New Year New Plan

I finally realized that teaching 2 children IS like having a job outside the home. I am a working mother. I need to schedule my life so that I have a chunk of time that I can dedicate to homeschooling and not feel pulled by my other responsibilities. This requires a little help from the rest of my family. They are simply gonna have to pitch in more than they have in the past. I am not the only one who lives in this house, why should I be the only one to clean it? And I don't generate all that laundry - there are others who can help out.

So my plan for the new year is to get my family to help me take care of the house. I'm having a hard time getting a lot of "buy-in" from the other members of the family, however. Imagine that! They liked the old system where they tossed their dirty clothes in the general vicinity of the hamper and the Laundry Fairy magically caused their clothes to appear clean and folded in their dressers. They liked it when they could spit giagantic wads of unused toothpaste into the sink and then leave them there...and then the Sanitizing Fairy would come through with a spunge and some 409 to whip things into shape. They think its gross to wash out sinks....funny how it doesn't bother them to leave gross jobs for someone else.

So round these parts its "Good bye Cleaning Fairy." and "Hello, Chore Nazi."

Disconnected

So I lost my pictures when my laptop crashed. I've got some on a online web album, and my husband recovered all the pictures that are over 1.5 years old from our old computer. But still so many of the pictures of Baby's first months are lost. Among them, is a picture of her with her birth dad. I could KICK myself for not backing things up. So if you have any pictures of us in the last year or so send 'em to me. PLEAZZZE

Also, my contact list is gone. I don't even know my mom and dad's email addresses. The addresses just popped in after I started to type the first few letters so I never bothered to commit them to memory. So Mom, Dad, I love you, I just cannot contact you via the world wide web until you email me first.

Utterly Dependent

Wednesday, my laptop crashed. I was so lost. How did I get to be so dependent on my computer? It's sort of pathetic really...I think I had withdrawl symptoms. We use our computer to:

-pay bills
-balance our accounts
-rent movies
-check email
-renew library books
-schedule our lives
-get music and podcasts
-teach my children spelling, phonics and math facts
-communicate with the kid's school
-make appointments
-check healthcare coverage
-get recipes
-make shopping lists
-blog
-store and share pictures
-keep contact information
-make to-do lists
-do research
-mapquest stuff
-look up phone numbers
-email
-etc.

What did used to do? Use phonebooks, and daytimers, and radios, and maps and paper? How archaic. Luckily, my brother-in-law is a trainer for Sony Vaio. He hooked me up, but I'm still missing all my pictures, and stuff on my hard drive. The moral of this story is back-up, back-up , back-up.

Another Wacky Recipe from the Crunchy Side

With the exception of today, which is Christmas, I have been eating low-fat health food in hopes of losing a few pounds. But a girl cannot live on broccoli alone. So I found a recipe that allows me a chocolate fix and is relatively healthy. This one makes my mac and cheese recipe look normal, so brownie purist stop reading now. Here goes:

Chocolate Bean Brownies

1 can rinsed, drained black beans ( or white) pureed in a blender
3 eggs or 3/4 c. egg beaters
3 T. oil
4 T cocoa
pinch of salt
1 tsp. vanilla
1/2-3/4 c. sweetener ( I used 1/2 c. Agave Nectar, and 1/4 c. dark brown sugar)

Mix ingredients and poor into a 8x8 greased cake pan. Bake at 350 for 30 minutes.

I did mess with this recipe a tad, and I think I improved it somewhat. Here are my alterations:

I added:
1/4 c. GF flour blend
1/2 tsp. xanthum gum
1 tsp. baking power
1/4 tsp. baking soda
Chocolate chips sprinkled on top

Notes: If you're not gluten intolerant leave out the xanthum and just use "normal" flour. Agave looks like honey, and is made from the tequila plant. It is really low on the Glycemic Index, and doesn't mess with blood sugar. You can buy it at Vitamin Cottage next to the honey.

My kids loved these, they had no idea they were healthy. If your feeling brave give 'em a try.

Everlasting Father

Isaiah 9:6
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Baby has two fathers. One is her biological father, and one is her daddy. The difference could not be more profound.

Baby's biological father supplied the DNA, but when he found out that she existed he did nothing, for months. Even now the effort he has made to see his daughter borders on the ridiculous.

Then there is Eddie, Baby's daddy. Months before he knew of her existence my husband began to prepare for Baby's arrival. He allowed social workers into our home, to examine it. He opened up his life to a home study and completed hours of training. And when he got the call that Baby needed a home he dropped everything, and we went to get her. 5 hours after we learned she was alive we made her our own.

The nurses who discharged Baby into our care told us that Baby didn't like to eat. Did that ever turn out to be an understatement. Baby had a very uncoordinated suck. Eating was difficult for her, and we spent those first few days just trying to get her to eat enough to keep her alive. The doctors said we might have to consider a feeding tube. Thankfully, we avoided this by working with a therapist to teach baby how to suck swallow and breathe in the proper order.

