All Is Calm, All Is Bright

I'm home after a day that started wayyyyyy early
and ended wayyyyy late.


I drove up to Loveland to meet Dean's new caregiver,
and to help set his room up.


I got up to Loveland too early,
so I stopped by Wally World
(and it was, handsdown, the cleanest WW, I've ever been to!--
they should give tours inside, no kidding.  It's in Westminster, CO. fyi)
yeah, so as I was sayin',
I stopped in there to get Dean some stuff.
Actually, I had no idea what I was there for,
but I wanted to bring something with me,
to leave for him there,
as I knew I wouldn't be seeing him today,
but I wanted him to know I'd been there.


I had grabbed a framed family photo off the mantel--
it's the one on my header up there,
and another one of Dean in a tux, 
taken his Senior year.


But the "MOM" in me, 
wasn't done...
there had to be something I could bring my boy
to his new place...
so this is what I found:
* a yellow composition book--because Deano loves to write and scribble.
It calms him down.
* a Santa Claus Yo-Yo (b/c he loves Santa!)
* a Santa Claus tic tac toe game (have u seen his pic on the sideboard? he's Santa's helper!)
* a pack of peppermint gum
* a dry erase board
* a Frosty the Snowman dvd (Santa's in there!)
* AXE toiletries (cuz Deano's a manly man)
* spinning toothbrush and paste 


And I think that's it. Just random stuff.


When I got to his new house,
the agency had just moved his belongings inside,
and the caregiver invited me in,
and we got to know each other 
while we put Dean's stuff away.


I got to make his bed up for him
and I loved it.
You know when you kinda make a bed
and 
when you really make the bed?


I really made his bed.
Like, with all the love in my mother heart,
I made his bed.
lol
And I went thru his clothes and pulled out the weird ones
that aren't even his,
and the worn out ones and too small ones,
and all the junky ones he's shown up to our house in.
And all of his Special Olympics t-shirts that he's grown out of--
I brought them home with me in a big box,
and I've decided to make a nice quilt for him for Christmas
outta those SO shirts.
I think he'll love it.
I hope so.
I hope he doesn't freak out and say,
"Mom! What'd you do to my shirts?!"
That wouldn't be good.
Def not the reaction I'm going for!


Anyway, I was there for two hours
and got to know the new "Mom"
pretty good.
She's an Angel.
She lives in Loveland,
so that makes total sense, hunh?


I told her all about my Dean
and his funny things--
like calling 911 when his closet light burnt out,
and telling David Scott that his new bride, Tisha,
was "HOT".


And I told her how he loves to 
cook
and vacuum
and that "Phantom of the Opera" is his all-time favorite movie
and that he'll tell you he can do ANYTHING--
and will offer to drive the car too,
but that he can't really drive.


And I told her he has a family that loves him
and appreciates her willingness 
to help us take care of him.


And I only boobed-up with tears once,
so I did pretty good.
N' I told her I always boob-up when I talk about Dean.
She is totally cool with that--
she has grown up kids too, 
and they make her boob-up when she talks about them too.


So I cleaned up Dean's room,
laid out his goodies from me,
loaded up the car with the junky stuff
he doesn't need anymore,
hugged the new Mom in his life,
and left there without tears.


Without tears.
Because I felt the prayers of my many friends
lifting my spirits up beyond guilt and grief,
and I felt right today.
Like Kristina P. said in her comments,
I did the right thing.
Thank you Kristina aka Snuggie Woman...
you said the right thing too.


So that's that.
We'll keep in touch of course,
with Dean and his new caregiver,
and we'll see him in a few weeks.


At first,
I was fretting about this move being so close
to Christmas,
but as I drove home listening to 
Christmas music,
I heard Hillary Weeks sing Silent Night,
and when she sang
"All is calm, All is Bright",
that's how I felt right then.
All IS calm
and 
All IS bright.

Dean's Move

I'm headed up to Loveland this morning
to help move Dean into his new host home.
This is one of those days
or experiences I should say,
that you have to go with the flow.

I don't have any preconceived ideas
about how this is going to go,
but I trust in my Heavenly Father's love
for me and my son.

Somedays you just gotta let go.

ACK! Comments are back ON!

I didn't know.
But I knew something was up.
And then I found a glitch
n' I fixed it!
So Sorry!

Butterflies and Christmas

When I was a little girl,
my parents used to leave the Christmas tree lights on
all night long
on Christmas eve.

Christms morning would find me
kneeling in front of the glistening tree
with it's flickering lights
gazing at all of the wrapped gifts
that covered the floor.

The butterflies in my tummy were so great
that my teeth would start chattering
in my excitement!

Now that I'm the Mom of the house,
going on 29 years
(man, I'm old! yea!),
you'd think I'd be over the whole
Butterfly-tummy thing, right?

I'm not.
No way.
As we put up our tree last night,
those same tingly butterflies returned--
each ornament is a memory on our tree.
None are the same--
there's the bagpipe one from Edinburgh,
and the one from our honeymoon in Breckenridge,
the ones we gave each other
that first day we met, December 1997,
and the yahoo's baby ornaments,
the new house ornament from Fort Collins,

AND the truly antique ornaments:

the tiny cherubic angels from Mr. Wonderful's mother
who passed away long before I ever met him,
long before he even thought he'd have a family.

There are 6 tiny little angels
and 6 miniature creche's
that Doris Ella used to put on her tree
way back when Mr. W
was just a yahoo in his own house.

And let me just say,
in case this isn't obvious--
those little angels are treated as though
they're made of 24 carat gold.

Mr. W hands the youngest yahoos
those tiny angels
and tells them in a sweet low voice:
"These were my Mom's."

We have to hang them together
or we'll lose them on the tree,
as we found out one year--
it took a long time to find every one of them.
They're only an inch and a half long.

But to Mr. Wonderful,
they're his Mom.
Like little Guardian Angels sent here
to watch over Doris Ella's boy,
they hang with honor on the very hooks
they were matched up with over 50 years ago.

