Flashback Friday, cousin style

This is my cousin and me before life got complicated.

I’m the brunette and she’s the blond – and, thus, the matching color-hued dolls.

It was always such.

We often wore matching outfits. Our mothers, sisters, shopped together.

Relatives would often give us the same gift but just slightly different – different color, scent or style. To the point where we had to coordinate gift opening on Christmas to prevent either of us from ruining the surprise for the other.

She is 4 months and 4 days older than me. Her daughter is 4 months and 27 days older than my son. You would think we coordinated that but it actually happened quite naturally.

A cousin is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost.

Yes. I love my cousins, my special, special friends.

Happy weekend,

Stef

Happy Earth Day my fellow Earthlings!

We went to church today (a relatively new thing for us as a family) and the message was all about the importance of taking care of the Earth we all live on because the eco-system is fragile, it’s breakable, and this is the only Earth we have. The church member speaking about Earth Day pointed out that the overall goal is not to allow our global temperature to increase 2 degrees.

Doesn’t sound like much, right?  She also informed us that a change of only 4 degrees in the opposite direction brought on the last Ice Age. Umm, yikes.

Another scary bit of info: the water run-off from the Himalayas is the primary drinking water source for 40% of the Earth’s inhabitants. The polar ice caps in the Himalayas are being hugely affected by global warming which could severely affect the drinking water to some of the poorest nations on Earth. Scary, scary stuff.

See, the thing is, I don’t want my children to inherit a bigger environmental mess from us. I don’t want them feeling like they are cleaning up the mess their parents’ generation left. How can we get things going in the right direction for them?

 

This photo was taken after church today. I’m quite sure that Earth Day was designed to be in Spring (in the U.S.), when everything is at it’s most beautiful.

 

In honor of Earth Day I have lifted this list of “6 Surprising Earth Day Statistics” from the Reader’s Digest. Here’s the link if you want to go to the full site: http://www.rd.com/slideshows/6-surprising-earth-day-statistics/#slideshow=slide1

 

Green Driving

Roughly 1.5 million hybrid cars and SUVs were sold in the U.S. from 2004 to 2009. Despite bumps caused by the recession, sales of fuel-efficient vehicles are on the rise.

1 in 50 adults traded in their vehicle for a more fuel-efficient hybrid, electric, or alternative fuel vehicle in the past 6 months.

1 in 1.02 adults did not make the switch.

 

Turn Off the Lights
The energy-conscious are urged to switch off lights if they are going to be out of a room for longer than 5 minutes.

1 in 2.17 adults claim they always keep unneeded lights off or turn the lights off when leaving a room.

1 in 50 adults did not make the switch.

 

Recycle, Reduce, Reuse
According to the Environmental Protection Agency, recycling creates jobs, reduces pollution and energy use, and conserves national resources.

1 in 2.38 adults claim they always recycle.

1 in 20 admit they never recycle.

 

Trash Can
The average American produces 1,600 pounds of garbage a year.

1 in 3.7 adults claim they always reuse things instead of throwing them away or buying new items.

1 in 25 admit to never reusing things.

 

Running Water
The average American uses between 80 and 100 gallons of water a day.

1 in 3.85 adults claim they always make an effort to use less water.

1 in 16.67 admit they never make an effort to conserve water.

 

Vampire Power (not the sparkly or Bon Temps variety)
The electricity used by appliances plugged in but not in use is estimated to account for 1% of global C02 emissions.

1 in 6.25 adults claim they always make an effort to unplug electrical appliances when not using them.

1 in 6.67admit they never make such an effort.

 

Now, go forth and make the world a better place, por favor.

xoxo,

Stef

5 Things

Whenever I start feeling pressured by ALL THE THINGS going on in my life I think of The Bangles and the “Time, time, time, see what’s become of me” quote from Hazy Shade of Winter (an awesome song). (Now, my husband will surely correct me and tell me that particular quote comes from Paul Simon. That’s fine. Except in my head I also hear the music so it’s The Bangles reference I’m making here).

So, due to the time, time, time issue I just have snippets for you today. Snippets of ALL THE THINGS swirling around in my over-crowded head just begging to be released. Each of these are unique and vary wildly from mostly unrelated to drastically unrelated. Each of these have been taking up residence in my head and banging at me from the inside and I MUST LET THEM OUT:

1. All soccer, all the time. The boys have both started soccer. 4 days a week. Their soccer practices overlap by 30 minutes and are at two different schools a few miles apart. The hubby and I are tag-teaming big-time. Please tell me this push towards socialization, athleticism, and confidence-building will all be worthwhile. Please.

2. In relation to Soccer, my Autie boy is troubled. This is his first time playing an organized sport and if he’s not exceptional and perfect at all of it then his emotions are triggered and he wants none of it. His feet and hands aren’t as coordinated as he would like and he just can’t master that drop-kick and then he says, “No, I can’t do it! Can we go home now?” And he loudly and angrily throws a fit, in front of his teammates because he isn’t hampered by the need to conform like so many other kids. The coach doesn’t know how to deal with him. The teammates don’t know how to respond. I get embarrassed.  Then ashamed. I get down to his eye-level, I talk to him, I try to reason through it with him. I tell him he’s learning, like the other kids and continued practice is what will help him. He’s largely unresponsive. He says things like “I’m stupid! I hate you!” to himself and hits himself on the head. My poor boy. How do I build him up? How do I help him? What can I do?

3. How do you feel about your spirituality? Do you think about it much? Are you quiet and introverted about it? Or do you blast it out for all to share? I have always kept my spirituality to myself and, for the most part, my husband has as well. Now things are changing. My husband has embarked on a spiritual journey that is quite life-altering and he’s bringing the whole family along with him. After 26 years of not attending church he has had a change of heart; he has reconciled some of the bitterness from his past, and decided that being a follower of Christ does not necessarily mean that he has to be aligned with a bunch of judgmental hypocrites like the Crazy Christians. To that end, he has found a church he enjoys and the whole family attended with him for Easter. There are Lesbians! There is a female pastor that looks astonishingly like Kathy Bates! There is openness and acceptance of anybody, anywhere on their spiritual journey. I’m not used to being forced to contemplate my spirituality and beliefs as much as I have been lately. I’m not sure yet, but I think it could be a good thing. (I retain the right to change my opinion at any time.)

4. I think there comes a point in every person’s life when they have to come to terms with a hard truth or two. Their age, their health, their likeliness of ever becoming an astronaut, an Oscar winner, or a late-night TV show host. Whatever it is, the more personal, the more inextricably linked to self-esteem, self-confidence, and self-perception, the harder that truth is going to be to accept. I’m dealing with a few of those right now. It’s been a long time coming,  and it’s not like I didn’t know these things before – but facing them, head-on, is the hard part. For years it’s been a dance, a flirtation, jumping forward and facing the issue and then deftly twisting sideways, plugging my ears and sing-songing, “I can’t hear you!” Burying it deeply for as long as possible until, eventually, it’s triggered and raises up with a vengeance. It’s not going to flatten me this time. I’m not flinching. I’m going to walk straight up, smack the issue in the face and say, “NO.  YOU be MY bitch now!”

5. I’m straying outside of my normal comfort zone here, but stay with me. I’ve been on the periphery of these on-going discussions on abortion and Planned Parenthood and employer paid insurance coverage for birth control and, honestly, I’m sick to death of this subject. I am pro-life. I am also pro-choice. The two are not mutually exclusive. I am a mother. I love babies. I think they are a blessing and one of those things in life that is truly pure and angelic. I don’t want babies to die. I also don’t want mothers to die. Without mothers, we have no babies. Women bear the blessing and the burden of being the life-makers, but they can’t do it alone and it’s unconscionable for women to be attacked and demoralized for something that was, quite obviously, a joint endeavor. When a baby is conceived accidentally – whether by rape, stupidity or simply by accident – then a woman, and her partner for that matter, have the right to protect themselves and their futures. The woman, specifically, has a right to protect her health. In order to prevent unwanted pregnancies it is important that all women, rich and poor and in-between, have access to birth control. It’s important that organizations like Planned Parenthood are available to help women, ALL WOMEN, with their reproductive health via regular exams, cancer screenings, birth control and, yes, abortions when needed. It’s cheaper for insurances to cover birth control than it is for a woman to get an abortion or for a family to be on welfare. That’s how I see it. Now, if the rest of the U.S. would just get in line that would be great . . .

Five snippets. All different. All so very separate yet a part of me. A part of the river of thoughts flowing  through my brain and linked by all my experiences and knowledge. Always  pushing and pulling, turning and tumbling. It’s always a journey, sometimes unattainable, to find peace in my thoughts and in my heart. Sometimes easier than others. Love, support and encouragement helps and I’ve been trying hard to GIVE that to other people because I want it in return too. I need it.