When Baby was 5 weeks old she got a horrible blood infection. Her life was in the balance. One of the most powerful images of my life is of my husband rocking Baby at Children's Hospital. She was pale and bruised; she had tubes and cables attached to her in several places. He held her carefully on her side and helped her pace her breathing so that she could drink her bottle. Baby was so little and frail. Eddie, with dark circles under his eyes, was determined to do whatever it took to make sure his little girl made it. What tender care. What sacrifice.

There is nothing quite like adoption to shift ones paradigm for understanding God's love. I understand the Father Heart of a God so much better after seeing what it has cost my husband to love Baby. But the thing is, I am sure Eddie doesn't see it that way. Baby is his daughter; he loves her, he doesn't consider the cost. To him she is infinitely worth it.

Jesus. Everlasting Father. Abba. Now I know what it looks like to be chosen and dearly loved. I have seen it in the way my husband rocks his baby girl to sleep every night. She is not of his body. But she is his, wholly, and forever. And soon Baby will bear the name of her Daddy, just as I bear the name of my heavenly father.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!
"And he shall be called Everlasting Father" has new meaning this season.

Bizarre Cooking - A healthy mac and cheese recipe

The time has come for me to lose the baby fat. So I am dieting, and working out again. I decided to do Body for Life after all. I needed a plan, and that was a plan. Besides, it worked before, and as they say, "If it ain't broke, don't fix it."

I got my body fat measured at the health club Monday. I have an impressive 30% body fat, and am teetering on the edge of being officially overweight. I also took some "before" pictures of myself. All I can say is, "EWWWW"! I will do you the favor of not posting those pictures. The trainer dude worked the arithmetic; if I want to be at a healthy 21% body fat that means I've got to lose 15lbs and gain 3lbs in lean body mass (aka muscle). This is doable. Unfortunately, it does take discipline, and lots of exercise. Yesterday I was so sore I could barely walk.

I guess denial is no place to live, but it does have its perks. Cookies, for example. Here in Realityville I've been eating a lot more vegetables, and while I do like veggies, they simply are not as good as cookies, or lattes, or buttery toast, or brownies, or nachos.

One of my very favorite comfort foods is macaroni and cheese. Macaroni and Cheese has tons of fat and cholesterol, and very little nutritional value. Plus, I'm lactose intolerant. If I eat Mac and Cheese I pay. So I have concocted a yummy, seriously dairy reduced version that beats the craving and is pretty dang healthy. It's a little weird, so hold on. (also I cook by feel so this recipe is an approximation and can handle being tampered with)

1-2 tsp. olive oil
1 T. corn starch
1 c. water
1 cube of GF chicken bullion
1/2 c. cauliflower puree
1/4 c. carrot puree
1/4-1/2 c. reduced fat cheese - shredded
Salt and pepper to taste (you can also experiment with adding garlic, or spicy mustard, or balsamic vinegar)

Cook pasta while making sauce. Heat oil, and add corn starch. Stir. Slowly add 1 c. H2O and bullion cube. Stir on medium heat until bullion is dissolved and mixture thickens. Then, stir in purees and bring to a slow boil. Remove mix from heat and stir in cheese, till melted. Season to taste. Pour over cooked, drained (and in my case GF) pasta.

The Difference Between Hubby and Me

Here is an intimate view into our lives. This is our walk in closet. The top picture is of Hubby's side. Note that his hangers are uniformly arranged about 1.5 inches apart and the shirts are color coordinated from green to blue. My side is a big less "structured". Okay, so the stuff barely made it on to hangers...I prefer to call it artistic rather then messy.

My Girls

Homeschool Video

This is my life.

http://www.doublesharpevideo.com:80/HomeSchool2/Homeschool2.html

A Love Story:The Guy who was Never the Man of My Dreams

When I met my husband I was dating someone else. I was unavailable - in theory. I also had visions of someday marrying a man who was tall, dark and handsome - naturally. I thought he'd be a professional, or a guy I'd meet in grad school. I thought he'd be at least five years older than me and a spiritual giant.

My husband had blond hair. And a beard. He was a jock - of all things. I had definitely not planned on a jock. When I met him, my husband's faith was brand new. It was authentic, but we are not talking spiritual giant material here. And he was from rural New Mexico; he spoke English with a Spanish inflection! SO NOT MY TYPE!

Despite my best intentions, I was attracted to him - very attracted to him. The thing about jocks, particularly those of the ex-track star variety, is they tend to have very nice legs. It must have been a God ordained thing, because I even found his beard kinda sexy and his tacky t-shirt amusing. I've always been one to thumb my nose at the notion of love at first sight. I think I am still a bit of a cynic, but there was something...some connection, some attraction, and it was mutual.

