My dear sweet babies,
I am sitting here thinking about you and imagining your futures. My heart feels like it could explode right out of my chest. You have no idea how much I love you. More times in a day than I can count, I'll look at you and really see you and love punches me right in the gut. There's this knot that forms in my stomach that slowly travels up to my heart, into my throat, and ends up in my eyes where the tears spill over. It sounds awful, doesn't it? But, it's actually pretty amazing. To be able to love someone so much that sometimes it hurts.
As your mother, the very last thing I want is for you ever to feel pain. I want to protect you from everything and keep you safe and innocent and happy. Unfortunately, that's not how life works. It's full of millions of happy moments, and life is easy in the happy moments. It's easy to love those around you, to be kind and compassionate, to sail right through your days without stopping to think about the blessings you have. Because when it's easy, you feel fine. You feel whole. You feel complete.
And then something is going to happen that punches you in the gut in a completely different way. You are going to get hurt. It will start in your gut and travel up to your heart hardening it, shooting up through your throat and into your eyes and it's going to not only cause you tears, but it will change the way you see the world.
You will get hurt by all kinds of different things. By people. By your own choices. By situations that life throws at you that you never saw coming. You will hurt physically and emotionally. The physical pain will be a little easier to forget. The emotional pain will stick with you, though. When life throws an emotional punch at your gut, you will never be the same.
You have a few choices when things get hard. You can, ideally, sit down, embrace the pain, and climb out the other side. Or you can quit, which always seems a whole lot easier. You can run away. You can find a way to ease the pain and make you temporarily forget about it. Some people turn to food, some to alcohol and/or drugs, some to spending money that they don't have, some put on an invisible armor that no one can get through. It is not fun to hurt. You will probably try all or some or maybe more of these things as a way of shielding yourself from that pain.
I want you to hear me right now, though, my precious babies. Shielding yourself with these things is only going to end up causing you more pain. They will cause you to turn into yourself and away from those who love you. You will feel completely alone. Some of them will destroy your health. They will all cause you unending amounts of stress. Please hear me, my babies. Do not choose a band-aid for your pain. That's much easier said than done. You have to learn on your own, so I'm guessing that at some point, one of these band-aids will seem like the easier choice.
Eventually, though, you will have to face the pain. The longer you wait, the harder it will be. The more of yourself you will lose along the way. The harder it will be to get back to your beautiful, loving, open, amazing self. I want you to always know that when you are ready to rip that band-aid off, Daddy and I will be here waiting with arms wide open. We will gather you in and do our very best to hold you together when the pain hits and makes you think you might shatter into a thousand pieces. We will do our best not to let that happen. If it does, we will help you glue it all back together.
We will help you battle through the pain and you will come out wiser, more solid, and with more love in your heart for all that life holds. Because it takes feeling the pain to truly understand love. To truly appreciate all of the beautiful things that your life holds.
The most important thing I want you to remember is that when life gets hard, God is not abandoning you. He is crying with you and carrying you. It's going to be hard to remember that. Your faith will be shaken. You will feel like God has forgotten about you. You will feel like He cannot possibly love you if He would allow you to feel such pain. He knows exactly how you feel. Don't ever forget that He walked through this life, as well, and His earthly life ended when He was broken and bloody and battered and hanging from a cross.
As much as Dad and I will be here for you, God is the real healer. He is true love. He is the one you need to hit your knees, bow your head, and pray to so that you can finally find yourself.
Mom and Dad have been on their knees since the day you were born praying for everything that is happening now and will happen in the future. God has been holding you since before you were born. He loves you in a way no one here on Earth can love you. You are surrounded always. Remember to let that love and light in.
You are not alone, babies. You are never alone. Remember that. Use that. Find strength and truth and love in that. There is always someone out there loving you with all that they have. Find peace in that. Find courage in that. Find everything in that.
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
Friday, May 15, 2015
Here's Some Truth About Shit Covering Your Face.
In the wise words of Elsa, "Let it go, let it go, can't hold me back anymore." I hate that song. My kids have listened to it so many times that the whole scene is forever ingrained in my mind. Take a step back, though, and just read the words. For all that's sane and holy, DO NOT SING THEM. Read them in your best non-Elsa voice and let it sink in for a minute.
