:

4 boneless skinless chicken breasts (pounded thin and trimmed of fat)
1 egg lightly beaten
1 cub crushed Ritz crackers (Ritz is the key here as Townhouse crackers do not provide the same effect despite being similar products!)
3/4 tsp lemon pepper seasoning*
2 tbs oil (EVOO or canola depending on taste preferences)

1/4C orange juice CONCENTRATE
1/4 C honey
2tbs soy sauce
2tbs lemon juice
2tbs brown sugar
ginger, garlic, to taste **

1. Dip chicken in egg
2. Combine lemon pepper and crackers; coat chicken in mixture while oil heats in skillet
3.  Over medium-high heat, fry chicken, 4-5 minutes on each side or until done
4.  Combine all glaze ingredients in saucepan and heat, stirring well, until just boiling, remove from heat.
5.  Serve chicken with glaze spooned on top

* this is the variable for different recipes - the basic seasoning is salt here, but when I do parm chicken, I eliminate salt and add grated parmesan cheese and add italian seasonings, when I do herbed chicken, I use 1 tsp ranch dressing powder, etc.


** I realize this is kind of a cop out, but the ginger and garlic were powdered and I didn't measure them out!

I served it with couscous, broccoli (which tasted great with the glaze too, btw!) and cranberry sauce with mandarin oranges.  YUM!  Yes, there is a stray cheerio, ahem, kids!, on the table.  Pay no attention to it.

Best thing about this recipe?  It disappears just about as quickly as it is prepared!  That's what I'm talking about!

Now, what have YOU been cooking?

© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Thursday, May 6, 2010

I'm pretty sure these two came from the same zygote

For those of you who need a reproductive health refresher:
zygote:   zy·gote (zī'gōt')

noun
1. The single cell that results from fertilization of an ovum by a sperm. After dividing several times, it implants in the uterus. It continues to divide, producing more cells and passing through the stages ofembryo and fetus.
So, my title statement about my boys...yeah...I'm pretty sure that the zygote split, as in identical twins...They just happened to be born 6 years apart.

My reasons for thinking this are as follows:

Monday, while waiting at the kids' school to pick them up and whisk Kelsey away to Girl Scouts, another mother, to whom I'd not yet been introduced, walks up to me, Christopher perched on my hip, and says, nodding in the baby's direction, "He has to be Colton's brother, right?"

Startled, and somewhat dismayed, I mean, I know they look a lot alike, but for some random person [who apparently knew Colton enough] to just ID us as related?!?

"Why yes, he is," I replied, and conversation ensued as to how she knew Colton from volunteering in the class, in which her son was a student as well.

But don't just take that experience, and my wordy wordy words for it, take a look for yourself.  And see if you can tell me who's who?

1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.

Family has an unfair advantage with respect to the background items and the dating they provide!

Happy guessing!
© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

One Year With You

My overdue 1st birthday letter to Christopher.

