Words Matter

So how many mommies out there have had hurt feeling from something their small child said or did?   Seems silly doesn’t it, that we let a 3 foot tall person get the best of our emotions.    It has happened to me quite a few times, especially here lately as they are getting older.   For me, it is usually because I spent a lot of time cooking something and they say they don’t like it or that it is gross before they even try it, but sometimes it is just feeling unappreciated by them.  

This got me thinking about my own childhood and I remember a few times that my mother seemed sad or was crying and tried to hide it.   At the time I am sure I didn’t think much of it, but now as a mom, I have a feeling it was probably something one of us kids said or did.    So, why do we let our kids hurt our feelings?  We are the grown-ups.   The dreaded ‘I hate you” followed by the door slam.     We should be able to take their words with a grain of salt.  We are the parents.   “Ew, gross!  Why can’t we have hot dogs again?!!”    I often get upset with myself for having hurt feelings.    I wonder if I should let them know that their words can be hurtful, and I have done this.     I have told Elizabeth that I worked very hard on dinner and it is hurtful when she says it is gross before she even tries it.    I wonder at 4 ½ if that has any impact on her.   I just want them to understand now that their word and actions can affect others, positively or negatively.

I read a quote the other day, “When they are little they will step on your toes.  When they are bigger, they will step on your heart”.    If I am letting them get to me now, what will it be like when they are teenagers?     I just hope and pray that I am doing the right things NOW that will teach them empathy and understanding as they grow up.   I need to learn to let go of the little things and letting go is tough for me.   When I am able to let go of hurt feelings or painful situation it is quite liberating.   I found this excerpt from ‘The Prophet” by Kahill Gilbran on the internet and maybe it will help all of us to “let it go” when we are feeling hurt. 

Your children are not your children,
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but are not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and
He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
So he loves also the bow that is stable.

What better way to teach our children how to cope with hurt feelings and to let it go than by managing our own emotions and letting them know that their words matter. 

First You Gotta Make a Roux

 I am sort of a Southern transplant.  Although born in Texas, I spent most of my yourh in the Midwest: New Mexico and Colorado.   I went to college in Mississippi and my in laws were from Louisiana.  After a few trips to New Orleans in college, I took a liking to Cajun and Creole fare.     After I got married I started collecting cookbooks from the region.   I wanted to master some of my favorites like Jambalaya, Creole sauce and of course Gumbo.  Many of the old Cajun recipes I found start of with the statement “First you gotta make a roux”.    Some of the recipes explained how to do this but a lot didn’t.    When I first tried, I failed often.   I would either burn it or not let it cook long enough to get it to the right color.    I have since mastered the roux so I thought I would share my secrets and tips here.    If you do not know what a roux is, it is a thickener or binder to soups, stews or sauces.   It was first introduced in French cuisine in the 17^th century.  A Cajun roux is much darker than those used in French cuisine.    The darker the roux becomes the less thickening power it has but it gains a rich and nutty flavor. 

To make a roux successfully you really need a cast iron Dutch oven or deep skillet.   If you do not have cast iron, use a pan with a very thick bottom, otherwise your roux will burn. 

Add 1 cup oil and 1 cup flour to pan.  Mix well with a wooden spoon.    Turn your burner on med-high heat and begin to stir.    You must stir the mixture constantly or it will burn.   If you have a recipe that states it takes 10 minutes to make a roux, don’t believe it.   It could take up to 30 minutes.   Your arm will be tired.    I have a cold beer in the other hand to ease the pain!   When you start the roux will look like this:  

Continue stirring the mixture and it will gradually start changing color from a blonde roux to a golden roux.  If you start seeing a lot of black specks in the mixture it is burnt and you need to start over.   A very small amount of black specks in the mixture is normal.   It will look like this:

You are not done yet.   Keep stirring (you may need a second beer).   The roux needs to be a very dark caramel color.    Almost there……

The darker you make it the richer the flavor.   The color in the above picture is acceptable but you could cook it a little longer and it will get darker.    Once it is the required color, remove the pot from heat and continue to stir the roux until it is no longer boiling.  

For gumbo, you need to have the trinity ready to go.   This is chopped, onion, celery and bell pepper.     Add the trinity to the roux (I usually add the garlic here as well).     It will immediately thicken up and look like this:

Below is my Sausage and Chicken Gumbo Recipe.   If you are brave enough to tackle the roux, the rest is a breeze.   Enjoy and Laissez les bons temps rouler!

Chicken and Sausage Gumbo

Roux:

1 cup veg oil

1 cup flour

1 med onion chopped,

1 bell pepper chopped

3 celery stalks chopped

3 cloves garlic crushed

3 cups hot water

3 cupbs beef broth

1 large bay leaf

1/2 tsp thyme

2 tsp Cajun seasoning (or more to your taste) ( I use Tony Cs or Zataran’s)

¼ tsp cayenne pepper (or more to your taste)

Salt and black pepper to taste

1 lb andouille or smoked sausage, cut in 1 in pieces

2 cooked chicken breasts cup up in 1 inch pieces
1 1/2 cups cut okra, fresh or frozen

1. Add oil and flour in a cast iron dutch oven pot.   Cook over medium high heat stirring constantly until it is the color of dark caramel.    This will take at least 20 minutes.  If you read somewhere or if anyone tells you it takes 10 minutes they are LYING.    Do not look away and keep stirring  it or will burn.

NOTE:  If you see a lot of black spec in the roux, the flour burned and you need to start again.

2. Remove pan from heat.  Add in the trinity (onion, celery, bell pepper) and the garlic and stir well.   Put pan back on the heat and turn to medium
3.  Gradually add the water and beef broth to mixture until combined well with the roux mixture.   Add all of your seasonings at this time. 
4. Add your sausage and chicken and simmer for at least an hour.   I do not put a lid on the pot as I like it to be very thick.  
5. About 30 min before serving add the cut up okra
6. Serve over steamed white rice.

To join or not to join? That is the question.

While discussing church with my hubby a couple weeks ago, he asked an unintentionally thought provoking question that I have been brooding over ever since.   I told him I was thinking about joining the church we have been attending for a few months now.   He asked “What will we gain by joining the church versus what we are doing now?”    Initially the things that came to mind were somewhat selfish and I have been trying to answer this question for myself ever since.   

I have been baptized and then confirmed in the Methodist church when I was a pre-teen.    This was a big deal for me.  I remember receiving my first bible from the church after confirmation and I still have it today.    As mentioned in my very first blog post, church was a very important part of my youth.   I was a member of our community Methodist church in every city I lived in until college. 

Our family attends church every Sunday now.   We meet people.  The kids go to Sunday school.  We tithe.   I am also volunteering and helping out with some of the children’s activities for the church and day school.   So what IS the difference?     I got some answers this past Sunday as Pastor Jim preached about the gifts and talents that God gave us and sharing them with the church community.   I read somewhere that the decision to join a church means choosing to move from a consumer (how does this benefit me) to a contributor (what can I do to benefit the church).    Not joining is the easy choice.   Becoming a member means accountability, and having some accountability in our lives is supposed to be a good thing, right?

Joining a church is not like joining a social group, country club, or gym.   It is a profession of your faith and commitment to serve the church and serve God.   This seems like a BIG deal, but we commit to so many things in our lives.   We commit to being faithful in our marriage, we commit to raising our children and providing a loving and nurturing home for them.  We commit to our jobs by doing what is required of us every work day.  Committing to your church home is much the same.  

Church is for believers but I think it is also a place for those of us still searching for answers.   We all have something to offer no matter how small it may seem.   It could be something as small as upkeep of the church grounds or assisting the elderly to their seats on Sunday morning.  This coming Sunday, I will be handing out candy to children in the community at Trunk or Treat.  Such a small thing, really.  Giving of yourself and your gift is not without reward.    Don’t we all feel good when we help others in some way?   

Church can provide a sense of belonging and of community and family.     You make it what you want it to be in your life and so I think that is why I am taking this question and decision so seriously.    If everyone attending church were casual goers and not doers, would there be a church on the hill that I can walk to on Sunday mornings?  

As each one has received a special gift, employ it in serving one another as good stewards of the manifold grace of God. – 1 Peter 4:10

Life - Embrace The Journey: Elizabeth's Birth Story

Life - Embrace The Journey: Elizabeth's Birth Story: While going for a run at the gym this past Friday, my next topic found me. I was walking into the Hoover rec center when several school...

Elizabeth's Birth Story

While going for a run at the gym this past Friday, my next topic found me.  I was walking into the Hoover rec center when several school busses were dropping off students, obviously special needs kids of all sorts.  Down Syndrome, physical disabilities, Cerebral Palsy, and many others I am sure.   They were there this week for a swim meet.    It didn’t hit me until I was at least 1 mile into my 5 mile run that this would be what I would right about.   Part of the indoor track overlooks the olympic size swimming pool.  Once the meet began, I started glancing down as I ran each lap.    Excited kids, parents swollen with pride and eager instructors helping the kids swim and compete.  It was amazing and inspiring.    It made me think about the strength these parents must have raising a special needs child and really just how incredible they must be. 

I do not know what is like to raise a special needs child but I do know what it is like to be told I may have a baby with a permanent deficiency and how your mind begins preparing for it.   This is Elizabeth’s story.

My daughter, now 4 1/2, was born at a University hospital after I was induced one week overdue.   I had wonderful prenatal care by outstanding doctors but 6 days after my due date, they decided to induce.  I was barely dilated when I arrived at the hospital so they broke my water and started the Pitocin drip and after 9 hours of horrible contractions, I had hardly dilated any more than when I arrived.    The doctor suggested a c-section.   I agreed although I was crying, feeling like a failure.   Just before 5 PM Elizabeth was born weighing in at just over 9 lbs.   I was feeling a bit relieved that it was a c-section!

I will skip ahead in the story to night number 2 in the hospital with my daughter.  At around 6PM, a nurse came I  to tell  me that Elizabeth’s breathing was labored and they had moved her to the NICU just as a precaution.   They felt she likely just had fluid in her lungs that is normally expelled during delivery.   I went down to feed her every 3 hours during the night but by 3AM she was already moved back up to the nursery on my floor.    That morning, Roger was there and we received a visit from a doctor we were not familiar with.   She was an intern in genetics.  She informed us that while in the NICU, the doctor on call felt that our daughter may have some facial features that favor children with Down Syndrome so he ordered what they call a FISH test.   This is some sort of blood test to check for the extra chromosome.   They also drew blood to perform the more extensive karyotype.   She informed us that after a physical examination, they did not see any of the specific physical traits seen with Downs Syndrome (something about spacing between toes, certain pattern on the palms of hands and the rest was a blur) but that they could not be sure until test results came back later in the week.   I am also going to skip the details about the “pep talk” we received from this doctor.  It was overwhelming.    

Two days, more visits from genetics doctors and many tears later we were sent home with our baby girl.   Part of me felt like she was perfectly normal but part of me was scared to death.  She was a gift from God regardless.  I knew in my heart that I loved her no matter what but was feeling unprepared.   The day after we were home with our precious girl, we got the call that the test was negative.   She was fine. 

I have complete adoration for moms, caregivers, teachers of these very special children.    You deserve more honor than I am sure you ever receive.    To my dear friend who has recently adopted a special needs child, you are amazing and I am in awe of what you are doing and pray for you on your exciting journey.    Several fellow moms and friends have told me that I should never tell Elizabeth her story.  “She just doesn’t need to know that”, I’ve been told.   I think maybe one day I will tell her or maybe she can read this.   I don’t see any harm in her knowing that we would have loved her deeply no matter what.  

2 Girls and Some Weights

2 Girls and Some Weights

I wanted to write again this week but had a hard time choosing a topic.  There have been so many things on my mind lately.  In the forefront, has been the economy and politics; Sunday’s sermon had me thinking about those in thankless jobs and taking the time to appreciate those who do small things in my life.   Then, on my way home from the gym Monday, soaked in sweat and feeling quite fatigued, I almost got sideswiped in the minivan by a women in a very small, older model Chevy.    In the van, I sit higher up and could see down into her vehicle.    She was at least 250 lbs, holding a breakfast sandwich form a fast food joint, and steering her vehicle with her knees.   I am not even sure how she fit in that car.  That is when I knew what I would right about next.

Instead of getting angry and “cussing” the woman out (knowing she can’t hear me), my very first thought was “How sad.  I could help her”.   I do not know why I thought at that moment that I could help her.   I guess because in the last 8 months, I have worked to get myself in the best shape of my life.   No, I am not 100 lbs (as I don’t think that is healthy either) but I am at a healthy weight, one I have not been at since I was 20 and certainly much stronger.    I truly did feel so sad for that woman.   She was more concerned about devouring her food than driving her car in a safe manner, and from her size, this was probably not an infrequent incident.    I wondered why she let herself get to that point. 

This got me thinking about my next career when my kids are both in school, and I think maybe fitness is it.    If I could help people lose weight and get healthy, I would truly feel a sense of accomplishment.  I have some exercise pals that started this journey with me and having a support system, whether it is a friend, family member, trainer or instructor is vital to success.    I am no “Jillian Michaels” but I have some spunk and I do know what kind of commitment it takes to get in shape, and more so, stay in shape.   So with some proper education, training, certifications and convincing a friend join me, I am envisioning “2 Girls and Some Weights”.   We will come to your house, office, a park, anywhere really, with weights in tow (because that is all you really need) ready to work.   Well, maybe in a couple of years. 

Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life. Proverbs 4:23

Meet PeePee and PooPoo

Potty training, one of the many joys of parenthood.   Every mother I know over the age of 50 tells me the same thing, “My children were potty trained by the time they were 2”.    Well I am not sure what happened between the 1970’s and 2011, but both my children were (are) difficult to potty train.   I know very few moms with little ones today that had then trained before 2 ½ or 3.    

John turned 3 almost 2 weeks ago.  I tried training him when he was a little over 2 but he resisted with shrills and fists of fury.  So I waited, encouraged him but did not push him.  After his 3^rd birthday I told him NO MORE DIAPERS.   So began the journey.      He would hold it in so long that he would scream in pain while sitting on the potty.  I felt very sad but did not give in.     Finally, the light bulb came on and he said “Mommy I did it”!!     His reward each time he used the potty was a toy dinosaur and MM’s.      After finally going consistently, he has quite a little collection of prehistoric creatures.   

While playing dinosaurs with his sister this morning, I hear “Meet PooPoo and PeePee my scary dinosaurs.  ROAR”.     Elizabeth started laughing and then it was all over.  2 of his dinosaurs are named after the very thing that got them out of the plastic bag and into the hands of a 3 year old.    He is always looking for the laugh. 

He still has some sort of fear of the toilet and will only use a small kids potty chair.    Today we had a play date at a local park.  I keep a plastic potty in the back of the van for emergencies.    He insisted I take the potty out of the car and bring it into the park.   I tried to convince him that if he needed to go, I would run and get it.  He disagreed.  I thought “Oh, what the hell.”   Whatever it takes right?  Sure enough, he decides he needs to go and down go the pants in front of 5 other moms and a herd of kids.    He didn’t seem to mind the audience.    I only got strange looks from one of the moms.    She must not remember what it was like potty training a child.    

Between 2 kids, I have tried every trick or suggestion given on the subject.  For boys, sit them on the toilet facing backwards and tell them to make bubbles; drain the tank, draw a target in the bowl and then turn water back on and have them aim; throw some cheerios in the toilet, and so many more.    For girls, paint their nails while sitting on the potty, let them use a potty chair for their dolls.    I would love to see some other creative ideas so if you have one please post a comment.    I will tell PeePee and PooPoo you said hello.

My Journey Back to Christ

I grew up attending church.   In fact, as a child and young teenager, I loved church and youth group and felt a strong connection to God.   I prayed regularly.   

High School, college and my twenties I thought differently.  I guess science made more logical sense to me.   I tried to analyze how a God, a man could have created the world, the solar system and every living creature in it.  That is just not reasonable, right?    I was not so closed minded to think that there was a possibility of a higher power out there, just didn’t see the realism in that belief.    Hubby and I, with our friends used to hike a lot.  6 to 8 mile hikes were not unusual for us.    I would stand on top of a mountain and take in the view and feel such reward that I climbed that far to see such beauty.     I did find myself wondering how all this beauty and majesty got here.

Everything changed when I was in my mid to late 30s.   After many years of marriage and thinking we did not want children, we decided to start a family. 

Pregnancy is an amazing experience.  So many “miracles” are involved.  Being older and getting pregnant right away (twice) was a miracle all on its own.   Then there is childbirth.    There are some many  things that can go wrong for 9 months (and when you are over 35, boy do the doctors make you feel like you have one foot in the grave on your own) and then holding a healthy baby for this first time is both amazing and spiritual.    Reminds me of that George Strait song “I Saw God Today”.    If you haven’t heard it, listen/watch here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q06AvQF5NOw.

Sometimes we have to throw our hearts and minds to the wind.    I now think, how could science be solely responsible for all the beauty and life in this world?  

So, we started going to church.   For hubby and I, this is the first time we have gone regularly (at all really) in almost 20 years of marriage.    Initially for me, it was for the kids.   I wanted Elizabeth and John to have a church home and to learn about Christ and then one day they can make the decision for themselves.   Not giving them this opportunity seemed unfair.    I realized I enjoy church.   I always did when I went as a kid.  I enjoy the bible verses and I enjoy the messages of Dr Savage and Dr Phares.   I enjoy the sense of community it provides and opportunities to help others.     I enjoy that sense of belonging.

I have a long way to go in figuring this all out.    I have only just begun this journey.