See what I mean?
Butterflies.

We have our small rituals to get us going:
Hot cocoa with peppermint sticks,
the "Mary, Did You Know" cd by Kenny Rogers,
and our special ornaments.

I try not to direct the yahoos as to where
to place their ornaments.
Once the lights and garland are on,
anything goes!

The step-stool is brought out
and the un-spoken contest to see who
can get closest to the highest bough
begins--
"Mine is higher!"
"Ah-ha! Mine is higher now!"
And continues on until
there are 524 ornaments
at the top
and three
on the bottom bough
of the 9 foot tall tree.

It's all good.
The butterflies are flitting about,
the hot cocoa is delicious.
The kids are laughing about the handmade ornaments
they made in elementary school--
the ones with their school pictures centered in wreaths,
with their childish haircuts
all of it
circled in globs of glitter.

The last ornament to go on
is the Star...
that was the one tradition I brought
from my childhood:
My dad put the star on top.
Mr W does the deed and that's that.

All finished,
we settle back on the sofa
and gaze at our homemade masterpeice
ignoring the bins and buckets,
the tissue and strew ribbon--
we soak up all Christmas magic like
the last sip of hot cocoa--
we want every drop of it to last.

Joseph announces:
"It's Snowing!"

Hey, it's Butterfly Season.

And That Was Thanksgiving 2010...

It's over.
The whole shebang...
the weeks of planning,
the hours of shopping,
and cooking...
Over.

Thanksgiving needs to be like Target
during the holidays
and have Extended Hours,
right?

We had a humongous 23 pound bird
and she was delicious!
We had all the fixin's to go with,
and pie afterwards!
I passed "FULL" to "Pain-Full"
before I got to dessert.

Thanksgiving Day was super cold,
I think the High temp got up to freezing,
so we didn't even go outside.

The Golden Child wrangled his parents
and put the rest of us under his ninja spell--
is there anything more entertaining than a baby?
I'll be that his picture was taken more than 200 times
over the course of the day.
It would be an understatement to say we are "smitten"--
we are enraptured by this baby's cheeks and bright blue eyes.
He owns us.
***

After dinner,
the Black Friday ads were poured thru,
and a plan of attack was charted:
We needed a new television--
as you may recall, our great behemoth died.
That was the beginning of October.

So we set our sites on two different TV's--
one was at Target
the other at Walmart.
That was the only thing we had on our Black Friday list--
a television set.
Yon Boofus raised his voice and hand volunteering
to go with Dad
in the dark morning hours
to retrieve the newest member of the household.

They got up at 3:30AM
and set out for Target first.
Mr W reports that after seeing a line of people
who'd obviously been camping out
circle the entire building
for hours before they got there,
Plan B (or Plan Walmart)
was enacted and he and his sidekick
darted across town
or over the woods and dale
to our Walmart in Monument.

It was a challenge to even find the 42" Emerson LD HDTV
Waiting Line,
and Mr W was tempted on two different occassions to toss his hat to the ground
and come home empty-handed,
but Mr. Boofus encouraged him to continue on.

Their perseverance paid off
and when they returned at 5:30 AM,
faces beaming brightly as they entered the house
with the bounty they had gone out hunting for
on their shoulders
and all was well!

Then, we went back to bed for a couple more hours.
Mr. W didn't rest long,
then he got to work assembling and putting up the TV--
just in time to watch the days' football games.
And he was happy.

The middle girls--
Nana and Daisie had stayed up past midnight,
to go get their own bounty at Walmart.
They too, did not come home empty-handed
but with a new toaster, crockpot, food processor,
and mixer...
much to Dani's delight.
Well done, Ladies! Well done!

The day started out famously...
but as it wore on,
poor Dean's anxiety got the better of him--
he knew he was returning to his home in Loveland,
and he said repeatedly he didn't want to go
and then lost it...
he struck out at Dani and myself.

The day ended sourly,
as Mr. W and I drove Dean the two hours north to his home.
Dean rode mostly silent all the way there.

He went in the house quietly,
and when I went to give him a hug goodbye,
he walked away.
I asked him if he's upset that I'm leaving him there--
"yeah" he said.
"Are you just ready for me to leave now?"
"Yeah."

His current caregiver visited with us
outside for a few moments before we left.
I think he wanted to unburden his own heart and feelings of "failure" -as he called it,
because he can't take care of Dean's needs.

He is suggesting that Dean be put in a group home--
for the structure and extra hands available.

I don't agree at all.
From everything I've read,
Group Homes are for less-functioning special needs
and there are more opportunities for
abuse and neglect in Group homes.
Since Dean's been in this man's home,
Dean has not been involved in Special Olympics,
or community programs
other than his work programs.
Dean's usually involved in The Loveland SN Orchestra
at Christmas
and the Loveland Ballet Theatre group that hosts a SN's concert/musical
at Christmas.
Dean's just been very bored.
And I think his meds are totally messed up.
So I'll report that this week to his psychologist and team
to see if they can help out.

Anyway,
my heart was heavy all the way home.
If you're inclined to pray,
would you think of my son, Dean this week,
as he moves to another host home?
I'm praying that this one will be a better fit for him,
and his heart will be comforted.
Thank you.
I love my son.

****

We got home in time to watch the
Boise State vs. Nevada game.
We're BSU fans,
having lived in Boise we know that team is
nearly worshipped,
and had great fun cheering them on while we lived there.
So when I went to sleep last night,
Boise was whipping Nevada but good~!
I was in shock this morning to read that BSU lost.
How is this possible?
*****

It's Saturday,
and I have to work.
Boo.
This is where those Extended Hours
would come in handy,
ya know?
I'm just really tired.
But then, I think--
isn't everyone I know
really tired?
So it's not just Me--
knowing that is comforting.
Everyone's just doing what they can, right?
Right.

Time to put away the Fall accessories
and bring out the Christmas stuff!
That's a mood lifter, for sure.
Boofus is really good at putting up the tree.