This is where my favorite quote comes in:

Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

I hope your battle isn’t flattening you. I love you. I appreciate you. I think you are doing your best at ALL THE THINGS and that’s all that you can do.

Have a fabulous weekend, my friends. May your heart be at peace.

-Stef

Chicken & Rice soup – so simple & easy

I’m so tired of trying to think of things to cook at night that my whole family will eat I could just spit. In fact, I may have. The fact is: I will never make everybody happy. So I’ve just given up. I mean, sometimes I’ll specifically make things by request – but what the kids request is not what my husband likes. And sometimes not what I like. What my husband and I like is not what they like. Sometimes what my husband likes is not what ANYBODY likes. But him. (In which case he’s on his own).

So the other day I got home from work at 6:30 and my husband ran out the door to his play rehearsal with a yell over the shoulder, “The kids haven’t eaten yet!” I kicked off my shoes, put my hair up, and went to inspect the fridge. Then the pantry. Looking for inspiration. Then my gaze settled on the rice. Rice. Yum. Chicken. Yum. The kids should, possibly, maybe, eat this. Fingers-crossed.

From the pantry I grabbed a bag of Uncle Ben’s Converted Rice, an onion, a couple garlic cloves, canola oil and a can of Campbell’s Cream of Chicken soup.

From the fridge/freezer I grabbed a bag of frozen chicken tenders, a pint of half & half, butter, white wine and Better Than Bouillon concentrated stock (which we like so much better than bouillon cubes).

This is the part where I confess to not taking ANY pictures. I was HUNGRY dude. And busy.

Okay, so in a medium stockpot on medium heat, I poured some oil  and the diced onion and garlic. Let that simmer a bit then put in 4 or 5 frozen chicken tenders. After the chicken was mostly cooked (still a little pink in the middle, but that doesn’t matter because you cook it more) I took the chicken out and cut it up in smaller, bite-sized pieces. Put it back in and let it simmer more while I got other stuff ready. Then I added a little bit of wine to degrease the pan and get all that cooked yummy stuff up from the bottom and circulating in the soup.

I poured in 1 cup of rice, 2 cups of water, the can of Cream of Chicken soup, about half a cup of half & half (but in hindsight maybe a full cup would be best), stirred it all up and turned the burner to medium-low to simmer. I set the timer for 20 minutes and walked away. After 20 minutes I checked the rice and it was still a little firm so I added a little more half & half (probably for a total equivalent of 1 cup of half & half, but I tend not measure) and I also added 1 tbsp of butter. I also added a couple shakes of Tastefully Simple’s Onion Onion and Garlic Garlic because the flavor to add a touch more flavor. (Also, Cayenne would probably have been good but I didn’t try that because of the kids.) 10 more minutes on the timer.

At the end of 10 minutes it was perfect. Just the right consistency – not too runny because I’m not a huge fan of runny, brothy soups – but good creamy broth, yummy, flavorful chicken and overall a filling meal. I think broccoli would have been an excellent addition to the soup as well but I didn’t have any at the time. We’ll try that next.

My husband thought it was very good. He heated it up when he got home, added milk to thin it (because he likes a runnier soup) and he ate an entire big bowl. My kids? *sigh* They would not touch it. Frown. They saw that I made soup and ran screaming from the room. Seriously? What’s wrong with these kids? I was picky when I was a kid but, hello, rice? Chicken? That’s a no-brainer! So I made them heat up their own Chef Boyardee while I ate my yummy soup. So there.

Quick. Easy. Yummy.

Happy eating,

Stef

The best laid plans of moms and little men

Last Tuesday, I mean the Tuesday before last (though I can’t really believe it’s been THAT long) I had a plan. I had a party scheduled for that evening at my house. I had to go to the dentist, do a few hours of work, vote YES! for the school district levy, and then do the last minute cleaning and party prep. Totally do-able plan, right?

Except kids. Kids make do-able plans totally un-do-able.

My older dude is out of school for a 3 week spring break. This was day 2 of that break. A neighborhood kid from from his school was hanging out at the house. My little dude came home from school and they all three went outside to play. It was 4:30 and I was just getting my shoes and looking for a bra to put on so we could all go vote really quick. The party was scheduled at 6:30 and I still needed to shower so, you know, time was getting a little short.

Then I heard screaming.