But more than that annoying physical attraction I was impressed with the man. Particularly, I watched how my future hubby treated his friend, Cindy. I knew Cindy was "just a friend"; there were no ulterior motives. And, unbelievably, Cutie Pie treated his friend with respect. He opened doors for her. He listened to her. He was generally respectful, and gentlemanly. And it wasn't just Cindy, I started to notice, he treated everybody that way. Whatta ya know a genuinely nice guy?

When I was in college the vogue thing to do was to go swing dancing. I, occasionally, went with my boyfriend, El Creepo. I always felt like my arms were coming out of their sockets when I danced with him. He jerked me around and, had I the wherewithal to define it, I would have said dancing with El Creepo was a pretty good metaphor for the relationship in general. Lots of jerking around. Lots of disrespect.

Then I danced with my Cutie Pie. Guess what! He knew how to dance. He was good. And never once did I feel like I was being jerked around the dance floor. Never once. He led me with confidence, and strength, and gentleness. Dancing with him made me look good. Now I do have the wherewithal to define it, and I'd say dancing with with that tall blond man all those years ago is a pretty good metaphor for our relationship now. (Can you tell I am still smitten?)

My self-confidence was pretty bruised up after my too long relationship with El Creepo. And though I'd never recommend dating on the rebound, it worked for me. My Cutie Pie restored my hope in men, and he loved away so many of my insecurities.

He was never a Boy Scout growing-up, but if ever there were a Boy Scout at heart it would be my husband. I remember going climbing with Cutie Pie and a couple of friends shortly after I met him. I sustained an injury. I got a really really big splinter. Cutie Pie, always prepared, whipped out his first aid kit and performed surgery on my hand right there. My hero. Always prepared, and capable. To this day the kids go to him with their injuries. Mommy can kiss it, but Daddy makes it better.

If you know me at all you know that I can be....dippy. I'm really pretty smart, but sometimes I can be an astounding ditz. I've come to accept this about myself, though I sometimes still get irked at how distractable I can be. Hubby, aka Cutie Pie, is grounded. He's capable, and strong. He is not particularly imaginative, or introspective. (okay he's not even a little introspective). I can spend an entire day with my head in the clouds; Hubby gets stuff done. He is so different than me, and so not the man of my dreams. But ours is a match made in heaven. I am a better, more whole me, for having been loved by him.

So to quote the corn ball 1950's song, "Cherished is the word." And I am the luckiest girl in the world.

A Photo Documentary

It has come to my attention that some of my readers would like to see more pictures on my blog. So in an effort to please my adoring public, yesterday I documented my life via digital camera. I'm not claiming that this would make it on National Geographic, but a picture is worth a thousand words...




This is a picture of my 3 oldest kids getting ready to play in the snow. Don't they look cute...they were outside for all of 5 minutes before someone got snow in their glove and had to come in to warm up.



This is a picture of my kitchen table a few minutes after I got breakfast cleaned up. Already it has turned into a studio for creating birthday cards. Note the discoloration on the far side of the table, this is from when my kids created unsanctioned permanent marker art and my husband tried to clean it off with a bleach solution. (not recommended)



I was sweeping the floor and discovered where all the rest of our card game was. Apparently, it's easier to shove cards under the furniture rather than pick them up. The guilty party has not been apprehended.

We invested in a quality Fisher Price Nativity Set. Mary is recovering in the foreground from a concussion as the camel has recently gone on a rampage and taken out the sheep, shepherd, 1 wise man and a chicken who escaped from the farm set.

This is our "Charlie Brown Christmas Tree". The only presents under the tree thus far are from E and M; they made a "surprise" gift for Hubby and I. Unfortunately, they neglected to pick up the zillions of small pieces of of construction paper. So I'm pretty sure we will each be receiving a lovely collection of paper snowflakes.


Here is the inside of my chest freezer. On top are little baggies of pureed veggies. I add these to recipes to sneak in veggies. Ironically, under the little baggie of veggies are Tupperware full of Christmas cookies.

Here is the precious baby who generates so much laundry that I can no longer get it done in one day.

My kids are up, and starving...so I'm off to make some oatmeal. Check back later for the newest installment of "A Day in the Life of CurlyJo."

Bubisms

-Bub wanted me to read him the story of Snow White and the Seven Dorks this afternoon. (I think I might like that story better, actually.)

-He continues to call the bone doctor an "ortho-penis". (loudly, in the waiting room, no less.)

-And guacamole is still walk-a-goalie. (this has nothing to do with soccer as far as I can descern.)