Happy Weekend.
December's almost here.

My Gratitude is True

There are parts to mothering a handicapped child,
that bring me infinite Joy:
watching Dean play any of his myriad of sports--
his three-pointers in basketball,
his homeruns in softball,
his goals in soccer,
those slam-dunks in volleyball,
and finishing up a solid lap in swimming.

Each time, I feel like I"m witnessing a miracle
from a little boy whom I was told by
"medical professionals"
would never walk or talk.

Dean amazes me.

He is the softspot of my heart,
the tender underbelly of my soul.
I can barely speak of him to others without my heartstrings pulling
and oh brother, the tears erupt faster than I can stop them.
When it comes to my love for this child,
I am completely raw.

Dean hasn't lived with us in five years,
because his needs exceed my abilities.
I hate that.
Can I just say that without sounding pathetic?
I hate it.

I miss him more than I can say.
I am only whole
when he's at home,
sleeping under my roof,
eating at our dinner table.

Since it's Thanksgiving,
we made plans to see Dean.
His State-run program only allows us to see Dean
for 4 consecutive 24-hour periods.
Totally sucks.
Otherwise, there's a financial adjustment for his caregivers,
and that always makes me feel guilty
on both ends--
if we keep him longer,
it takes money out of his caregivers' pockets,
but when I don't see Dean,
I worry that he feels abandoned.

Phone calls do not make the distance easier,
because in every call,
he pleads to come home and see us.
I know he misses us.
There's just no easy way around this.
We used to live in the same city as he does,
but then we moved,
and the county we live in now,
has insufficient funds for quality care for Dean.
So in his best interest,
we've left him up in Loveland.
None of this is easy.

Anyway,
getting to the Gratitude Part--
Dani was going to pick up Dean yesterday
as she is just an hour away from him,
and bring him home to me.
But since Mr. Idaho is the EQP (Elders' Quorum President) in his ward,
he has responsibilities that prevented her from being able to take the one car
they have (they traded in their individual cars last summer and bought just one.)

I was worried anyway,
about Dani going by herself to pick Dean up,
as he is moving again from the caregiver's home he
JUST moved into in September--
because that caregiver says he was unaware that Dean's needs
exceeded his ability as well.
I've been mad about that--
I hate moving Dean and I know it stresses him out,
like any normal person would be,
only alot worse.
So I worried about Dani being able to handle Dean
if he had an outburst and became physical.

I called work and tried to see if I could leave early
for the two hour drive up north to get him
myself.
The answer was No.

Mr. W said he could go get Dean after work--
which would put them home around 7:30-8pm.
That's a long day,
but at the time, seemed like our only option.

Then, Dani called back and said she'd make it work somehow
so that she could get him and keep him overnight at her place
and bring him with her family on Thanksgiving.

Okay, so in the meantime,
I'm trying to work things like time and place
out with Dean's caregiver.
When one of us will get there,
and where we can meet up so we don't have to go
all the way into Loveland.

That was stressing me out
because I want to make it easy on the caregiver,
ya know?
He's already asked that we remove Dean from his home,
I don't wanna inconvenience him if I don't have to.
ugh.

So I went to work,
hope full that Dani could work it out on her end,
and just flat-out sad that I couldn't just do it myself,
as I usually do.
Before I had a job.
I was just too emotional for words,
so what do I do when I'm like that?
I clean.
N' just so you know,
the floors, counters, tabletops, lamp shades,
shelves, and every other stinkin' thing
in All About Home Showroom
is spotless today.

Around two hour after I got to work,
my Nana came by to tell me she was on her way to
Loveland to pick up Dean.
Her work cancelled and she would do it.
I was relieved and grateful,
but worried at the same time,
for all of the same reasons I was worried about Dani going
AND
because we were assured a snow storm was going to hit
our side of the Rockies yesterday
and she still hasn't put on her snow tires yet.

I gave her a big hug,
and proceeded to pray while I was cleaning
all day long yesterday,
for her safety and Dean's emotional state.

All Day.

When I finished sweeping the whole store,
I dusted.
When I finished dusting,
I vacuumed.
When I wrapped the cord around the vacuum,
I dusted again.
Then I swept under every thing I could get to.
And dusted again.
I did that for the six plus hours I was there,
as there were just three customers all day long.

I told Nana to call me once she got there,
and once she got Dean and was on her way back home.
And she did,
but when the clock rolled around to 4pm and she still wasn't home with him
I was worried and called her.

She was at Dani's house with Dean.
She said she took him there because he needed to be cleaned up
before I saw him
as she knew I'd be upset.
So she took him to Dani's house.
Dani is a second Mom to Dean--
she and Mr. Idaho gave Dean a shower,
cut his hair,
cleaned his ears,
shaved his overgrown beard,
trimmed his toenails,
brushed his teeth,
put on deodorant
and clean clothes,
fed him and loved him.
I told Nana to give Dani and Brad a big hug for me.

And then, once that was done,
Nana brought him home to me.

Do you get this??
Am I leaving anything out?

I have an amazing family...
sisters and brothers who love each other
and serve one another
and by doing so fill my heart with unspeakable joy!

Even when I cannot be there for Dean,
the softspot of my heart,
his brothers and sisters ARE.
They served him in the most pure way--
caring for his physical body.

Look, I don't know why his caregiver hasn't done
a better job at taking care of Dean...
to make sure his hair is trim,
his beard is shaven,
his teeth and ears and nails are properly hygienic.
I don't know.
BUT,
we are moving him to a better place next week.
There's a mother in that home.
And for that,
I am grateful too.

I admit,
I wondered yesterday why this is so hard.
And that old puke, Satan was ever present in my ear,
making me feel more crappy about the challenges that are mine
than I already did.
I compared myself to my friends--
whose trials seem so insignificant in this light to me.
I wish I had a friend who had a son like mine.
So I would know at least one Mother in the world
whose grief compares--
apples to apples, ya know?