I flew down the hall to the kitchen and my older dude’s friend was saying, “He’s hurt! He fell! He needs you!” and before we could run out the door he came in holding his chin, crying, screaming, with blood running down his arms. I knew that posture. I knew that look. I knew that feeling.

Flashback to 1980, the first day in our new house with a swimming pool. I said, “Just one more, mom,” as I stepped on the diving board, my foot slipped, and my chin hit the diving board. Hard. I got my first stitches ever that day. Flashback, again, to about 1989, and I’m rock-hopping at Dinkey Creek with my cousin and my foot slips on a wet rock and my chin connected with the rock. I walked back to our cabin and I just KNEW I had split my chin open again. I knew it.

And as I looked at my son and he tilted his head up for me to see the wound I just knew it. I mouthed to my husband “stitches” and he quickly gathered up the big dude in his arms and walked him to the car, amid hysterical screams and cries saying, “no, no, just give me a band-aid!” and he sat holding my almost 10 year old in the backseat all the way to the ER. Daddy-made seat belt, as it were (not safe, I know, but sometimes you do what you gotta do). I grabbed the little dude, my purse and a bra and hopped in the car to drive to our “usual” ER/Urgent care. (It’s not a full hospital but does have 24 hour ER care and, yes, we’ve been their multiple times).

I frantically called my stepmom – could she come over early and help do the final prep stuff for the party? The party that is in 2 hours? No, she had the days wrong and couldn’t come over tonight. I called my mom-in-law and she wasn’t feeling well enough to come either (and she’s having surgery next week so she gets a pass for these things!). By this time it’s 4:45ish. What to do, what to do? Well . . .  cancel the dang party.

So then – driving, texting at stoplights, updating my FB party invite, emailing co-workers frantically to tell them not to come! We won’t be there!- all the while my son is hysterical in the backseat, crying, begging to go home and just get a band-aid and insisting that it will “TOTALLY HEAL ON IT’S OWN!!!”

In the end – 1 very painful shot, 6 stitches, 3 hours in the ER and a tub of ice cream and a Red Box movie.

He was such a trooper. The shot was the worst part – for him and for ME – but once that part was done he just settled down and let the doctor stitch away. He later told his friend it was a “piece of cake.” That kid. Thank goodness kids are resilient.

So the party was cancelled. C’est la vie! There will always be parties. But when my boy is my age he’ll remember me holding his hand the entire time he was getting stitched – just like I remember my dad doing for me. Um, the second time.

And the party? I didn’t reschedule. The food wouldn’t have kept. So I took it all to my office the next day and my co-workers had a Tastefully Simple feast.

Priorities. Perspective. Stitches.

Take care, y’all,

Stef

Big-breasted nudists: don’t do these things

So here I am sitting in a hotel room in San Francisco. I’m naked. A little while ago I needed to iron a shirt. I was  naked then too. (I like to be naked in hotel rooms. I mean, not ALL the time. But before and after showers. While air drying. While taking my time getting ready. I think it’s because I live with 3 boys. Hotel rooms are practically the only time I can walk around naked. I mean, closed doors don’t stop little boys if you know what I mean).  Moving on. Hotel room. Naked. Ironing.

Then I thought back to that time I was making pasta at home, naked, and the pot  boiled over. (I don’t know where the boys were that allowed me to be in the kitchen naked. Probably at school and I was taking a day off. And the big boy? He doesn’t  mind the nakedness so much).

So then I thought, there really should be a list of things we, big-breasted women, should NEVER do naked. Like a guide to protect the big boobages. A safety manual!

Here’s my attempt:

  • Iron. (Duh. But I suppose this is dependent on your height and the height of your ironing board. And how fast and swooshy you are with the iron).
  • Cook on the stove. Or near the oven, for that matter. You never know when those puppies will get in the way or when something with boil over. Or pop. Ow.
  • Wash dishes. Because I use hot water and I’m a splasher.
  • Use a curling iron or flat iron. Just don’t. Trust me.

That’s what I’ve got so far. Do you have additions?

Oooh, one more. This is an honorable mention because it doesn’t have the same burn factor:

  • Take clothes out of the washer to put in the dryer. Again, this may be a height thing. I’m vertically challenged so, you know, things get smooshed when I’m trying to reach the bottom of the washer. It’s not pleasant.

Rule of thumb: when in doubt, don’t let them out!

Yours in singed boobs,

Stef

I’m not really here

In fact, I’m not really anywhere. I don’t know which way is up, or down, or sideways either. I can’t tell if it’s morning or night, and the work days seem to blend into the weekends.