Dear Baby Christopher,
I've started and stopped this letter so many times.  There's so much to say.  My heart overflows.
While you were still just a prayer in my heart and had yet to take root in my womb, I knew you would change my life.
Your sister had...your brother had...I knew you would change me too.
What I didn't know is how you would change their lives.  I mean, it's granted that the addition of a family member changes the dynamics for everyone...
But they got more than a new brother out of the deal - they got a new Mama and Daddy too.  And your impending presence spurred on these changes that took place within us.  Without you, who knows?  I could still be the shrewish mother prone to emotional outbursts at the drop of a hat, and your father could still be the insecure man striving to keep up with the Joneses that he was.
Taking our family from 4 to 5 was a giant leap of faith for us.
It meant I had to quit finding my identity in my accomplishments in the career world and start finding my identity in the Lord and His purpose for me.
It meant prioritizing what was of utmost importance - our family, you kids - and trusting that God would honor those priorities with His Providence.
It meant letting go of what I'd envisioned my life looking like and [Carrie Underwood reference in 3..2..1] letting God take the wheel and drive my life, our lives.
While a mother doesn't have favorites among her children, they do each lay claim to unique niches in her heart, solely for them to possess.
You, my dear boy, are the embodiment of faith and God's promise [and fulfillment] of restoration to me.  You were borne out of the restoration God worked in my relationship with your Daddy, conceived in our re-commitment to the Lord and renewed love for each other.  That alone makes you special to me.
But then there's you.  The reason for your being is endearing enough, but your actual being, your essence...personality...whatever you wish to call it... those things that make you you... I treasure them just as much, if not more in my mother's heart.
You have, since birth, had the most expressive face of the three of you kids.  It's your eyebrows.  You furrow and raise them so adeptly that one need not see the rest of your face to know what emotion you're currently wearing, but add them to your soul-gazing eyes, only to dress your face with that ever changing wardrobe of smiles, grins, frowns and everything in-between, and you have a very telling visage.
You are intuitive, even at this young age, and seem to know that as my last baby, I need you to stay little, to cuddle lots, and generally be content.  In all seriousness, you are a peanut (just like your brother!) you do love to snuggle, a trait which I am all to happy to oblige, and you have been a very easy baby.
Maybe it's because you have two older siblings, or maybe you're just brilliant (methinks a bit of both), but you seem to already play with other children, as opposed to the commonly seen playing among other children type of play early toddlers embrace.
Your primal glee smile, the one with the mega wattage, is a sight I never grow weary of - even if it is while you race up the stairs after I've told you no a hundred times.  I remember Kelsey smiling this way, but Colton never really did - he always had a gleam in his eyes when happy that never quite made its way to his lips - so I'm glad to see the return of a smile that lights a room up in you.
I love watching you learn new things - like connecting the dots that an up and down motion of the wrist makes people smile, wave back and talk all sorts of nonsense to you, except when you do it to me at 5:00am in my bed, as you've done the past two mornings.
You love animals.  LOVE them, and you have a special animal sound when you see anything furry or feathered - though I think it is an attempted bark [i.e. woof woof] it comes out as 'who who,' and is generally chorded such that I begin to sing the theme song* from CSI.  Every.  Time.
These things that make you you, son, are just the beginning.  Your list of you things will grow as you get older and acquire more proprietary characteristics, and I can't wait to get to know each and every one of them.
Happy first year, baby.
Love, 
Mama
* I'm well aware that the Who would probably cringe at me identifying their song as "the theme song from CSI" as it's raison d'être, that the song existed long before the show; however, my son probably will not make this distinction if he ever reads this letter in the future.
© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Monday, May 3, 2010

Not Me Monday - Couples Retreat



This one is gonna be good - it has been accumulating simmering.

Two weeks ago, on our couples retreat, I did NOT forget to bring my breast pump.  I had planned this trip for months, I surely wouldn't have forgotten something as vital as that, as comfort, on a getaway weekend no less, is something of importance to me!  And I did NOT remember that I'd left said pump on the kitchen counter while just mere blocks away, and still opt to not go back for it, thinking, I'm only nursing Christopher before naps and bed anyway.  Production is slowing.  I'll be FINE.  Yeah, because if I HAD forgotten my pump, those would have been some famous last words as I did NOT wake at o'dark-thirty each morning when I could have been luxuriating in unadulterated sleep since we were sans kids.  Because none of that happened, I did NOT have rock hard boobs all weekend, I did NOT have to go painfully and manually express milk in the shower a couple of times per day, and my husband did NOT make crude jokes about going on a mission to find a calf elk to relieve me.  Whoopsies!

I did NOT forget my camera.  Or maybe just to put working batteries in my camera prior to leaving.  See above about planning the trip for months and getting all the details.  I surely wouldn't have missed such an important one as this that I had to go spend an arm and a leg in the YMCA gift shop for batteries.  Not me!

