Penny Saved Penny Earned?

Today I learned an important lesson. Somethings are just worth the 70% markup.
Ok, so today I decided to dabble a bit in the cooking arts. Just a little harmless flirtation with some pretty heavy items.

First, I baked bread. Ok, so this doesn't sound like a big deal. But you have to understand. Yeast  FREAKS me out. Until two months ago, I wouldn't even have the stuff in my house. I view yeast as a bad game of Russian Roulette, where all the barrels but one are loaded. I mean, when bread goes wrong... well it can really go wrong. I have lived in fear of the odd smelling growing stuff since I can remember. But, Sticky gooey cinnamon rolls have been beckoning me for almost ten years now. So, I gave in. I bought yeast, and after staring at it for a month, I attempted to use it. And failed. I did not give up though, and conquered the wonderful sinful mass of goodness (Best Cinnamon Rolls EVER). My confidence soared... so I decided to tackle the next thing - 100% Whole Wheat Bread. I mean come on... easy right? No way.

My problem. I want a bread that is tasty, soft, low in sugar, does not use dried milk and doesn't require a lot of  work (kneading). Apparently no one else has my ideals; I couldn't find a single recipe that sounded right, so I was forced to improvise. I did compromise and spent 10 minutes kneading my dough... the result... to be honest, I'm not that impressed. I thought eating fresh baked bread is supposed to be a nirvana like experience. Didn't do anything for me. I'll give it another try someday, but till then, I would like to say thank you to all of those bakers out there that can pull off a tasty, soft, low sugar 100% whole wheat bread. And as I rub my aching arms and hands, those few extra dollars to have it all... so worth it.

Second, when you have a fresh loaf of bread rising, why not make something to go with it right? I mean the labor intensive loaf shouldn't sit on it's own... right? No, of course it need's a labor intensive meal to go with it. So, I made Tikka Masala.... (Don't ask, my husband said curry, and my mind did the rest.)

The result was amazing. I loved it. Not as hard as I thought, pretty simple actually and the flavor... oh the flavor (I really like Indian food and don't eat it near often enough). I mean, who needs an Indian restaurant? Oh wait... what is that smell... in the cupboard... the bathroom... my bedding. My entire house smells like a bowl of Tikka Masala. Can you have authentic tasting Indian cuisine at home? Yes... should you? I'll leave that up to you. In the mean time, I will be eating out when I crave Tikka Masala and doing lots of laundry.

Alone on Christmas

I am happily married, a mother of three wild children, sister, friend, and daughter.... never thought I would be alone on Christmas. But, after all the kids are in bed and my husband left for work, here I sit - ALONE...

Funny, how after a crazy day of cooking, cleaning, unwrapping, refereeing and playing, you would think that I would be thrilled to be alone. No.

So, here I sit. Avoiding the things I need to do. Wishing my husband was here. Hoping that I will gain the courage to face the empty living room that just moments ago was full of crazy, happy, energetic life... Then again, maybe this isn't so bad after all.

I can watch what I want.
Listen to the Christmas music I like.
Sit on my ass.
And Relax.

Yeah, it would be nice to do that with someone else, but then again, tonight I don't have to share the remote.

Merry Christmas! Pass the Eggnog!

Packages all tied up with paper and string

Ahh, the satisfaction of being done with the Christmas shopping and looking at all your packages wrapped and ready to go. I know, sounds shallow, huh?

But I can look back at my childhood and understand why those pretty packages mean so much to me. Growing up, we never had a lot at Christmas. I still remember the year we came home from church to a tree on our porch. A beautiful thing to a kid, whose parent's couldn't afford a tree. I cherish the memories of gifts that were given to us from anonymous people or friends when we weren't expecting any. Those gifts meant even more. I even liked the fact that we didn't get a lot of gifts at Christmas. I remember hearing kids at school talk about the 8 or more gifts they got and thinking how sad it was. At 10 years old I actually told myself that they couldn't enjoy all of their gifts if they got so many.

My other memories of gifts were the matching gifts. One year it was porcelain dolls, another year matching coats, and again matching bikes.... then yet again, at 14 it was matching outfits. Don't get me wrong, it isn't an attitude of ingratitude that I look back on those gifts. I was truly grateful, and still am. But somehow, they left me with a void. Or maybe it was a voice, crying "don't you know me?" "Do you take the time to listen?" Another time, a family member took me shopping for my gift, and  purchased a dress for me even when I told them I did not like it. The gifts were not about the recipient, they were about the giver. Not what I wanted, not what mattered to me, but what worked for them.

These experiences have influenced my gift giving. I want to give generously, to put my heart and soul into giving. To give in a way that shows that I care about the person who I am giving to. I also want to be mindful that it isn't about the money, but the heart.  The result has often been high levels of stress. Trying to balance generosity with prudence is like walking a tight rope over the Grand Canyon. Only, I'm the one that is not very forgiving.