You guys, life throws shit. All the time. It might have hit you right in the face. There's a good chance it landed in your eyes, blinding you to anything but the shit. It may have stuck in your nose and mouth flavoring the air you breathe and the food you taste. It's a nasty, bitter, ugly thing. It might take some time to sort through. I am not taking that away from you. It might take you a year, it might take you 2 years, it might take you 10 years. At some point, though, you have to tell that shit to get the heck off of your face. Tell it that there is no way it's taking any more of your time and your precious happiness.
At some point, having the shit covering your face goes from completely out of your control to a choice you make every day...to be a victim...to be miserable...to wallow in something you don't have to wallow in anymore. This may sound harsh, but it's really up to you. Are you going to let the shit blind you, suffocate you, gag you again today? Or. Are you ready to take a rag, wash it off, and throw it in the trash for good?
I'm a firm believer that life is a choice. Happiness is a choice. Love is a choice. Laughter is a choice. If you wake up every day expecting the worst, waiting for your kids to suck up all of your time and patience, expecting your spouse to fail you yet again, waiting for someone at work to frustrate you beyond human capacity, ignoring all of the funny little blessings happening around you, you are setting yourself up for a really bad day...bad week...bad life.
I've been through some shit. I've seen some people who have to use every ounce of strength in their body to get through the lake of shit they are submerged in. An ocean of shit I can't even begin to understand. But they do it. These are my heroes in life. I've seen them come out, heads held high, full of love, ready to take on life again. If I can do it. If they can do it. So can you.
So, please, if you are stuck in place where you can't see, can't breathe, can't taste the beauty in life, LET. IT. GO. So much easier said than done. No one has a magic cure. A magic answer. A step by step program to follow. It all comes down to you. Just remember you aren't alone. If you are ready to let the shit go and feel like no one will understand, don't hesitant to send me a FB message, an email, or call me. My shit can't be that much worse than yours. Let's stink together for a minute and find a way to throw it out and make things smell pretty again. I might not have the all the answers (or any), but if you are ready to change, I will be here every step of the way as you shake all of that shit off and start a happier life.
You guys, life throws shit. All the time. It might have hit you right in the face. There's a good chance it landed in your eyes, blinding you to anything but the shit. It may have stuck in your nose and mouth flavoring the air you breathe and the food you taste. It's a nasty, bitter, ugly thing. It might take some time to sort through. I am not taking that away from you. It might take you a year, it might take you 2 years, it might take you 10 years. At some point, though, you have to tell that shit to get the heck off of your face. Tell it that there is no way it's taking any more of your time and your precious happiness.
At some point, having the shit covering your face goes from completely out of your control to a choice you make every day...to be a victim...to be miserable...to wallow in something you don't have to wallow in anymore. This may sound harsh, but it's really up to you. Are you going to let the shit blind you, suffocate you, gag you again today? Or. Are you ready to take a rag, wash it off, and throw it in the trash for good?
I'm a firm believer that life is a choice. Happiness is a choice. Love is a choice. Laughter is a choice. If you wake up every day expecting the worst, waiting for your kids to suck up all of your time and patience, expecting your spouse to fail you yet again, waiting for someone at work to frustrate you beyond human capacity, ignoring all of the funny little blessings happening around you, you are setting yourself up for a really bad day...bad week...bad life.
I've been through some shit. I've seen some people who have to use every ounce of strength in their body to get through the lake of shit they are submerged in. An ocean of shit I can't even begin to understand. But they do it. These are my heroes in life. I've seen them come out, heads held high, full of love, ready to take on life again. If I can do it. If they can do it. So can you.
So, please, if you are stuck in place where you can't see, can't breathe, can't taste the beauty in life, LET. IT. GO. So much easier said than done. No one has a magic cure. A magic answer. A step by step program to follow. It all comes down to you. Just remember you aren't alone. If you are ready to let the shit go and feel like no one will understand, don't hesitant to send me a FB message, an email, or call me. My shit can't be that much worse than yours. Let's stink together for a minute and find a way to throw it out and make things smell pretty again. I might not have the all the answers (or any), but if you are ready to change, I will be here every step of the way as you shake all of that shit off and start a happier life.
Friday, April 3, 2015
Let's Just Hold Hands and Take a Walk
Good Friday. What a horribly, wonderful day. I spend every Good Friday thinking about Jesus and my walk with him. Am I doing it right? Am I on the right path? Am I loving enough? Forgiving enough? Working hard enough not to break His commandments? I wonder about every little decision I make. Is this what God wants or am I doing what I want? It's harder to think about today when I'm imagining Him hanging on a cross after being beaten and knocked down and tortured. All for me. He did this all for me. And you. For all of us. Out of love. Can you imagine a love like that?
I've been spending a lot of time praying today. I've thanked God for His sacrifice. I've prayed that my life is following His plan. I was in the middle of taking a break from all of that thinking and praying to check my email when a little hand tapped me on the arm.
I looked down and saw a grinning Logan reaching his hand toward mine. I took his hand, stood up, and let him lead me to whatever it was that he wanted me to see. Usually, he takes me straight to the playroom and demands that I build something, play with something, watch him play with something, read a book, the list goes on.
This time, we walked right past the playroom. I followed his slow, careful steps into my bedroom. He looked at me for reassurance, I smiled, and we continued into the bathroom. He led me right in front of the full length mirror, sat down, pulled me down, and looked at me in the mirror. He pointed at both of us, smiled his irresistible dimple-filled smile, stood up, and we continued out of the bathroom. We hadn't spoken a single word to each other through this process.
He took me to the living room, pointed to the couch and then to me. I sat down and he crawled right up in my lap and snuggled into me. He let out a sigh, and looked up at me with one more smile.
I'm still not sure there was a point to the whole thing. He just wanted me to smile and follow him and offer my presence and love.
That's when it hit me. Maybe that IS the point. The whole point to all of this. Maybe if I calm down and just take God's hand, that's really all that He wants. Maybe I'm spending way too much time demanding things of myself, wondering about the how, the why, the what next of things, instead of just grabbing His hand walking through life holding on tight to that love and reassurance.
So, for today, I'm going to stop worrying and wondering. I'm going to grab the hand of Jesus and walk through my day smiling with eyes full of love.
I've been spending a lot of time praying today. I've thanked God for His sacrifice. I've prayed that my life is following His plan. I was in the middle of taking a break from all of that thinking and praying to check my email when a little hand tapped me on the arm.
I looked down and saw a grinning Logan reaching his hand toward mine. I took his hand, stood up, and let him lead me to whatever it was that he wanted me to see. Usually, he takes me straight to the playroom and demands that I build something, play with something, watch him play with something, read a book, the list goes on.
This time, we walked right past the playroom. I followed his slow, careful steps into my bedroom. He looked at me for reassurance, I smiled, and we continued into the bathroom. He led me right in front of the full length mirror, sat down, pulled me down, and looked at me in the mirror. He pointed at both of us, smiled his irresistible dimple-filled smile, stood up, and we continued out of the bathroom. We hadn't spoken a single word to each other through this process.
He took me to the living room, pointed to the couch and then to me. I sat down and he crawled right up in my lap and snuggled into me. He let out a sigh, and looked up at me with one more smile.
I'm still not sure there was a point to the whole thing. He just wanted me to smile and follow him and offer my presence and love.
That's when it hit me. Maybe that IS the point. The whole point to all of this. Maybe if I calm down and just take God's hand, that's really all that He wants. Maybe I'm spending way too much time demanding things of myself, wondering about the how, the why, the what next of things, instead of just grabbing His hand walking through life holding on tight to that love and reassurance.
So, for today, I'm going to stop worrying and wondering. I'm going to grab the hand of Jesus and walk through my day smiling with eyes full of love.
Thursday, March 5, 2015
On Grace
We were having one of those mornings. One of those nothing at all is going right or happening easily mornings. And you know who started it? Me. I let the morning get the best of me from the moment I grumpily stepped out of bed.
I woke up with a frown on my face. I stubbed my toe as I stumbled through the dark house on the way to get that first cup of life-giving coffee.
I snapped at my husband for trying to help me when I didn't want help.
I rolled my eyes and felt the tension build when both girls walked into my room at 5:45 in the morning. I told them they had to go sit down and keep themselves entertained for the next 45 minutes because they were interrupting my quiet morning routine. I didn't have the patience to deal with their never-ending needs that early this morning.
I broke up a fight about a doll that one daughter claimed as her own when it really belongs to the other by taking the doll and throwing it on top of the fridge so no one could have it. I told the same daughter (who is only 4...still a baby really) to GET. OUT. when she continued to cry about the damn doll. That's a lie, guys. I didn't "tell" her. I yelled in my best mad mom voice.
Because I WAS mad and I felt mean and ugly inside and horrible and I didn't get a grip on it. I let it take over this morning. I woke up feeling overwhelmed by kids. I woke up feeling overwhelmed by a house that needs cleaned...desperately. I woke up feeling selfish and unwilling to take care of anyone's feelings except my own.
When it was time to get coats and backpacks on, I just wanted to be left alone. I wanted to drop the girls off at school, put Logan in front of the TV, and sit in the quiet and let myself wallow in my bad place. I was getting ready to less than calmly tell Camden for the fourth time in 3 minutes to get her coat on when it happened.
Hannah came up and hugged my waist and with the complete honesty and love that only a child can give said, "You're the best Mom EVER." Camden, as she danced around still not doing a single thing I asked of her, but being completely and unapologetically and perfectly Camden, piped up, "You are Mom! Even when you're mad!" Logan, who had just been screaming about not wanting his coat on, started laughing and jumping up and down yelling "Yeah! Yeah! Mommy!"
My heart cracked and shifted. The ugly was gone and I hit my knees and hugged them all tight and let their grace wash over us all. Even when I was at my worst, they found a way to only see my best. They gave me grace when I needed it most, without really even knowing they were doing it.
I came home from dropping the girls off and sat down for a minute to think about the morning. I released a lot of stress with a good cry and realized what I forgot to do this morning. I forgot to take a minute to breathe and pray and be calm and to love these kids, this house, this life, myself just as they all were at that moment. Because even when it's dirty, the house is wonderful. Because even when they are fighting and crying and screaming, these children are more precious than anything in this world. Because even at my worst, I am a good person with a great life.
Offer grace, you guys. You never know when you may be giving it to someone who needs it the most.
I woke up with a frown on my face. I stubbed my toe as I stumbled through the dark house on the way to get that first cup of life-giving coffee.
I snapped at my husband for trying to help me when I didn't want help.
I rolled my eyes and felt the tension build when both girls walked into my room at 5:45 in the morning. I told them they had to go sit down and keep themselves entertained for the next 45 minutes because they were interrupting my quiet morning routine. I didn't have the patience to deal with their never-ending needs that early this morning.
I broke up a fight about a doll that one daughter claimed as her own when it really belongs to the other by taking the doll and throwing it on top of the fridge so no one could have it. I told the same daughter (who is only 4...still a baby really) to GET. OUT. when she continued to cry about the damn doll. That's a lie, guys. I didn't "tell" her. I yelled in my best mad mom voice.
Because I WAS mad and I felt mean and ugly inside and horrible and I didn't get a grip on it. I let it take over this morning. I woke up feeling overwhelmed by kids. I woke up feeling overwhelmed by a house that needs cleaned...desperately. I woke up feeling selfish and unwilling to take care of anyone's feelings except my own.
When it was time to get coats and backpacks on, I just wanted to be left alone. I wanted to drop the girls off at school, put Logan in front of the TV, and sit in the quiet and let myself wallow in my bad place. I was getting ready to less than calmly tell Camden for the fourth time in 3 minutes to get her coat on when it happened.
Hannah came up and hugged my waist and with the complete honesty and love that only a child can give said, "You're the best Mom EVER." Camden, as she danced around still not doing a single thing I asked of her, but being completely and unapologetically and perfectly Camden, piped up, "You are Mom! Even when you're mad!" Logan, who had just been screaming about not wanting his coat on, started laughing and jumping up and down yelling "Yeah! Yeah! Mommy!"
My heart cracked and shifted. The ugly was gone and I hit my knees and hugged them all tight and let their grace wash over us all. Even when I was at my worst, they found a way to only see my best. They gave me grace when I needed it most, without really even knowing they were doing it.
I came home from dropping the girls off and sat down for a minute to think about the morning. I released a lot of stress with a good cry and realized what I forgot to do this morning. I forgot to take a minute to breathe and pray and be calm and to love these kids, this house, this life, myself just as they all were at that moment. Because even when it's dirty, the house is wonderful. Because even when they are fighting and crying and screaming, these children are more precious than anything in this world. Because even at my worst, I am a good person with a great life.
Offer grace, you guys. You never know when you may be giving it to someone who needs it the most.
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
On That Creepy Little Elf on the Shelf
It's that time of year again. Time to get out that weird little elf that creepily watches over everything my kids do in a day so that she can head back to the North Pole and report everything to Santa while he makes his naughty and nice list. She stares at them from various places in the house...from the mantle, from above their beds, from the light fixture in the living room that gives her a good view of everything going on in the house. I tell my kids that she also knows every single thing they are doing when they are away from home at school because she's MAGIC. It doesn't matter if she's there physically or not. She's our elf and knows all that we do. Magic, guys, it gets your kids in line and terrifies them into behaving. We make sure our kids are equal parts in love with the elf and also petrified of what she's going to tell Santa about them. Because that's what Christmas is about...scaring your kids straight so they gets lots of presents.
Just kidding, you guys. I am blown away by how this silly little elf has become such a polarizing topic in our world. I've seen so many opinions on this that I just have to shake my head and turn off my computer. And then turn it back on and give my two cents.
Let's get a few things straight.
Number 1. My children know what Christmas is all about. It's not about being greedy little stinkers and only behaving for one month out of the year to get lots and lots of toys. It's about the birth of the man that came to this world to save all of our souls. It's about a man who loves us more than anything, even if we completely ignore Him. CHRISTmas, guys. The birth of Jesus. The totally encompassing, unfathomable, unending love that is Christ the King. That's just how we roll in this house.
Number 2. We also believe in Santa. Why not give your kids a little taste of magic? What's wrong with letting them know that Santa comes and gives us gifts in celebration of Jesus? I've heard over the years that there are people out there who are super bitter about being "lied" to about Santa all of those years. I feel that like stems from a deeper place that I don't want to get into. When I was a kid, Santa was a happy, joyful, magical thing to think about once a year. When I found out he wasn't "real", I didn't cry into my pillow for weeks and disown my parents. I loved Santa as a kid, and even now knowing he isn't a physical person I can touch, I still love him. I still believe in Santa, ya'll. Not as a fat, jolly man with an impressive white beard, but as a feeling, a peace and joy that you don't get any other time of year. An abundance of love and giving. I plan on telling my kids that the magic of Santa is what you make it. Even if you are the one wrapping the gifts and sticking them in stockings, the look on the faces of those precious little ones Christmas morning....THAT IS SANTA!!!! What's so wrong with that?
Number 3. Our kids LOVE our elf. If I would have tried this little experiment and been met with terrified cries and horrible dreams of a creepy elf watching them at all times, that elf would have been out of here.
But.
Our kids LOVE Mrs. Jingles! She moves to a silly new place every day and brings them fun little treats during the few weeks a year that she is in our house.
For me, it's just one more tradition that my kids will cherish far into adulthood. A little piece of the home, the love, the care that I am giving them right now.
Do I wish the elf was a little less psycho looking? Sure! Who wouldn't? Do I think it's a terrible, evil trick to pull on your kids? Absolutely not! Do I think all of you should adopt this tradition? NOPE! It's a family by family thing.
I find it sad that I even felt the need to write this and "defend" my position. There are so many things in this world that people get uptight about that make absolutely no sense to me. Not everything is for everyone. Why can't we just let those who want to invite that weird little elf into their house every year be? Why can't we nod our heads and say, "Yup, I get why you aren't doing the elf in your house" to those who aren't doing it?
I'll say this once....IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL!!!! Get the heck over it.
For us, in our house, Mrs. Jingles, our creepy little elf, is a win. She brings donuts and a new ornament every year. She hangs upside down from lights. She makes my kids jump out of bed in the morning. She makes those sweet little babies giggle when they find her. They tell her goodnight at bedtime. Please tell me, those who disagree with the idea of the elf, where is the harm in that? If you give me a good enough argument, it will be adios Mrs. Jingles. But for now, our Elf on the Shelf is a HUGE win.
Just kidding, you guys. I am blown away by how this silly little elf has become such a polarizing topic in our world. I've seen so many opinions on this that I just have to shake my head and turn off my computer. And then turn it back on and give my two cents.
Let's get a few things straight.