My husband, a couple of elders and I did NOT speak in Song of Solomon code and giggle like junior high kids who were talking about S-E-X at the breakfast table.  Because we're mature and this was a church retreat!  And during the same discussions, my husband did NOT say, repeatedly, that the rooms were quite quiet, you couldn't hear a thing, they were well insulated, etc. as a veiled way of saying, "I got lucky with my wife last night."  Because he has more tact than that, right?  And I certainly did NOT jerk that veil off of what he was getting at by furiously whispering, "You keep saying that and people are going to KNOW!" only to realize that a few of our friends were.  RIGHT. THERE.  Because I know how to be discreet.  And I did NOT start blushing, a deep red blush similar to the one I wore the morning of our honeymoon when I heard the baby next door crying and realized that the thin walls were how the other guests had identified us as honeymooners at breakfast, at this.  Because I believe strongly in talking openly and honestly about the beauty of sex within marriage and if people know we do it then they know we have a close relationship and there's nothing to be ashamed/embarrassed of, right?  Seth did NOT try to back pedal and say something like, "I was just saying I was glad I didn't have to hear I's bathroom visits," to which I's wife did NOT reply, "Too late, I saw how you looked at her!"  Because, again, it was a couples retreat, what did people think we were going to do?!?  No kids, focusing on your marriage, being in God's beautiful creation...hmmmm, two guesses?  LOL.


I did NOT instruct an elder to give his wife a cat-call when she bent over to tie her shoes before our hike together, having just been in a session where we'd talked about emotional needs, two of them being admiration and an attractive spouse.  She did NOT get all mock-indignant with me, and we did NOT laugh our hineys off.  Because 1.) he's smart enough to do that on his own, and 2.) Church retreat.  Prim and proper y'all!


I did NOT nearly lose control of my bladder while playing a game called Old World Outhouses.  (It is a SIMPLE but so ENTERTAINING non-commercial game that combines elements of Pictionary with that beloved Telephone/Gossip game.  To play you simply give each person - a recommended minimum of 8 players - a stack of notecard sized papers with as many pieces as there are people.  Players write a phrase/saying on the top sheet and then pass the whole stack to their right.  Players on the right read phrase, and put it on the bottom of the stack, then draw the phrase or saying as best they can.  Players pass to the right and again put the picture on the bottom of the stack, but have to guess what the picture is illustrating, so they write a phrase.  Pass to the right and simply repeat until all players have had all the stacks.  Then read and view the updated renditions that people came up with)  Because it was a church retreat we did NOT have phrases/pictures with sperm, drug paraphernalia, violence, etc.  See above statements about maturity, solemnity etc.  


Fond memories of this retreat abound - this is just a taste ;)

I can NOT wait for next year.  Because I'm impatient like that.
© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Saturday, May 1, 2010

Who turned up the busy?

Holy smokes y'all.

It is that mad dash to the end of the school year and dang, we got busy!

I'm so sad about that too, because I had a great Not Me Monday [still in my head], replete with a bedroom disturbance whilst things were Happenin'.  Oh yeah, it would seem that locking the door doesn't do much if the door isn't latched shut.  But hey, at least my sons know Mama and Daddy really do love each other, eh?  :snort:

And I thought I would just get it pounded out (the NMM post) on Wednesday and rebrand it as Wasn't Me Wednesday, but as you all know, that didn't happen.

Kelsey's behavior of late has been a crazy cocktail of sensory issues + emerging hormones + sheer stubbornness of late and just two nights ago, I became a raving lunatic over it.  Seth was at a worship committee meeting that night and I'd.  HAD. it. up. to. HERE!!!! with her disrespect.  So I totally lost it on her.  :hangs head in shame:  Thankfully, my wonderful husband knows how difficult she is and after I'd called to vent [during a meeting, I mean what was I thinking?!?] and got stuck leaving him a VM, he came home with flowersThis is your cue to all collectively go "Awwww...." seriously, leave it in your comments, lol.

I've made some good eats over the past few weeks and have totally been wanting to resume Foodie Fridays, but haven't made it there yet.

But, what I have done is reclaimed my house.  I have maintained it at a high level of clean for 3 weeks straight and it feels SO GOOD.

We've also gotten back on track with our finances, PLUS someone turned up the busy at Seth's place of employment as well as side jobs and that bodes even better for our wallets, as well.  Praise God for that!  And, I'm back in contacts as a result - which is so good because I really do prefer to run with sunglasses when the sun is SO BRIGHT and lovely.  Note to God, not a complaint, keep pouring the rays out!

I have some ideas in the back of my head about future career/financial plans that I'm toying with.  And now praying about - please, if you're a praying sort, send some up asking for God to reveal His will for me and our future (we're talking when Chris goes to school here).

Speaking of Christopher...his naptime's over wail is on - so until next time.

© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved