You Might Be a Mom...

I always wanted it. Dreamed of it. Wished for it. Couldn't wait for it. 

Now I'm in it. Motherhood: the most challenging and exhausting yet rewarding and completely amazing thing you could ever experience.

It's hard being a working mom. It's hard being a stay-at-home mom. It's all hard. It's easy to get wrapped up in life, too busy to slow down and live in a a state of wonder. I'll never forget a blog post I read from a mom feeling guilty for always hurrying her kids along, not allowing them to fully take life in, ask questions, touch and feel, find and discover. Just stamp "Guilty" on my forehead why don'tcha. In order to keep our house running, my peeps well fed, and my place of work happy with my output, I much too often get "too busy". This morning on my day off, I decided to sloowww down and truly enjoy my time with L. The only thing I planned to accomplish was grocery shopping. So L and I woke up, got ready (kind of), and went to the store...in...no...hurry. And I noticed so much... 

She gave me her first grocery request as we passed the blackberries. It was as if she spotted a puppy when she pointed to them. It was so cute I couldn't say no. Plus, who can say no to fruit? Then in went the tomatoes- they're like candy to her. (She gets it from Grandma). We stopped near the vegetable produce and she exclaimed, "More!" Veggies? No, no... she just wanted the produce to get sprayed again. Towards the end of our trip she was nearing a meltdown and laid her face down on the side of the cart. [Just keep pushing and hope for the best.] As we stopped at the bread, she looked up and again said, "More!" It took me a minute to realize she wanted the cart to move again so that her cheek would vibrate against it. So in a circle we went. 

As I finally finished loading the car, I opened the back door. My attempt to place her in the car seat and head home was put on hold as she excitedly pointed to my seat. "Oh, you want to drive?!" I asked. Yes. Yes, she did.

We did eventually make it home. I pulled into the garage, and we sat in the car for a second as I sang along as loud as I could to the music playing on the radio. I stopped and turned around to see an elated toddler clapping and screaming, (you guessed it) "More!" [And that's the only time anyone will ever clap at the conclusion of my singing.]

It's not always fun and games. Nayyy... It is not. But if you don't stop every once in a while and soak in all that motherhood has to offer, you are sadly minimizing the amazing gift God intended it to be. 

We all experience it differently, but I'm just sure we can relate to a few things. (Wink, wink). Sometimes I have to pinch myself in order to believe I'm actually a mom now. Other times life just screams, "You're a mom!" The following list encompasses it all and will only get longer with time...

Yoouuu might be a mom if:

You find baby hair bows in your coat pocket, toys in your bed (not that kind), or a three-month old bottle behind your bed (with some scientific stage of milk in it.)

You find puffs in random places. You know what "puffs" are.

You say "poo-poo" and "stinky" more times more times in a day than you care to admit.

You can't figure out how your dry shampoo is gone again...already!

You start shopping at Target- like a lot...

Going grocery shopping by yourself produces the same relaxing feeling you get from a trip to the spa-Wait, what is that?

Your washing machine load size is most often set on "small."

You understand that "nap-time" is comparable to receiving a million dollars with only two hours to spend it.

You secretly feel satisfied watching other children misbehave and think to yourself, "Thank God, mine is normal."

(We'll call this one a "mild fit").

You sometimes feel so physically and emotionally tired and desperately in need of a break, you wish your child would go away. The moment they're away, you miss them.

You don't remember what it felt like to shower off the clock- or maybe even just shower for that matter.

You sometimes feel as though you have more arms, hands, fingers, and [yes, even toes] than you thought. (Monkey toes are a real bonus).

You eat like someone is going to run by within a matter of minutes and steal your food.

It feels like you're going on a road trip every time you leave the house, and you pack as though you're never returning.

You find no shame in dancing like a wasted old white woman just to catch a smile.

You know it is possible to feel completely exhausted and completely happy at the same time.

You give other moms the "mom smile" out in public because you instantly feel the bond (and pain...if you're trying to shop).

You have no clue what hit music songs are these days but you can sing baby songs word for word-- and you do often because they play in your head like "the song that never ends..."

Your body just ain't the same as it once was...enough said.

When you think about someone ever hurting your child's feelings, your blood reaches unhealthy temperatures.

Your heart has grown ten sizes; it hurts much easier but loves even stronger .

You feel like you're melting when you hear your child giggle. A belly laugh? Immediately a puddle of wax on the floor.

You don't remember what it felt like before children and you wonder how you ever felt complete without them.

You think and say really cheesy things -such as above- but you don't even care because they're true.

You get choked up [and cry] over any of the following: sad or just plain sweet stories on the radio, friends' blog posts, surprise birthday parties ... seriously?! Seriously.

And lastly...You feel like the luckiest person in the world- every single day.

...........

What would you add?

The Bachelor's Buff Chick

Oh, hello blog I forgot about amidst the chaos of this thing called life...I suppose it's time to write in you, on you? -update you already. So here I am home from work, under the covers after three hours of trying to get my poor sick AND teething child to nap, as the world's most ridiculous but genius show plays in the background. I feel like I have the right to veg (pronounced vejjj) considering I'm now getting sick myself for the third or fourth time in the last couple months. (Wawh Wawwh Waawhh). I hear petty dramatic chatter coming out of the television at the speed of stupid. In case you haven't already figured out... I'm watching a recorded episode of the Bachelor. I think it's what some people would refer to as a guilty pleasure. I normally hate drama, but there's something intriguing about watching normal (?) people make fools of themselves on national television. It's one of the most entertaining reality (but totally scripted) tv shows, and I'm pretty sure my IQ goes down at an alarming rate every time I expose myself to the train wreck that it is. Every time they show the bachelors and bachelorettes trying to swallow each other's faces, I swear I'm done watching it...but then the enticing little video clips come on showing what dramatic mishap will take place after the commercial break, and I just can't look away. If one show understands the power of a tease, it's the Bachelor. 

And maybe I do too, because by now I'm sure you're wondering who the heck the Bachelor's buff chick is. You see, all I planned to do was share a yummy recipe with you today. Little did I know I would get off on a Bachelor tangent when I really just wanted to talk about Buffalo Chicken. And let me just make one thing clear: the following recipe will not make you look like one of the skinny contestants on the Bachelor. So if you are looking for a new best clean-eat, look elsewhere. However, if you want to add a little spice to your kitchen and please your husband, read on. Take that how you will. 

This recipe is simple- it has to be if I'm cooking it. It's spicy. It's fresh. It's not horrrrible for you, so read on. I should also add that I am not a recipe maker; I'm more of a recipe seeker. And I like to alter recipes to my liking so feel free to do the same. This one was inspired by my dad, and we don't measure so good luck (you can't mess it up): 

Buffalo Chicken Salad 

I think I'm supposed to tell you what you need: 

*Some chicken breasts or tenders 

*Frank's Red Hot Sauce 

*Flour

*Buffalo Chicken seasoning packet

*Coconut Oil :) 

*Lettuce

*Tomatoes

*Shredded Cheese

*Corn

*Olives

*Celery 

*Ranch Dressing

*Tortillas (if you prefer a wrap like my saladaphobic husband)

And here comes the most vague recipe you'll ever read (but I know you're all totally capable)...

First, grab a small casserole dish and turn your oven to warm. Then mix together some flour and the seasoning packet in a bowl (the more packet you use, the spicier ...duh)

Next, cut some chicken into large cubes or strips (Don't defrost for too long like I did here...Hate when that happens!)

Next, heat up some Coconut Oil in a pan... (Did you know that using Coconut Oil in food automatically makes it healthy? Now you do.) P.S.This gigantic tub is from Costco- and don't even get me started on all of the purposes it can serve. Thanks, Dad :) 

Dip your chicken pieces into the flour bowl and lightly (or not) coat before tossing into the pan of now hot Coconut Oil...Cook them on Medium for just a few minutes- only need to flip once.

They should turn golden brown... Now get out that Frank's... Mmmhmmm

You can heat the sauce first or just throw some right on top of the pieces of chicken that are done cooking...in your casserole dish...Now place in the oven while you make the rest. (This time they were a lil Hott- with two t's).

Ok, once your chicken is done or before -it's whatever- prepare all of the other ingredients however you like, so that you basically have a salad. Well not basically, you do have a salad. Throw the chicken on top and drizzle with Ranch Dressing. 

It will look something like this except your chicken will be an even better spicy orange color. (I cheated this time and used an off-brand...Use Frank's!) If you prefer a wrap, then wrap it up. Speaking of wraps, that's a wrap! Enjoy!! *Mouth is watering* 

2014 Resolutions

So I'm a week-ish late, but here's the deal. I've never really cared much for New Year's Resolutions because, well, ....probably for the same reason I feel silly reserving Valentine's Day for a meaningful "I love you". Plus, we all know this to be true:

However, howwwwever... This year I will resolute- or whatever it's called :) And they say the best way to keep your New Year's Resolutions is to make them public, so here you go: 

1. I will not buy an enormous tub of cookie dough from Papa Murphy's and eat it until I am so sick I'm forced to throw it away. (True story: Last time I did this, I stared at the over-half eaten tub wondering, "Should I pull you back out?") Instead, I will enjoy a cookie dough tub responsibly- only eating some of its contents and baking the rest. 

Baby steps....

2. I will try to remember every single very important thing that I have to tell my husband in my first phone call. This way I will not have to perform what he regretfully refers to as "the callback." 

3. I will not wait until 10 minutes before I need to be somewhere to start getting ready (which may or may not include shower time) and then look like I'm in the Olympic race of getting out the door. I'm gonna go big here: I will not show up late to church every Sunday...and grumpy because of it. 

4. I will drink more water and eat more protein! (Aren't you proud, Mom?) This was, hands down, her favorite reminder to all of her children growing up in sports. 

5. I will--  But have you seen our candy bill this month?! And what about all of the--OK, OhhKay: 

6. I will drive with a bit more grace. I will not immediately label someone as stupid because they forgot to use their turn signal-- I'll wait until I pass them. Alright, seriously... I'll work on the road rage. I think always being on time everywhere is really going to help. (I'm not really this mean- promise).

7. I will fight through my constant state of exhaustion and play with my daughter more than I watch my daughter.  One strategy I've learned: if you sprawl out on the floor, you get to be lazy and play at the same time. And they absolutely love having you at their level. Just beware of little flying hands and feet, and if you're going to play the "Where's-Mommy's-Eye?" game, establish some rules first-- or you might end up looking like this:  

(Sleep well tonight, by the way...)

8. I will find the time to just relax- simple as that. I love the view when I do. 

9. I will not convince myself that the grass is greener on the other side of the fence; I will bloom where I'm planted. Along with that, I will not get too caught up focusing on all the ways I could change in order to be a perfect version of myself. I will appreciate all of the experiences and changes that have brought me to where I am today. 

10. And last, but most importantly, I will find the time (daily) to fall in love with Jesus all over again. I love the song that says, "It's gotta be more like falling in love than something to believe in...". I know it to be true that when I'm not spending time learning more about Him, I tend to revert to my selfish human nature that actually doesn't look humanly at all-- it makes me look more like this:

When, given a little spiritual help, could look more like this:

Welp... Wish me luck :) 

Call in the Panda

Sometimes you just have to call in the Panda.  Let me explain…

Happy jibber-jabber echoed from the back seat of my car as Leighton and I headed home this afternoon.  My head continued pounding, eyes glazed over, and nose nearly bursting from my horribly awesome sickness which is no longer deniable. I sound like a man-toad too.  I called the husband, only to find out he would be home late from work.  As usual, in the matter of minutes I remained on the phone, my mischievous daughter began pouring milk from her bottle onto her lap.  It’s as if she likes watching me try to drive straight while simultaneously reaching backwards to end her game.  At least this time she didn’t move the bottle just enough centimeters away from my fingers that I couldn’t actually grab it. Then grin from ear-to-ear as she watched me fumble for it. (I wish that was a joke.) 

When we arrived home, I began the normal routine.  Let the dog out of its crate, watch the dog jump around like crazy,… let the dog out to go potty. {Am I the only one that still refers to it as such?} Then, because sometimes I believe my child actually has a desire to behave (buried deep within), I left her inside so I could grab another load from the car. (And to think I used to get out of the car with only a purse.)  I walked back inside to find L splashing in the dog crate. "Where did the water from?", you ask. Oh, just out of our dog’s bowl she dumped upside-down in the thirty seconds it took me to travel roundtrip to the garage.  A few minutes later, I found myself stomping water out of the carpet, which did wonders for my sinus headache.

My mouth was now watering for the amazingly spicy Buffalo Chicken Salads I planned to make for dinner. I started to clean up the kitchen, put away bottles, and clean up lunch containers when I realized I was still in normal clothes. Unbelievable.  The way I feel when I’m at home in "outside” clothes is probably the way a nudist feels when he has to wear clothes—extremely uncomfortable. L followed me back to my room so I could put on my house clothes, which typically consists of yoga pants and a sweatshirt.  This is going to sound like I made it up, but as I walked around my bed, I found L splashing her hands in water on my nightstand.  Not only that, but she was drenched, and water was dripping out of my nightstand drawer.  This time she’d found my water cup.  As with the crate-water incident, I raised my voice, and firmly grabbed her and made her sit down while I cleaned up the mess.  Now my throat was sorer than before, and I was beyond irritated with her.  I one-by-one grabbed soaking items out of my nightstand drawer to dry them off.  {Side note: I found pepper spray and a tattoo design. 1. What good is pepper spray going to do when it’s buried in your nightstand? “Hold on…I know it’s here somewhere.” And 2. L grabbed the design and shredded it, so I guess I’ll have to pick a new one. Don’t worry, Mom, it’ll never actually happen.}    

I returned to the kitchen; but at this point, this sick and tired mama was nearing to her breaking point.  Then all of the sudden, it came to me—an idea, a solution, a way out of making dinner.  I called the husband and said, “I’m this close to rolling up in a ball, finding a corner, and slowly rocking back and forth. What I really mean to say is...Can you please pick up Panda on your way home?”

I sheepishly took off my “super-mom” badge, said “forget you” to some dishes, and heavily sighed.  If anything was being made in the kitchen, it wasn’t happening with my weary hands.  Nay, I was going to unapologetically devour a sodium-rich Panda bowl (something I might actually be able to taste). However, there was one thing I’d forgotten to do…One very important thing. Give it up. Give it all up to God. I quickly asked him to step in- or something along those lines.  (You know, one of those times you're feeling too stubborn to ask for much else.)

Within moments, I felt my grumpiness fade. I sprawled out onto the floor with L.  Over and over again I answered the question, “Wussat?! Wussat?! (What’s that?) as we watched her creepily silly baby show together. I danced like only Leighton was watching. She bulldozed over me the way she does with our 90 lb dog, kneeing my boobs in the process; but leaving my cheek with a kiss.  I forgot about how much I despise our dog-hair filled carpet as we played together on the floor.  Equally unimportant to me became our messy, well-lived in house.  As L jumped on me once again, I realized there’s nothing a little talk with God, playing with your child, and some Orange Chicken can’t cure. 

Wrapped Up

Sun ray's bounce off of snow-covered branches over a white glistening blanket, children's joyous screams echo throughout the neighborhood, jolly rosy-cheeked Santa's hear little Christmas wishes, nighttime traffic creates glowing lightshows against the dark, beautiful houses and intricately decorated trees twinkle, and wonderful presents are wrapped up- but are we as well? 

Are we wrapped up in everything Christmas but the birth of our precious world-saving Jesus? You see, had I written this before I was done with my Christmas shopping and implementation of work parties, it might've read something like this...

Freezing snow flew onto the seat of my car as I opened the door, frost-bitten hands threw heavy bags of presents onto the seat. Crowds flooded the parking lot, cars illuminated by amber lights prevented me from moving. Children screeched, stores were swarmed with busy people. You get the picture. 

I watch my daughter look with excitement and pure wonder at the manger scene in our living room, giggling in delight as I point to Baby Jesus, and I covet her innocence. I want to see Christmas time in a new light. I want the sparkling snowflakes falling onto my blush nose to remind me why this season is so magical. I want to picture the miracle that happened that night with the same awe Leighton does when she sees the manger. 

(Yes, she gave a dog bone as offering. But you gotta give her credit for the book- babies like those.)

.......

"We're almost there," Joseph said tenderly as he gently rubbed Mary's back. Her faithful smile revealed hopefulness through her weary breathing and heavy eyes. Joseph steadily pushed through the evening crowd surrounding the streets of little Bethlehem, leading his precious wife and her beautifully round belly on the family donkey.  Mary suddenly reached over her side trying to ease the pain of yet another strong contraction, which told that the birth of her first child would soon happen.  Joseph cleared a way up to the Inn where Mary and Joseph planned to stay. "What do you mean there's no room?" Asked Joseph fearfully.  Knowing he needed to keep Mary and the baby calm, he let out a deep sigh and remained poised. He turned to his scared laboring wife with a strong confidence. "We'll just try the place down the road," he encouraged. 

After another full house, and a second discouraging "no", the anxious and exhausted couple continued on. Finally, in the near distance, they could see a possibility. They gazed into each other's heavy eyes, praying this would be the end of their tiresome journey. An older gentleman picked up a lantern from the concrete porch; with keys in hand, he turned towards the old rusty door to go inside for the night. "Wait", Joseph loudly yelled. The old man started to shake his head when he caught a glimpse of Mary on the muddy donkey.  "We need a place to stay," begged Joseph as they neared the porch. 

"I'm really sorry", replied the man. "We just gave away our last room. I have no where to put you." 

"Please", asked Joseph. By now his eyes were welled with frustrated tears. The man looked at Joseph and again at Mary, compassionately thinking of a way to help. 

He held up the small lantern and motioned for the couple to follow. They curiously began walking where the man was leading through the subtle lighted path he created. The man placed his lantern on the ground in a bed of fresh straw. It's glow illuminated the wooden stable that sheltered a few small animals.  Mary and Joseph looked at each other with relief, and then among the warmth of the shelter, stared up at the enormous bright star taking over the night sky.  

Within hours, Joseph was squeezing Mary's shaking hand as she began to bring a perfect baby into a hurting world.  Tears streamed down both of their faces when they held up baby Jesus as he let out his first subtle noise. They wrapped their most amazing gift in white swaddling clothes and laid him snug in the manger.  Through the unexplainable silence that fell over the world, they praised God as they studied his perfect face...

.......

I can only imagine the extravagant party the angels threw that night up in Heaven; and I hope that our Christmas family get-togethers will echo the one they'll throw again tomorrow.  I love Christmas. I love the beautiful decorations, the glistening snow, the laughter and love that abound. I just hope that I don't lose sight of what makes this time truly magical, and that's the birth of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  In my mind, the abundance of presents isn't always a bad thing. I can bet that Jesus absolutely loves watching his children light up with excitement as they all exchange gifts with one another. He humbly entered the world as our gift, and it humbly brings him joy watching everyone else open presents on His own Birthday. As long as we remember... It's all because of Him. 

Once Upon-a-Month

What is that? What is that craziness that wells up inside me that just says, "don't look at me I want to punch you."

What did You do?

Nothing...you did nothing!

I'm not normally crazy about chocolate, but my stomach starts cramping and it would be safer for you to be stuck between a hungry silverback gorilla and a small child than between me and my chocolate. Oreo milkshakes, chocolate pudding, brownies,...Seriously, just pass the Hershey syrup. What is that? 

And the hot water bottle, oh the hot water bottle... This cramp-saver my Grammie gave me looks like it came straight out of a time machine, but do I love it! My husband, on the other hand, hates this thing so much he has literally hid it under the bed countless times so that I cannot find it (thus, resulting in him filling it up for me). When I have stomach cramps I am more attached to this thing than my daughter is to her bunny she sleeps with every night that smells like morning poop-breath because she gnaws on it so much. 

Clothes? Wait. Hold on, you want me to wear normal clothes? I have been menstruating for three days straight and you want me to put clothes on? What is that? 

That...that, my friends is the once-upon-a-month curse. That awful wretched disease that strikes and immediately turns your world upside down. You would almost rather be pregnant for the rest of your entire life than spend five days of every month teetering with the idea of checking yourself in somewhere. Why does that happen to us...why? Well, women, it happens to us because we are the only species strong enough to make it through. We are supercreature; I would say superhuman, but there is literally not another kind on the planet that can withstand slowly dying for a few days and then magically coming back to life. Our husbands, fathers, brothers, guy friends, and male co-workers, on the other hand, ( I know you are reading this in an attempt to better understand females, consequently saving your own life) are hurting and desperate for more answers.

I have a solution, and it does not involve living in the crawlspace for five days with a supply of chocolate and a heating pad- way too many spiders down there. 

It's called Prozac. HA...yeah, yeah...you think I'm joking, but to my tired and confused mom with a mentally unstable sixteen-year-old (only 5 days a month, of course) it was no joking matter. You see, it turns out there is actually something called PMDD. Premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) is a severe, sometimes disabling extension of premenstrual syndrome (PMS). According to Mary M. Gallenberg M.D. (Mayo Clinic), Treatment of PMDD is directed at preventing or minimizing symptoms and may include:

• Antidepressants. Selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs), such as fluoxetine (Prozac, Sarafem, others) and sertraline (Zoloft) may reduce emotional symptoms and other symptoms, such as fatigue, food cravings and sleep problems. You can reduce symptoms of PMDD by taking SSRIs all month or only in the interval between ovulation and the start of your period.

So there you have it. If Aunt Flo's visit every month nearly sends you over an edge, you may be in luck. There are certainly other treatments that can help if you aren't a believer of modern medicine: things such as reading your Bible and praying, really hard and really often. Working out and exercising to keep stress levels low is another idea. (I thought you were just supposed to eat everything in sight.) My doctor at the time recommended the antidepressants (at a very low dose) so that's what I did a few days each month. I felt so much less irritable, and I stopped hurting people (just kidding). 

I also find it extremely entertaining that Dr. Gallenberg adds the following advice: "Try to avoid emotional triggers, such as arguments over financial issues or relationship problems, if possible." (Ya think!?) 

The good news is: Apparently being pregnant evened out my hormones; I haven't noticed the problem quite so much...so much, in fact, I've been laying off the meds for awhile. Either that or I'm so [mom]crazy now I can't tell the difference a few days a month. I would finish this post but my husband just read this last paragraph and said we need to talk...? Toodles. 

Party-in-Your-Mouth Chowder

Well now that I have your attention, I have to admit the soup is more of a get-together in your mouth than a party but super tasty nonetheless. This Chicken Corn Chowder recipe is a crowd pleaser, and more importantly, a husband-approved meal as well.  The best part though? It reins from a cookbook titled Almost-Homemade which is perfect for this mom who gets home from work and makes dinner while trying to entertain a 1.2 year old which earns me the title Almost-Insane. This old-lady cookbook has saved me in the kitchen more than once with its claim: "shortcuts to your favorite home-cooked meals plus tips for upper lips entertaining." (Hey voice text, that was supposed to say "effortless entertaining"...but well played.) Alright, you caught me; I'm already blog-cheating: I'm not writing, I'm speaking. Have you tried typing on an iPad?  

Without further adieu, I present to you: Chicken Corn Chowder. 

OK, forget the adiue, I'm back. I just have to add that let's not forget this is soup here; you can't mess it up! Have more guests? Double it! Hate onions? Leave em' out. Katie French is just a regular ol' gal..what does she know? More than me I'm afraid. Check out her tip near the bottom of the page: "Save extra broth by freezing in an ice cube tray or muffin tin. Add the broth cubes when cooking rice or veggies...a real flavor boost." Pure genius.

Here's the ingredients I'm using this time. I personally think canned chicken tastes a bit too much like tuna so I use the real thing whenever possible. I also grabbed extra chicken broth as I will be adding potato chunks (didn't make it for the picture) to make it more hearty. Oh, as well as extra green chiles for the husband's spicy desires. Maybe this time it will be a party. 

See I told you it was an old-lady cookbook. It's so Southernly-cute it makes me not hungry. 

We'll, here it is...the finished product. Feel free to top with tortilla strips or sour cream in case it wasn't already healthy enough for you. And now, you can entertain with pride. When someone compliments your awesome chowder simply smile and say, "Oh really? Gosh, thanks. It better be good. It takes a whole day to make it. Creating broth from scratch is a real pain."