But here's the thing--
as those ugly thoughts clamored for attention
yesterday
and I cleaned until I couldn't clean anymore--
like a tiger circling it's cage,
I circled the store,
cleaning and straightening,
with tears sneaking out of my eyes at times,
finally
a feeling of peace came over me,
and it was time to go home.

I was at home for just a little while,
busy making dinner,
when Joseph came bounding down the stairs:
"He's Here! Dean's here!! They just pulled up!!"
Daisie and Ari came a-running
and we all gathered at the doorway to welcome Dean home.

His thousand watt smile greeted us,
and my arms encircled my boy with all the strength I had,
I breathed him in and found peace after a long day of unrest.

I hugged Nana,
and when Mr. W came home,
he hugged Nana,
and Ari hugged Nana too...
all of us grateful she was able to fetch our Dean for us.

I was fretting about not being the Mom,

the one who is in charge of Dean--

and here I am,

several hours later,

realizing the day was just as should've been--

Dean's sisters and brother-in-love saw the opportunity

to serve both Dean and Me,

and they seized it with their hearts wide open.

I don't know any other mother

who has my same trials,

but the gratitude I feel right now,

is unequaled too.

If this is what family is all about,
then what more can I ask for?

It's Thanksgiving Morning.
My Gratitude is True.

For the Love of EggNog as per Laurel's Request

Hazelnut-Egg Nog Punch

Prep: 7 mins.  Other 1hr.,15 min.

2 c milk
1 vanilla bean, split lengthwise
1 (3") cinnamon stick
6 c refrigerated or canned eggnog
1 1/2 c Frangelico or other hazelnut liqueur
1 c whipping cream, whipped
1 quart vanilla ice cream, softened
Grated Nutmeg (optional, but c'mon!)

Combine first 3 ingredients in a small saucepan; place over medium heat, and cook until hot (do not boil), sitrring often.
Remove from heat.
Cover and let stand 30 minutes.
Scrape vanilla bean seeds into milk mixture.
Cover and chill.  Discard vanilla bean and cinnamon stick.
Combine chilled milk mixture, eggnog, and hazelnut stuff in a punchbowl; fold in whipped cream.
Scoop ice cream into punch; stir gently.
Sprinkle lightly with nutmeg.
Yield: 15 cups.


Other Random things about EggNog:

You can freeze eggnog in its original container for up to a year. When ready to use, thaw, frozen in the refridgerator overnight, and shake well before opening.
Keep canned unopened eggnog in a dark cool spot in the pantry for up to 18 mos.

Refridgerated Eggnog tastes best.

Eggnog Butter (great on belgian waffles!)

1 c butter, softened
1/2 c sifted powdered cugar
1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg
1 tsp rum extract (or not)
1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Beat butter at high speed until creamy. Gradually add sugar, beating well. Stir in nutmeg and extracts. Cover and chill. Yield: 1 1/4 c.

For other facts about EggNog.

You know what's Not Funny?

When you drop your 15 yo off for a cleaning at the Dentist's office,
and they call to tell you she needs a build-up and a crown,
and your part is
$710.00.

Not funny.
I laughed outloud anyway.

Mmmm Good Chocolate Caramel Tartlets

So we poured over our recipe books

yesterday afternoon

to come up with our 

Thanksgiving Dinner menu.

 Do you do this too?  

Look at these food photos...

with their delicious goodness beckoning your tastebuds.

Mercy.

 I am so making this Croquembouche...

'Cuz what's better than a

Cream Puff Christmas Tree with White Chocolate Drizzle~

my mouth's watering just looking at it.

 And this one...with Bacon! Is there anything in this world that is not better with bacon in it??

 The Caboose is looking for something she can make and contribute to the Big Turkey Dinner.

 So is Daisie.

Raise your hand if you love Eggnog!!

What's not to love love love??

And here's the best little recipe ever!

Your guests will think you're a Food Network Junkie!!

BUT--

psst:

there's only 4 ingredients.

No cooking.

And the yahoos can help.

Ready?

Okay, get on your shoes,

because as soon as you see this,

you're going to NEED to leave the house

and go get the ingredients.

 MMMM....see?  What'd I tell you?

A little peace of heaven right there.

                

                    These are the ones we made tonight after dinner.  So easy peasy and delicioso!

Here's the recipe:

Two 15-count precooked phyllo tartlet shells.

1 can dulce de leche (caramel)

Chocolate chips

Nuts

Melt the chocolate chips in a small container in the microwave for 1-2 minutes, then stir til smoothe.

Drop a full teaspoon of dulce de leche in each tart.

Top with melted chocolate...you can drizzle it all fancy-like, or just dollop it on top.

Cover with nuts.

Freeze them for a couple of minutes to set the chocolate.

Be prepared to make both trays 

'cuz these little babies go fast!

Harry Potter Built a Bridge

To be Short, Sweet to the Point:

The 15 yo and I are carving out our relationship...
nevermind that she's the 5th child--
the 5th teenager I've lived through.--
that counts for barely nothing in her book.
She sees all of that as irrelevant
because
she. is. different.

We're going round and round lately
on the same pivots:
school, seminary, home.
I'm predictable.
And I like being predictable.
My yahoos know me pretty good--
and heaven knows,
I want them to.

I don't have any fresh ideas or strategies
I'm just burning to try out--
keep it simple
is my motto.
Well, not really,
I didn't make that up--
some other guy did,
but I like it.

But here's the deal,
the 15 yo wants me to change things up--
she wants to be the exception to every rule
because, you know,
she. is. different.

Unhunh.

She hadn't done her "part"
this past week,
and then was invited over to a friend's house
to hang out on the spur of the moment
last night.
I wanted to say "yes"--
and I even told her so.
This is the hard part about being a parent,
I told her.
I know you really want to go.
I know this is important to you.
And I really really want to just say yes.
BUT
You didn't do your part this past week.
Or even today,
when I asked you to do two very specific things--
you blew them off
until I got on you about it,
and even then, at this moment,
you haven't done one of the things.
And here it is,
6:45 at night.

So what's the right thing to do here?

She huffed and puffed about--
stating her case, as it were,
before me and her Dad,
trying to convince us that
WE were the ones in error..
and it all ended when she finally did the one thing
I'd asked her to do several hours before
(mop the kitchen floor--which took her all of 5 minutes)--
and then sulked down to her room.

I hate this.
I'm too old for this, ya know?

After taking a minute to reflect,
I went down to her room--
finding her with the music blaring,
and her in bed curled up with a book.

(How do they read or even think with that noise on?)

She sat up,
and we talked...
and talked and talked.
And nothing was getting resolved.
Everything I said was met with,
"No. That's not it." from her.
And a "Hold on a sec and listen to what I'm saying." from me.

It was going nowhere.

So I called in reinforcements:
my oldest dd, Dani--
I told her briefly what's going on,
and she agreed to call sometime today.

Then I called my oldest, ds, David Scott--
who wasn't answering his phone.
I figured he was probably out on a date with his wife.
Possibly seeing "Harry Potter".

So with my reinforcements unavailable,
I wondered what could I do to make things better
right then.

So I sat and got a wild hair--
after confiding in Mr. W,
I got online
and quickly bought 3 tickets on Fandango
to see the next showing of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows"
for me, Nana and Daisie.
I scooted down stairs and whispered the plan in Nana's ears--
"Don't tell Daisie we're going, just tell her to get a coat and shoes on."
I went and got some decent clothes on,
brushed my hair, grabbed some shoes and my coat.

Daisie had no idea where we were going
and of course kept asking--
just when we were at the car door in the driveway,
I said,
"We're going to go talk to the Bishop about this and see what he says."

(ain't I a stinker?)

Her response was priceless--
"WHAT? No! No! I'm not going!"
Nana: "Get in the car, dork."

She did but wasn't happy about it.

Then we acted like I took a wrong turn,
and ended up at the theater.

She was surprised, as I'd hoped.
I turned to her and said,
"This is me, making an effort to spend time with you."

Of course, hugs were all around.
The movie was super intense--
and as we came back to the house at nearly midnight,
I thought,
that ol' Harry Potter does alot of good,
he's a good friend to Hermione and Ron,
he's kind to Dobbie,
he's all about fighting the evil he-whom-shall-not-be-named,
and he helped build a bridge between me and my teenager.

That's one good guy right there.

It's Cranberry Season--"The Unofficial Official Fruit of the Holidays"

Do you love cranberries,
like I love cranberries?
Fresh are best,
but I have some canned-cranberry sauce
lovers in my house too,
so we have both!

Here are some of my favorite things to do with 'em:

Cranberry Salsa
1 bag of fresh raw cranberries—washed
1 granny smith apple –cored and chunked
½ red pepper
½ red onion
¾ c apple juice
1/3 c sugar
3 T cilantro

3 T fresh jalapeno pepper
1 T grated lime zest
1 T lime juice


Put all ingredients into food processor. Chop just until chunky. Enjoy with tortilla chips or topping for baked chicken/salmon, brie cheese or sandwich spread.
We love this recipe!  I usually make enough for two batches.


******************************

Do you love the Ocean Spray Cranberry Commercials?
I totally do! Those guys wading in the cranberry ponds always make me laugh.
If you want more ideas using cranberries in your holiday recipes,
here is a link to Ocean Spray Cranberry Recipes.


I'm thinking I'd like to try the Grilled Chicken with craisins sauce....mmm.


*****************************


Other ideas for using Cranberries

Look how simple that is!  I've made these before and they look great and last a long long time! Use distilled water if you're using good glassware.


Cranberry Votive Holder: remember to cut the quick when the flame gets too high, and never leave the candles unattended or low where little fingers can get to them.

With a foam sphere and a hot glue gun...

Or just use some clear glass containers...I bet mason jars would look great too, add some white carnations or white roses (I've done that!), pluck some greenery outta the back yard, and tuck it in too. Voila! You've got a homemade centerpiece for your Holiday table!


Cranberries in a Glass of Water can last up to a week or more.

QUICK! What Are You Doing, Right Now??!

Wanna feel great right now?
Right Now?
Have I got an opportunity for you!

Go Here
and Vote for Deb...
just a click
and that's it
and you'll totally make someone else's day
THAT. MUCH. BETTER!!

Now Scoot!

Then, when you're done there,
Go here for a laugh.
You'll feel better.

First things First: (go to the bottom and turn off the music player)
Sue was the first to correctly identify Brian Regan as the phrase-coiner (I think I just made that word up) of "Take Luck"....enjoy.




Second:
The Boofus is feeling better now that I've spent twenty bucks on a co-pay for the doctor to tell us,
that, while the flu test AND the strept test came out negative,
The Boof-dawg has "flu-like symptoms" from a viral infection.
Translating into:
Go home. Get in bed. Drink lots of fluid. Take ibuprophen and call back in the morning.
Oh and eat some chicken noodle soup, the doc says.
"Great! I'll make some for you today, Boof." says I.
"Nah. I'd rather have ravioli. Not yours tho', can we buy it in the can?"

The boy who wouldn't eat for two days,
has eaten two cans of Chef Boy ArDee's ravioli.
Nevermind that I offered to make my homestyle chicken noodle soup
or
my homemade ravioli...
not good enough, says he.
Apparently, my son is addicted to preservatives
and artificial flavors, food dyes and additives.
Mmmmm, good stuff there, hunh?

One good thing came from my twenty dollar co-pay though--
I have a professional witness that my yahoo refuses to eat healthy food.
N' I feel good about that.
Ya know, in case I ever need an impartial witness that I tried to keep
this stubborn boy healthy, I got one.
And she's not only a doctor,
she's a Mom.
How much more street-cred do ya need, right?