Number 1. My children know what Christmas is all about. It's not about being greedy little stinkers and only behaving for one month out of the year to get lots and lots of toys. It's about the birth of the man that came to this world to save all of our souls. It's about a man who loves us more than anything, even if we completely ignore Him. CHRISTmas, guys. The birth of Jesus. The totally encompassing, unfathomable, unending love that is Christ the King. That's just how we roll in this house.
Number 2. We also believe in Santa. Why not give your kids a little taste of magic? What's wrong with letting them know that Santa comes and gives us gifts in celebration of Jesus? I've heard over the years that there are people out there who are super bitter about being "lied" to about Santa all of those years. I feel that like stems from a deeper place that I don't want to get into. When I was a kid, Santa was a happy, joyful, magical thing to think about once a year. When I found out he wasn't "real", I didn't cry into my pillow for weeks and disown my parents. I loved Santa as a kid, and even now knowing he isn't a physical person I can touch, I still love him. I still believe in Santa, ya'll. Not as a fat, jolly man with an impressive white beard, but as a feeling, a peace and joy that you don't get any other time of year. An abundance of love and giving. I plan on telling my kids that the magic of Santa is what you make it. Even if you are the one wrapping the gifts and sticking them in stockings, the look on the faces of those precious little ones Christmas morning....THAT IS SANTA!!!! What's so wrong with that?
Number 3. Our kids LOVE our elf. If I would have tried this little experiment and been met with terrified cries and horrible dreams of a creepy elf watching them at all times, that elf would have been out of here.
But.
Our kids LOVE Mrs. Jingles! She moves to a silly new place every day and brings them fun little treats during the few weeks a year that she is in our house.
OH, NO!!! She brought donuts, you guys!
For me, it's just one more tradition that my kids will cherish far into adulthood. A little piece of the home, the love, the care that I am giving them right now.
Happy faces, guys, happy adorable faces.
Do I wish the elf was a little less psycho looking? Sure! Who wouldn't? Do I think it's a terrible, evil trick to pull on your kids? Absolutely not! Do I think all of you should adopt this tradition? NOPE! It's a family by family thing.
I find it sad that I even felt the need to write this and "defend" my position. There are so many things in this world that people get uptight about that make absolutely no sense to me. Not everything is for everyone. Why can't we just let those who want to invite that weird little elf into their house every year be? Why can't we nod our heads and say, "Yup, I get why you aren't doing the elf in your house" to those who aren't doing it?
I'll say this once....IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL!!!! Get the heck over it.
For us, in our house, Mrs. Jingles, our creepy little elf, is a win. She brings donuts and a new ornament every year. She hangs upside down from lights. She makes my kids jump out of bed in the morning. She makes those sweet little babies giggle when they find her. They tell her goodnight at bedtime. Please tell me, those who disagree with the idea of the elf, where is the harm in that? If you give me a good enough argument, it will be adios Mrs. Jingles. But for now, our Elf on the Shelf is a HUGE win.
Thursday, November 13, 2014
On The Best Potato Soup EVER!
Baby, it's cold outside! We actually had snow flurries coming down this morning. The temperature almost hit 30 yesterday. BRRRRRRR!!! Obviously, that calls for soup. Lots and lots of delicious soup.
Quick confession. I do not love cooking. I don't hate it, either. It's just one of those things that I have to do so that this family can survive. Guess what, though?! I have recently learned that I LOVE to cook soup. I don't care if it takes an hour to get it done (usually I go for 30 minute or less recipes). I just really enjoy it.
Last week, I found and made the recipe I'm about to share. I googled Panera potato soup because let's be honest, their soup is the bomb. Yes, I said it....THE BOMB! I found one that looked pretty good and pretty easy. Added a little of my own flair to it (very little of my own flair. I'm not one to mess with recipes) and served it up. Everyone LOVED it. Except Hannah. It was a little spicy. Next time, I'll cut back on the red pepper, and I bet she downs it like the rest of us!
So here you go. You can thank me later! (I don't have pictures of this process. My bad).
POTATO SOUP
Ingredients:
4 cups chicken broth
4 cups peeled and cubed potatoes
1/2 cup of half-and-half (I might have used more. I didn't measure, just dumped).