Yet here I am, truly excited about the gifts I am giving. Why? 

Because I have put my heart into them. I am absolutely thrilled to give. And because I've seen little miracles come together to make it happen.

So, here it is... this year started with a problem... my usual dilemma was put to it's ultimate test. This is the year I was supposed to trim down my budget. Due to some financial decisions, which will work for our good in the long run, we are trying to keep our spending closely reigned in. How does one give generously without spending a lot of money? The pressure was on.

To my amazement, when I looked in my gift closet ( I have 5 nieces and nephews... I'm always getting things when I see them) I had almost all the gifts I needed for my nieces and nephews already purchased. 

Next step, poor my heart and soul into gifts from the heart. So over 10 hours later, the homemade gifts are ready (Ok, that is probably an under estimate, but I don't really want to think about how much time I really spent on them, or I will probably just buy them next year).

Without breaking budget, Christmas was well on it's way...  Ok, so I've probably spent well over 20 hours poring over every gift and detail, writing out lists, making sure I haven't forgot anyone. It hasn't been a cake walk. But it is worth it.

On to the next step. *Sigh* My family... I will admit, I have struggled this year. I've even shed tears and lost sleep on more nights than I am willing to admit ( I know I usually admit everything). So, as a desperate mama who want's nothing more than to give to her kids, I begged my Father for help. See, I don't want to just get my kids toys... I don't want them to have an even number of gifts, or even and even amount of money spent. It isn't about being fair or even about providing what I didn't have growing up. 

I want to show my kids that I know who they are, care about what is important to them, and here what they say. I want my gifts to reflect what they love, want and desire, but even more, something that speaks to them that I know what that is.

So how does one do that on a budget? By begging the greatest Giver for a gift. Yes, I have been praying for what to give my kids for Christmas since October... maybe even September. And not just a quick little prayer either.

And the best gift I got this year... My Father heard my heart. He not only answered my prayers, but he did it beyond what I had asked.

Wood that is in the clearance bin, a stranger offering me her coupon, a four week long fight with my husband that resulted in something beautiful, and a buy one get one free of already marked down to 50% off sale, all culminated into gifts I can't wait to give. 

So as I look at my packages all tied up with paper and string, I am truly thankful for the gift of giving. 

Embracing Denial

So I know that denial is actually a bad thing... But today, I don't care. If denial is what gets me through the day, then SO BE IT... I must Deny.

So what am I in denial about?

1. My son starts kindergarten next year
2. My kitchen floor, or more appropriately the gunk that is hiding my kitchen floor
3. My load of laundry in the drier that is covered with a bucket of lint
4. My stack of presents that need wrapping, but I don't want to waste paper
5. My moldy vegetables and jars of who knows what in the deep recesses of my fridge
6. My friendly black widow spider that greats me each time I enter the garage
7. My garden that apparently has attracted vermin of unknown kind and refuses to sprout
8. My beautiful bright orange sugar pie pumpkins that have been on my counter since October


So, is there anything terribly wrong about pretending that these things are not important? That I don't need to worry about them? Is is possible that they will go away?

Truthfully, only one of those things is truly important. So what if my floor is dirty, that my presents will be haphazardly wrapped at the last minute, that my clothes are covered in lint and wrinkled, that I have a science experiment in my fridge or an odd fly trap. Does it really matter that my garden isn't producing or that I will be eating pumpkins in February? No.

What is important, is the one that scares me the most... my number one. What haunts me throughout the night, yet paralyzes me during the day. My son, my first born starts SCHOOL next year... and I haven't figured out where yet. OUCH! Ok, I've admitted it. Guess I can't embrace denial if I am admitting. Oh, but I long for denial. A place where I can pretend an important decision like that doesn't exist, or were I don't have to constantly feel guilty for not calling and visiting every school in the area.

In honor of truth, I must admit, I am terrified. Not of him, not of school, but of making the wrong decision. How do you know what the right school is? What makes a good school? What does my child need to succeed? How much is too much? Or how little is too little?

I ask the questions, and still feel lost. And so, until Christmas is over, I choose to embrace denial, so I can sleep at night, tackle my laundry, scrub a floor and wrap gifts. I might even bake a pumpkin as well.