I no longer have much interest in interacting much on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter. I try. I fail. Miserably.

Friends? Socializing? Huh? What are these things you speak of?

Eight years ago I thought having a toddler, a baby, a working spouse and a full-time job was difficult. That was until I had 8 & 9 year olds, a full-time all-ohmyword-consuming job and a husband who acts in community theatre.

This post is brought to you by 7 weeks of my husband having nearly daily rehearsals and essentially leaving me as a solo mom at night and on Saturdays. And it’s brought to you by a vast well of work disappointment (that I won’t speak about here but trust me, it’s vast.) It’s brought to you by a perpetually messy house and some sleepless nights. It’s brought to you by loneliness. And it’s brought to you by Ally McBeal.

Yes, Ally McBeal. The TV show and the character. My best friend and I used to watch Ally McBeal together. Well, technically, I was living in Idaho and she was in California and we would call each other on the commercials to talk about what had JUST happened. Then we would hang up. Then call back again. It was one of those things.

Ever since Netflix came into my life I’ve wished that Ally McBeal was available for streaming. I’ve checked a few times a year. Last week my wishes came true. YES.

As I type this I’m sitting on my sofa with my laptop in front of me and my iPad streaming Ally next to me. With headphones, though, because my kids are watching Spy Kids in the same room. (So, yes, I’m sort of keeping an eye on them. That’s enough, right?)

And I’m loving this.

I’m watching Calista Flockhart in all her floopiness. She was the original Zooey Deschanel, you know. She was quirky before quirky was cool.

Oh, and the unisex! Fishisms! Do you remember, “knee pit?” The dancing baby. Vonda Shepard. The biscuit! And Barry White.  “We got it together, didn’t we? We got it together, baby.”

And , of course, Robert Downey Jr. before he was Iron Man. Younger and devastatingly handsome. And crooning. I just watched this clip:

There’s something very comforting about watching this. I loved him on this show. He and Ally were magical.

For the length of this 40 minute episode I’m not an exhausted mommy anymore. I can forget about work frustrations, I can throw a blind eye to the laundry, and I can even, temporarily, keep myself from saying, “Don’t stand on the sofa! Don’t throw toys at the TV! Don’t fart on your brother’s head!”

(You’d be surprised how often that last one comes up).

So thank you Netflix and thank you Ally McBeal. Thank you for being the escape comforting me today.

Happy Friday, y’all.

XOXO,

Stef

Flashback Friday Fleetwood Mac Edition

You know how you hear a specific bit of music, for years, and it’s just background noise with very little impact and then one day you hear it, REALLY, REALLY HEAR IT and you’re blown away? Just absolutely floored?

So I realize it’s sad to admit that this was the catalyst but nevertheless here goes. Several weeks ago I caught a re-run of Glee with Kristin Chenoweth guesting (OMG, LOVE HER) and she was singing Dreams by Fleetwood Mac. And it was her voice and the music in that moment and as she sang:

Now here you go again
You say you want your freedom
Well who am I to keep you down
It’s only right that you should
Play the way you feel it
But listen carefully to the sound
Of your loneliness
Like a heartbeat.. drives you mad
In the stillness of remembering what you had
And what you lost…
And what you had…
And what you lost

I fell in love. With the song. With the  moment. With the feeling. I was crushed and moved.

Then I remembered how much I love Stevie Nicks. That chick rocks. She’s bad ass and she just does her own thing and doesn’t apologize for it.

Then, back to Glee, they did Never Going Back Again with like 12 guitars and it freakin’ rocked. And I loved it. And, hello, the original is Lindsey-freaking-Buckingham.

So I downloaded both songs (the Fleetwood Mac versions) to my iPhone and I’ve had them on repeat. They just seem to perfectly fit right now. Does that make sense? You know how music can match a time or a  feeling at a certain time? Yeah, that. I really just need to download the whole album. That’s next.

Now I’m sharing them with you. Just enjoy.

Happy Friday.

XOXO,

Stef

 

An affirmation

Because I need this today and maybe you do too:

You are smart, clever, and resourceful.

You are brave. You are strong.

You are caring and kind.

You will not be intimidated by any boys’ club or bully.

You love fiercely, with passion and without restraint.

You will carve your own path – as a parent, as a member of your community, and as a superstar in your work.

You are loved.

You are all these things.

So am I.

xoxo,

Stef