1/4 cup minced onions
1/2 tsp seasoning salt
1/4 tsp white pepper
1/4 tsp ground red pepper (Cut back if you are sensitive to spicy foods like Hannah)
1 - 8 oz package cream cheese cut into chunks
Directions:
1. Combine broth, potatoes, onion and spices
2. Boil on medium heat until potatoes are tender. Mash a few to release their starch to thicken the soup.
3. Add half-and-half and reduce to low heat.
4. Add cream cheese, stir until cheese melts
5. If you want, top it with some yummy stuff like bacon pieces, green onions, shredded cheese. MMMMmmmm....bacon!
We ate this whole pot in one sitting. Next time, I will double it.
Stay tuned for more soup recipes because that's what I'm feeling these days.
Mommy win on making a soup that (almost) the whole family loves!
Quick confession. I do not love cooking. I don't hate it, either. It's just one of those things that I have to do so that this family can survive. Guess what, though?! I have recently learned that I LOVE to cook soup. I don't care if it takes an hour to get it done (usually I go for 30 minute or less recipes). I just really enjoy it.
Last week, I found and made the recipe I'm about to share. I googled Panera potato soup because let's be honest, their soup is the bomb. Yes, I said it....THE BOMB! I found one that looked pretty good and pretty easy. Added a little of my own flair to it (very little of my own flair. I'm not one to mess with recipes) and served it up. Everyone LOVED it. Except Hannah. It was a little spicy. Next time, I'll cut back on the red pepper, and I bet she downs it like the rest of us!
So here you go. You can thank me later! (I don't have pictures of this process. My bad).
POTATO SOUP
Ingredients:
4 cups chicken broth
4 cups peeled and cubed potatoes
1/2 cup of half-and-half (I might have used more. I didn't measure, just dumped).
1/4 cup minced onions
1/2 tsp seasoning salt
1/4 tsp white pepper
1/4 tsp ground red pepper (Cut back if you are sensitive to spicy foods like Hannah)
1 - 8 oz package cream cheese cut into chunks
Directions:
1. Combine broth, potatoes, onion and spices
2. Boil on medium heat until potatoes are tender. Mash a few to release their starch to thicken the soup.
3. Add half-and-half and reduce to low heat.
4. Add cream cheese, stir until cheese melts
5. If you want, top it with some yummy stuff like bacon pieces, green onions, shredded cheese. MMMMmmmm....bacon!
We ate this whole pot in one sitting. Next time, I will double it.
Stay tuned for more soup recipes because that's what I'm feeling these days.
Mommy win on making a soup that (almost) the whole family loves!
Monday, October 13, 2014
On Receiving My First Hate Letter
Last Wednesday went like most days go. School, crying, naps, Target, more crying, eating, playing, homework, more crying, etc. We did have a nice little highlight that hasn't happened in far too long. We had a skype date with our Rachel.
Quick catch up for those of you thinking, "who the heck is Rachel?" Rachel is my first-cousin. She graduated high school, didn't like her immediate option for college, so she moved from Ohio to Texas to live with us for a year and go to Midland Community College until she figured out what she wanted to do and where she wanted to be. It was a great year. She covered our house in hair (seriously, this girl sheds like no other) and ate all of our food. When she left, she took a little piece of all of our hearts with her. She's forever part of our immediate family.
Rachel is back in Ohio now. She found a college that she loves, friends she can't live without, and is working hard to reach her dreams. We are so proud. We miss her like crazy.
We don't talk to her nearly enough. Last week, we decided to fix that and set a Skype date. After school, when things settled down and homework was done, we called. The kids were SO excited. They were jumping up and down and dancing to the ring tone as we were calling through. The minute Rachel picked up, they all got stage fright and got super quiet.
Hannah was the first to decide she wanted to speak up. Right about that time, Logan decided he wanted to yell in Rachel's face and see what she was all about (he was a month old when she moved out, his memory was a little fuzzy). In true drama queen fashion, Hannah got upset that he stole the spotlight, threw herself on the ground and refused to look at anyone.
We left her like that and went on about our business. The other two Lynch kids charmed Rachel's socks off. Logan ran around, said all of his new words, and did all of his tricks. Camden caught her up on preschool life and drew pictures for her on the magna-doodle. When it was just about time to hang up, I saw Hannah at our dining room table making a drawing.