Oh, and that wall? hit it. Bam.
Would it be a bad thing if I put my pj's on before dinner?

Take Luck!

I usually have 3 days off work a week--
Friday or Saturday
Sunday and Monday.

I'm home this morning because the Boofus is way sick.
He slept in my bed last night
so I could keep an eye on him and tend to his needs.
Mr W slept in his bed--
so he could get some sleep b/c of course,
he still had work today.

The Boofus had a rough night,
which means I had a rough night.

I'm taking him to the doctor this morning at 11:30
and see what's up.
I hate it when the yahoos are sick, don't you?

But on the flip side,
I'm home.
And I'm usually scheduled out on my days off
so that I don't get alot done around the house--
like cleaning junk drawers or the laundry room,
being creative and moving things around.

But for whatever reason,
I've got energy to do this stuff today
before I hit that inevitable brick wall of
exhaustion--
yeah I know it's there--
but for right now,
I'm pretending it's not.
Cuz I've got things to do.


*Changing Sheets
*Washing Pillows
*Lysol-ing the house down to kill them thar bugs.
*Cleaning that one junk drawer that has birthday napkins, sparklers, shishkabob stix, birthday candles, take out menus, and heaven only knows what else.
*Sweeping up the 4" layer of dryer lint in the laundry room so as to avert a fire danger.
*Move my family room furniture around since I got a new ottoman for my birthday. What? Like I'd want diamonds or froo-froo stuff for my 49th bday? I don't think so.  I wanted a peice of furniture that the whole family could put their feet on and think about ME.  Whoa--is that freudian or what?? lol
*Clean up the loft/office space of shoes, plates, dvds, and whatsits.
*Water the plants!
* Take out dinner and get that going in the crockpot.


Yeah, I've got loads to do today.
Wish me luck!

Oh and if you've gotten this far,
if you know who coined the phrase of my blog title today,
and leave it in my comments box,
you'll totally make my day.

First Correct Answer Wins!
What? Oh just a little something I've picked up
from All About Home.

MMMM Indian Food

Chicken tika masala.
Saag Paneer
Garlic Naan
Tandoori chicken

mmmmm

I love Indian food.

Since it was my bday last night,
we went out to dinner at
Mirch Masala, a "BEST OF" restaurant
here in the Springs.
It's a quiet little place,
non-descript from the outside,
but once inside,
totally different world,
I'm telling you.

The smells of curry and spices,
the exotic music and art all come together
so lovely,
that it makes going there
"an experience".

It was a quiet night there,
we were the only family,
and another table of two was there--
it was a really cold, snowy windy night,
so that probably kept people in.
But not us. Not me.
It's my birthday!

We ordered two dishes of chicken tika masala,
one mildly spicy
for the youngest yahoos,
the other medium,
for those of us with tougher palates
and stomach linings.
It was so dang good...
Nana loves the plum sauce...
starts out sweet with a little spicy kick at the end.
She managed to dip the thin crackers (the name escapes me right now),
in the sauce,
and anything else she could mix with it,
she did.
 The Caboose wanted only the garlic naan bread,
the mild tika masala and rice,
and she briefly tried the saag paneer (creamed spinach)
before declaring it was "gross".

Boofus is an emotional eater--
one day he loves something,
the next he doesn't.
So he kept his plate simple--
just the bread and tika masala,
altho he did try the something-galoo
because there was potatoes and cauliflower in it,
but it was too spicy (even for me)
and he mostly drank his rootbeer.

Daisie tried a little bit of everything,
but went back for seconds on the tika masala.
Just like me.

Mr W. chowed down on the tandoori chicken.
He loves spicy food--
when he lived in England, he'd make a take-out order
from this family-owned Indian restaurant there
that would be enough to feed us a couple of meals
as well as feed the missionaries.
And truthfully,
it was the best Indian food I've ever had.
My mouth is watering just thinking about it.
so so good.

During the meal,
the family went around the table
taking turns saying what they love about "Mom".
The Caboose started with,
"I love Momza because she brings us to fun restaurants.
My mouth is burning but it's good!"
Then the Boofus:
"I love you Mom because you take me to the store
and buy me everything I want."  --that got a laugh,
because right next to the restaurant is a Sporting Goods Store,
and he had major designs to go there after dinner.
Daisie, every bit 15, offered up:
"I love Mom because she's crazy. Like, in a good way. Like,
getting us to try new things like food that burns your lips off,
and like, she doesn't even care if she's crazy. And like, she's just crazy."
Thank you, Dara.
Nana, who is now my 20-year old mushball,
says she loves me "because [I]  do my best to take care of the family,
even if it means working at a place I'm not happy to work at,
and that I want my kids to have exciting lives, and that I'm human and me being human,
lets them know that it's okay to be human too, and be happy with themselves."--
and some other sweet things that makes me grateful I didn't sell her to
the circus when she was a teenager.

And I'll keep what Mr W said to myself.

Just that I rock.

So we left,
and yeah, we went over to the Big 5 sporting goods store,
then we walked around Big Lots,
had some laughs --
"Mom! Did you know they sell furniture here?"
Yeah, I'd like to think I'm doing well to show my kids
all kinds of "life",
but when my 11 year old gets excited that a leather-like sofa
can be found on the same aisle as Tastee O's and mango juice concentrate,
I know I've got more work to do, apparently.


We love food in our house.
Love it.
And that love of food is a good thing!
I'm sure there are as many books cautioning the wrongs of making
food part of our familial rituals
as there are books extoling the virtues of family mealtimes.
For us,
it makes memories.
Birthdays, holidays, Sunday dinners...
finds us all around a table--either at our sacred dining table,
or in a spice-filled little Indian restaurant on a snowy November night--
it doesn't matter...
the food calls to us to gather in
and enjoy the moment.

What the attitude about food in your house?

Today I'm 49

When I was younger,
I used to think I'd be "grown up"
when I was in sixth grade.
I'd squint my eyes and look into my bedroom mirror,
trying to imagine what I'd look like
all grown up,
in the sixth grade.

