Time with my Father

The other day I was going to sit down and enjoy a little time of reflecting and alone time, actually,  I really just wanted to blog. I was ready to relish in my moment to my self, but it did not last long. Only a minute or two.
For many obvious reasons, I started reflecting on parent hood. It always amazes me how at the end of the day, no matter how much my kids annoy the snot out of me, I still love them. Their little quirks and personalities are like roots that dig deep into my soul and no matter how strong the wind of rebellion or disobedience is, the roots are firmly grounded and my heart is still tender with love.
So I love them, now what? What are my expectations? Obviously I want them to behave, to grow into kind, patient and responsible individuals. But do I want more? What do I want out of my kids? What do I gain from them? I was struck with what it was that I really wanted. TIME! I wanted time with my kids. Sweet moments of enjoyment. Not moments of perfection, where each one was behaving, but true time with them where they were at. I wanted time that was spent with them being true to themselves, including the quirks and particular attributes that made them uniquely them. I wanted to enjoy them for who they were.
Suddenly my mind went to my Father. I have always had a hard time understanding His love. My earthly father had offered a very clouded and inaccurate view of what love was, and I had transferred that to my true Father. How does He feel about me? What does He want? What are His expectations? And then I realized. He is no different. He wants time with me. He knows exactly where I was at and still wants to be with me. He does not expect me to be perfect, but wants to enjoy the things He created in me that make me uniquely me. He wants to spend time with me and enjoy me. So my evening ended, spending time with my Father.

My Dear Friend Guadalupe

My dear friend Guadalupe saved us from what seemed like sure drowning. I don't know what it is, but once your kids reach two, every project they will ever do again involves paper. Paper planes, paper trees, paper wind sox, paper kites, paper clouds..... paintings on paper, drawings on paper, handprints on paper.... A fridge can only hold so much. What is a mom too do? I was up to my eyeballs in "beautiful" pieces of artwork that my children adored. 

I made the fatal mistake once of throwing a piece away in front of my son... "That's mine, " he said as he ran screaming towards me as if I was throwing a piece of him away. I've also thrown it away (recycled it) at night when he was sleeping. Inevitably, he remembers his handiwork and asks me where it was.

That is where my dear friend Guadalupe comes in. I now tell my children that we have so many beautiful pieces of artwork that we must share them. Our friend Guadalupe would love us to share them with her. They are usually fine knowing that their artwork is being appreciated by someone, I am happy to have it out of my way, and the world is a more peaceful place for all.... that is until they one day realize that Guadalupe is the name of our local landfill.

Cranberry Orange Bread

My husband's schedule has changed, leaving me alone more evenings during the week. The result: an incessant need to bake. Although I had already made macaroons and german chocolate cake the day before, I needed to make something for a girls night I was having with a close friend. For some reason I could not get cranberry orange bread off my mind.
In usual fashion, I looked up multiple recipes and printed two. Then I took out a piece of paper and forgot to look at those recipes as I wrote my plan down. The result was fabulous. A moist, tender, full flavor bread that begs to be made again and again.

Cranberry Orange Bread
Makes one large loaf or three small
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
4 Tbs softened butter
3/4 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup yogurt
3/4 cup plus 1/2 cup orange juice
2 Tbs orange zest
2 eggs
1 cup dried cranberries

Presoak dried cranberries in 1/2 cup of orange juice for 2 to 3 hours. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine flour, salt, baking soda and baking powder in bowl and set aside. Combine orange juice, orange zest and yogurt and set aside. In mixer, cream butter and sugar. Add in eggs and continue to beat. Add flour mixture and yogurt mixture alternately on low until just combined. Stir in cranberries. Pour into greased pans and bake 30-35 minutes for small loafs and 50-55 minutes for large loaf.
Let cool completely and wrap with plastic wrap to maintain moistness.

Arrested Development

This week has been tough. Like a cold slap in the face, I have watched myself make more mistakes than I want to admit. My mouth is my own worst enemy.  I know the person I want to be... Kind, sensitive, listening, of few words, wise, sympathetic, slow to speak, always uplifting, encouraging and well, quiet. I am not willing to say that I am not that person, but I have fallen short of my mark most moments of every day. Just the other week, I had thought that I had grown, but now I feel like my growth isn't stagnate but that I have back slid.
I find myself talking even when I don't know what I am saying. It is like I have to talk when I feel awkward, which only makes me feel more awkward. I can't handle silence so I try to fill it... usually resulting in me saying things that I regret. I offer advice, throw out opinions or slander those I care about.
Blogging is a beautiful outlet for me. It gives me the opportunity to think before I communicate. To read and reread my thoughts before I put them out there for others to see. I wish that my everyday communication was more like that. That my words would reflect who I want to be and not the result of me trying to meet my own trivial needs. Somehow I need to no longer be in a state of arrested development. I need to become comfortable with awkward silence, listen first and foremost and never say anything that could hurt.  Oh that I could grow past this.