Trusting the Griller

The other day, I coerced my husband into enter a grilling contest. He had received 2nd place the previous year and I was determined to show his (my) skills off again this year. I spent hours going over marinade options, took all three kids to the store to purchase the meat (not an easy task) and carefully created the perfect "brew" for my tri-tip. I also  turned the meat every two hours to ensure thorough marination and on the day of the bbq, I was the one that put everything together so we were ready. Then I looked at my husband and said, " don't screw it up". Ok, I didn't really say that, but I thought it.
The contest, held at our church's annual memorial day picnic, wasn't complicated, and only a few people entered. We got to the park early, I was hungry to compete. My husband was not. Over the course of the next two hours, I spent more time moaning, groaning, humming and ha-ing over how my husband was cooking the meat. "Babe, don't you think you should start the meat?" "Is the grill hot enough?" "Did you turn it to soon?" "Let it rest longer." "You're cutting it to thick." "Those pieces are to big." "Why haven't you covered it?"
My poor husband, he didn't even want to participate in the contest in the first place, and here he was, being micro managed, nit-picked and criticized instead of hanging with the guys or playing with the kids. After the picnic was over, I began to ponder what happened. Had I ever really given him control? Was it really about him? Why had I even asked him to grill the meat? Then, the thoughts went deeper. Is this how I am with God? Have I ever really given him control? Do I sit there and nit-pick how he does things? Do I try to micro-manage my own life? How many times have I told God that I want to do something, ask Him to accomplish it for me and then sit there and complain about how it isn't going the way I want it to. Do I tell Him that He is doing it wrong? Do I even give control over to Him so that He can do it?

Proverbs 3:5-6 says "Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. ⁶ Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take (NLT)."  The Message put it this way, " Trust God from the bottom of your heart; don't try to figure out everything on your own. Listen for God's voice in everything you do, everywhere you go; he's the one who will keep you on track. Don't assume that you know it all. Run to God! Run from evil! (vs. 5-7)" 


Why do I fear letting go so deeply. I have this reoccurring nightmare that haunts me. I find myself thrown into a moving van, and I am expected to drive the van from the back seat. We are talking about a fifteen passenger van and I'm steering from the fourth or fifth row. As I careen through traffic I desperately try to make it to the front of the car so I can see what I am doing and not get myself killed. I usually wake up in a panic right before I crash into something. When I don't trust God and follow Him, am I trying to steer my life from the back seat?  Or worse, am I telling God that I trust his driving and then tell him that he is going to fast, or that he is going the wrong way? Is it even possible to navigate through life with such a limited view? What does it mean to actually trust someone enough to let go and not be a back seat driver?
In order to put my trust in someone, I have to decide who I want to be in control.  I have to decide if I want my husband to be in control of the meat or myself. If I am the one doing all the prep for the meat, I should just be the one to grill it, I shouldn't ask someone else to do what I want to do. If I do decide that I want my husband to do it, that means handing over the whole task, and only doing what I've been asked. I must follow his leadership even if I disagree because he is the one in control.
With God, I have to decide who I want to be in control of my life. The one who knows everything, understands everything and loves me, or myself, the one with in the back seat who can't see much through all the seats, head rests and pillows (because there are always pillows in my way, don't ask). I must stop assuming I know all, stop trying to figure things out on my own, and let Him be the one who keeps me on track. All with my mouth closed, after all if I truly trusted, would I have anything to say?

Chocolate Frozen Yogurt

My heater is on, I'm in long sleeves, pants and sox, and the sky is cloudy, but dog on it, it is June and I wanted to make frozen yogurt. Ever since I started buying whole milk plain yogurt, the frozen treat has been beckoning me. Today, I gave in and decided to go for it, winter weather and all.
I was not planning on making chocolate, but in a moment of brief insanity, I asked my son what he wanted. And just like his mama would have said at his age, chocolate was the flavor of choice. I actually wanted strawberry, which I will have to make another day. I started by looking at two recipes on line, but didn't like the sound of either. They used either to much milk, heavy cream or to many eggs. What's a girl to do? Throw out the recipe's and play of course. The result is a tart, creamy and very chocolaty frozen yogurt that is begging for fresh raspberries and whipped cream.

Chocolate Frozen Yogurt
1/2 cup milk
2 Tbs cocoa (heaping)
2/3 cup sugar (I used sugar in the raw)
1/2 cup semisweet chocolate chips ( preferably a higher quality like Trader Joe's)
1 egg yolk, whisked
2 1/2 cups whole plain yogurt
1 tsp vanilla

Heat milk in heavy saucepan over medium heat, whisk in cocoa and sugar until smooth. Add chocolate and whisk till smooth. Add two to three table spoons of hot chocolate mixture to egg and whisk to temper. Add egg to chocolate and whisk. Remove from heat. Fold chocolate mixture and vanilla into yogurt. Refrigerate till cool, approximately 1 hour. Pour chocolate yogurt into ice cream maker and follow manufacturer's instructions. Store in freezer in an air tight container.

Dreams come true even at two

I just asked my two year old daughter what she wanted to wear. We walked over to the closet and she grabbed a dress and said, " my dream, my dress". Who would have thought she would have found her dream dress at 2.