Of course by the time I got into
High School,
my ideas matured
and my wonderings about the future
included who I'd marry,
where we would live,
and how many children I would eventually have.

I never imagine the journey my life
has taken.
There's just no way
a little kid from Miami, Florida
who used to sit on the hot sidewalk
in my barefeet
squishing ants with my toes,
and trying to whistle thru a blade of grass,
can imagine realistically
all the adventures awaiting her in Life.

I knew I wanted to travel.
I wanted to go to California,
and to New York,
and to Great Britain,
where my mother's family
is from.

I wanted to learn things
beyond Spelling Bees and Algebra.
I wanted to figure people out,
what made them tick,
what made them do the things they do.

I wanted a home and a family.


I'm 49 today.
I have lived all over the United States--
from Florida to the Carolinas,
west to Missouri,
south to Texas,
further west to Arizona,
north up to Utah
northeast to Idaho,
and smack dab in the Rockies,
I have ended my journey in Colorado.

I'm going to die here.
Because if I have to leave here,
I will pretty much die.
I'm co-dependant on Pike's Peak.
I look at it every time I go outside.
It's true.
I look at from my kitchen table,
and when I'm doing the dishes.
Like a magnet in my being,
I am drawn to the strong rock of the West.

I watch for thunderstorms to gather
or snow storms to sweep over
the majesty of the Peak.
I love it. It's home to me.
The girl inside feels tucked in,
when the night draws,
and I am at the foot of that great mountain.

As for being a Mother,
I recall roommates who spoke of having large families
and I wanted none of that.
Being the eldest of five,
and the only girl,
I wasn't sure I wanted more than two kids.
And one of them had better be a girl,
or I would have no more than two.

But then I got my patriarchal blessing,
and it said I'd have both sons and daughters.
Cool. I thought.
I'll have four.
And we did...
boy
girl
boy
girl.

But there were more to come
and I knew that.
I am the happy mother of seven children.
Each has blessed my life
and worn me out in ways
I couldn't have fathomed
when I was squishing ants with my toes.

My motherhood defines me.
I am nothing at 49 years old,
that better describes me,
than the word,
"Mother."

My own parents have been absent 3/4's of my life.
My brothers have long been silent vines attached to my underbelly,
but not visible or active in my reality nor am I in theirs.
I am not a daughter to anyone but a Heavenly Father.
I am more a sister in Church
than a sister of four brothers.

I am a wife because I chose to be married.

But I am a Mother for all of Eternity.

I have been to California several times.
More than I can recall.
I have been to Great Britain three times.
I've never been to New York,
other than the airport there,
for a connecting flight to Montreal.
But hey!
I never even dreamed about Montreal,
so there's a bonus!

Many adventures so far could be classified into the
"Bonus" section.
I've met wonderful loving people all over the world.
People who changed me,
lifted me,
inspired me to lift myself.

People I have come to call true friends
as I have been invited into their lives,
and allowed to serve with what little I had to offer.

So yeah, my life is way more exciting and joyful
than I ever thought it was going to be.

Today I'm 49.
I'm working all day,
then the family is going out for dinner
to a local indian food restaurant.
And tonight,
I'll close my eyes and sleep in the arms of
my husband,
in the bed my son was born in,
and my daughters come to lie in beside me,
in the shadow of the great Pikes Peak
which is a long ways away from that house
on Penny Lane where I grew up.

Weekend Round-Up

In no particular order:

Saturday I worked.
Saturday was also the Boofus' birthday.
So Mr. W took him all over town for the day
shopping
and out to lunch at Five Guys.

While I worked.

Dani and the Ninja Baby came down
with her sister-in-law, J. --from Boise, to visit us
and Dani brought her homemade
"Chocolate Truffle Cake"--
and yes, it was as good as it sounds!
If I get her recipe, I'll share it.
Dani decorated the cake as Joseph helped.
It had an army theme...
army guys, marshmallow boulders, green coconut grass,
red syrup for the battle scene,
and we used sparklers instead of candles.
Boofus loved it.

Mr. W made Boofus' favorite meal:
Chicken Fettucine Alfredo Florentine
and garlic bread.
Delicioso!

Boofus declined a "friend party" this year,
in his words,
and I am quoting here:
"Just give me the money."
Have I said today how much I love this yahoo?
*****

Sunday was Church.
We went and sat in the 2nd row like always,
but it was one of those days where my mind
was elsewhere.
Trying to rein myself IN,
I thought to take notes from the speakers...
but one kept saying "Um"
and I looked down to see I had made a
tick line every time "um" was said,
and I was up to 45 times,
when it dawned on me that that was rude.
I have no idea what the speaker was talking about,
other than the topic.
It started when the speaker said something along the lines
of
"I wish I wasn't here today...."
ANYTIME
and I Mean,
ANYTIME
a speaker starts off with their confession that
they'd rather be anywhere but in front of the congregation--
I tune out.
I can't help it,
every time I've ever been in a meeting where
the speaker announced their displeasure of being asked to talk,
their message is forced. boring. mundane.
There's no passion, no emoting,
and usually void of the Spirit
so that the whole twenty or thirty minutes
leaves me feeling like I wasted my time.
I imagine tossing a shoe at their noggins,
or a hymnal--
"Go Big or Go Home!"--I'd like to yell.
But
that wouldn't be nice.
Or anything resembling nice.
So I sit still, with my eyes closed,
trying to hear something, anything that means something
and at the same time,
fight the urge to slide the kids down the pew
lay down, put my feet up,
wrap my coat around my head
and catch some Zzzzz's.

This probably never happens to anyone else
and so I won't be surprised to hear an
"aghast" at my confession,
but ya know?
They don't have to twirl fire-blazing batons
and whistle Dixie
to do well,
but they should come to share what they've learned
while preparing for their moment in front of us--
and for crying out loud,
if they've nothing to say,
make it brief and sit down.