Thinking she was over it, I walked over to see if she was ready for her turn to Skype with Rachel. I got an evil look, looked down and saw a paper covered in x's. I asked what she was drawing and she meanly said, "X's. They are for you."
OOOOOOoooookay. I was clearly on her s*@t list. Without taking her eyes off of me, she wrote "MOM" and angrily drew a line through my name. I burst out laughing. It was hilarious. She was mad and so mean about it, but seeing that adorable little face be so horrible was more than I could take. I saw her eyes narrow and knew I was really going to have a devil on my hands if I didn't think of something fast.
"Hannah! I'm only laughing to keep myself from crying. Does that mean you don't want me to be your mom anymore?"
"Yes. I don't want any of you. I want a new family." By now, she had drawn all of our names with an angry line through them and a huge X over the whole bunch.
Obviously, I lost my mind and started laughing again. It was HILARIOUS!
"I'm going to live with Rachel!"
I told her that I was very sad and sorry that she was so upset that she didn't want to be part of our family anymore. I also told her that it wasn't an option to move away because we love her way too much to let her go. I gave her body, still rigid with anger, a huge hug, whispered that I love her, told her I understand getting so mad you want to leave, but that I hope she changes her mind because of how much she means to us.
Ten minutes later, I got this....
Hopefully, she always gets over her mad so quickly. And hopefully, I can learn to control my laugh impulse when my kids are working through a mad.
Quick catch up for those of you thinking, "who the heck is Rachel?" Rachel is my first-cousin. She graduated high school, didn't like her immediate option for college, so she moved from Ohio to Texas to live with us for a year and go to Midland Community College until she figured out what she wanted to do and where she wanted to be. It was a great year. She covered our house in hair (seriously, this girl sheds like no other) and ate all of our food. When she left, she took a little piece of all of our hearts with her. She's forever part of our immediate family.
Rachel is back in Ohio now. She found a college that she loves, friends she can't live without, and is working hard to reach her dreams. We are so proud. We miss her like crazy.
We don't talk to her nearly enough. Last week, we decided to fix that and set a Skype date. After school, when things settled down and homework was done, we called. The kids were SO excited. They were jumping up and down and dancing to the ring tone as we were calling through. The minute Rachel picked up, they all got stage fright and got super quiet.
Hannah was the first to decide she wanted to speak up. Right about that time, Logan decided he wanted to yell in Rachel's face and see what she was all about (he was a month old when she moved out, his memory was a little fuzzy). In true drama queen fashion, Hannah got upset that he stole the spotlight, threw herself on the ground and refused to look at anyone.
We left her like that and went on about our business. The other two Lynch kids charmed Rachel's socks off. Logan ran around, said all of his new words, and did all of his tricks. Camden caught her up on preschool life and drew pictures for her on the magna-doodle. When it was just about time to hang up, I saw Hannah at our dining room table making a drawing.
Thinking she was over it, I walked over to see if she was ready for her turn to Skype with Rachel. I got an evil look, looked down and saw a paper covered in x's. I asked what she was drawing and she meanly said, "X's. They are for you."
OOOOOOoooookay. I was clearly on her s*@t list. Without taking her eyes off of me, she wrote "MOM" and angrily drew a line through my name. I burst out laughing. It was hilarious. She was mad and so mean about it, but seeing that adorable little face be so horrible was more than I could take. I saw her eyes narrow and knew I was really going to have a devil on my hands if I didn't think of something fast.
"Hannah! I'm only laughing to keep myself from crying. Does that mean you don't want me to be your mom anymore?"
"Yes. I don't want any of you. I want a new family." By now, she had drawn all of our names with an angry line through them and a huge X over the whole bunch.
Obviously, I lost my mind and started laughing again. It was HILARIOUS!
"I'm going to live with Rachel!"
I told her that I was very sad and sorry that she was so upset that she didn't want to be part of our family anymore. I also told her that it wasn't an option to move away because we love her way too much to let her go. I gave her body, still rigid with anger, a huge hug, whispered that I love her, told her I understand getting so mad you want to leave, but that I hope she changes her mind because of how much she means to us.
Ten minutes later, I got this....
Front
Back
Hopefully, she always gets over her mad so quickly. And hopefully, I can learn to control my laugh impulse when my kids are working through a mad.
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