Okay, now I'm rambling.
*****

Tomorrow's my birthday.
I'm almost 50.
I can't wait until I'm 50.
I wish I was 50 tomorrow.
I used to think 50 was so old.
I'm knocking on 50's Door,
and I don't feel like I thought I would,
ya know?
Aside from the whiney rambling, right?
*******

I lost five pounds since I started working.
Through no effort of my own.
Seven pounds if I stand just right on the scale.
So how cool is that??
Way.
I love losing weight effortlessly
like the commericals for Slimfast and Jenny Craig
and all those others say on TV.
There's a couple of diets going around these parts--
the horse-urine diet,
and the HCG diet.
I looked into them...
just enough to know I'm not a good candidate.
I like food too much.
And 500 calories a day is like 3 bowls of cereal
with skim milk and no sugar.
Doesn't sound fun to me at all.
Nope, that's a sure recipe for failure.
And, seeing as how I'm nearly 50,
I ain't got time for more failures in my life.
Ya know?
Time to stick with what I know.
My bucket list includes eating really good food
come the Holidays,
spending time around the table with family and friends,
and a Size 5 just ain't on that list.
I was a Size 5 once.
When I was 15 years old.
I didn't appreciate how small I was.
I still thought my tummy was too fat
and I had no bosom to speak of.
So it wasn't all that and a bag o'chips,
ya know?
Meh.
*********
My BFFFFFFFFF, Nan,
is taking me out today for my birthday.
She just called to tell me to be ready in an hour
and that I might wanna shave my legs.
I'm hoping Kevin Costner's on the agenda today.
I'd shave my legs for him every day of my life.
lol
Well, knowing me, as well as I know me,
prolly not for the rest of my life.
But, hey, I know whatever Nan has lined up for me today
is gonna be Sawwweeeeeet.
Everyone should have a friend like Nan.
I love her.
I asked if she's taking me to get a psychiatric evaulation
but she says "no"--
but wouldn't you say "no" if you were taking a crazy person
for a psychiatric evaluation??
Yeah. See what I mean?

If I'm not blogging again by Thursday,
you'll know I've been committed.
Which, for me sounds like a great time to catch up
on some sleep, some TV, and People magazine.


Okay, I'm done.
If you've made it this far,
well, you've done your good turn today,
so pat yourself on the back!
And go eat some chocolate.

How To Be Completely Miserable

My Nana prepared this for her Speech Class.
She got an "A" on it.
I had to share it.
I know you'll love it!

(I've edited some of it for this format!)

Topic: How to be completely miserable

Specific Goal: To inform the class in a humorous way how to be totally miserable and hopefully convey to them that we CHOOSE to be miserable.

Thesis: Happiness is a choice. So is being miserable. Only you can decide how you want to live your life.

       I.   Today I will share with you my top five favorite affirmations.

A.      First I will be self-destructive

B.      Today I will take no responsibility for anything

C.      Team playing is for insecure people who aren’t capable of doing things on their own

D.     I accept that I am a humorless wretch

E.      Today I will pick out one physical flaw in everyone I see

         II.   I believe that in doing these five things on a regular basis you will find absolutely no joy in life.  You will achieve your goal of being completely miserable EVERY DAY.

            III.    If you are currently in the ritual of self-wallowing and are thoroughly enjoying your meaningless existence, I strongly encourage you to listen to these helpful tips on how to reach your goal.

Transition: First things first, how to be Self-Destructive.

I.                    Be self- consumed. “But enough about me…what do YOU think about me?”

A.      It is all about you.

1.      And because it is all about you, you’ll have ample time to focus all your energy on finding every imperfection about yourself.

II.                  Over analyze your imperfections.

A.      Keep an on-going list of everything you dislike about yourself.

B.      Consistently tell yourself that you are not good enough.

III.                Compare yourself to those around you.

A.      Always be looking for ways to be less like you and more like someone else.

Transition: Now after you’ve self- destructed take a moment to blame everyone else in the world for your problems.

I.                    Do yourself a favor and don’t take responsibility for your actions today. It makes being miserable so much easier if you aren’t accountable to anyone or anything.

A.      Pass your obligations onto somebody else.

1.      Simply don’t show up for work.

2.      Appear emotionally unavailable to someone in pain.-

b. No longer will people be begging you for sympathy. (Works every time!)

                        B. Blame other people for your mistakes.

                                    1.  AKA. LIE!

    a. Lying fixes most day to day problems, if you lie you can’t be punished for the mistakes made.

Transition: Part of being miserable means being alone.

I.                    When left alone you don’t have to abide by anyone else’s rules or adhere to their opinions.

A.      Don’t be a team player.

1.      People who thrive on being in groups or on teams are just incapable of making decisions for themselves.

a.      Be a free thinker. Don’t pass the ball! Sharing will make you weak! Don’t fit in! And most importantly don’t make friends...They only hold you back.

Transition:  With a social life you’re bound to be caught smiling and laughing; two things that are BIG “No, No’s” in a quest to be miserable!

I.                    Accept that you are not funny.

A.      In fact you don’t even have a humorous bone in your body.

1.      You’ve finally reached an exalted state of mind in which you are now incapable of even cracking a smile.

Transition: When you have conquered this pesky habit of being minorly content in life, replace the void by seeking out the flaws in others.

I.                    Make it a goal to find something wrong with everyone you meet, every day.

A.      Then openly criticize these people in front of a large audience so as to completely humiliate them at the same time!

1.      Make sure to leave each new acquaintance with a lower self-esteem level so as to make yourself feel empowered by their humiliation.

Transition: Don’t you feel more miserable already?!

I.                    Lets take a moment to review our key points

A.      Be self-destructive!

B.      Take no responsibility!

C.      Don’t be a team player!

D.     No laughing, smiling, or friend making!

E.      Find flaws in others!

II.                  In following these few simple steps I can guarantee that in a matter of minutes you will be on the path to self-hate, pity, and misery!