-Hubby's receeding hair line is dubbed a mohawk.(too bad Hubby doesn't have a real mohawk, that would be worth seeing. )

- And ever since his New Mexico grandparents visited he distingishes between his 2 grandpa's by calling them the "skinny one" and the "fat one". (I'm not telling which one is which)

That kid is good for a chuckle...he really can be quite naughty ...but he's so dang cute I can't help but love him.

forgot my camera

http://crockershomepage.spaces.live.com/

I forgot my camera Friday night, when we went to Zoo Lights. Luckily, my sister remembered hers. Check out her blog to see the pictures.

Friday's are our Big Days. The two oldest kids go to their OPTIONS school, Bub has a playdate, and I'm either babysitting a ton of little boys, or reaping the rewards of the babysitting swap. Long story short: It was a serious pain to get 4 kids bundled and out the door for Zoo Lights, but it was fun...a memory maker to be sure.

We are done with homeschool until 2008. I told the kids we had the day off, and they're excited to help bake cookies and do Christmasy stuff. Unfortunately, just because we are taking a break from homeschooling doesn't mean that all of my other responsibilities are gone. My pile of laundry is impressive. My wood floors, though swept, are sticky. The social worker is coming Wednesday to re-certify our house. Currently, it is a pig sty. There are child sized hand prints on the mirror in the master bath. I want to know what kid was climbing on the counter in our bathroom and why. Plus there is an appt. for M to get her cavities filled (2).

Then there is the OPTIONS Christmas party at the rec center. I am dreading this event. First off, I've got to wear a bathing suit. Then I've got to take my four kids to the lousy event plus Gluten free food options for the pot-luck. Where are my shirpa's when I need them? Sounds miserable, and I'm not getting out of it. Bah-humbug.

Enough chit-chat...I've got cookies to bake, floors to mop, kids to nag, and Bub needs to be drugged (he's having a bad day, limping around pretty good).

To Excercise or not to Excercise...

There is a brand spankin' new healthclub opening up by our house. It's huge and reportedly very nice. It's got a cafe, and movies playing in the locker room. The best part is that childcare is $15 a month, no matter how many times you go, and no matter how many kids you have. I'm not sure that they realize that we have 4 kids - that's a serious bargain. I like bargains, and so we signed up. Hubby and I joke that we'll be going there for date night. We'll drop the kids off at in daycare, grab a coffee in the cafe and then each of us will go to our respective locker rooms to watch a movie. No work-out necesssary.

Well actually that's not totally accurate. I do need to workout. Its the only way I can go through life un-medicated. Plus there is the 15 lbs. I gained since Baby came home. That's gotta come off. The older I get the easier it is for me to gain weight and the harder it is to lose.

After E was born I did Body for Life( a weight training/cardio/diet plan). It worked great, and in a matter of 12 weeks I was in the best shape of my life and skinnier than when I got pregnant. I was considering trying that again so I checked out the website. The deal with BFL is that they do these challenges where people compete (for cash) to see who has the most radical transformation. The website is jam packed with inspiring before and after pictures. Everyone goes from flabby and saggy to trim, fit and tan (tan fat always looks thinner than white fat). After looking at the before and after pictures I got semi-inspired to do the challenge myself. Who couldn't use an extra 50K? Plus, my current fitness level would make for some fabulous before pictures.

But who are we kidding here? I am the stay-at-home/homeschool mom of 4. Do I really need to look like a super model? Fit and healthy would do. Skinnier would definately be a great, but I don't have to have the body of a 15 year old figure skater. I don't have to win Body for Life to have a body that is just right for my life.

I'm A Mental Health Case

Really, I am. When each of my bio kids were born I struggled with post-partum depression. I thought it was because my hormones were wacked. And I'm sure they were. But now I'm not sure that my struggle with depression has much to do with pregnancy after all. See, when Baby came home I started down the depression path again. Serious sleep deprivation, stress and a hiatis from my excercise routine sent my Seretonin levels on a tail spin. (Seretonin is a neurotransmitter responsible for emotional equalibrium. Seretonin and Endorphins defficiency are what cause depression.)

When I'm getting enough sleep, excercising, eating healthy and there are no major stressors I do okay with out medication. But once these things are disturbed my body defaults into this depressed mode. I can't escape it. It's predictable. The only way out, that I've discovered, is a little pill called an SSRI. It's amazing how a week or two on a little pill will make me feel human again.

I'm a high funtioning depressed person. I've got too many little people depending on me to not get my work done. I internalize, so it usually takes awhile for Hubby to pick up on the cues that I'm struggling with depression. Though the longer we're married the quicker he picks up on the cues that I'm not doing well. And that's important. Sometimes I need someone (who's not me) to name what is going on in my head.

What's depression like? Well if you Google it you'll find lots of technical definintions, but I have my own. Depression is like an emotional migrane. Or maybe it could be described as an enourmous weight tied around my neck. I can still function, but Depression slows me down, and it takes the joy out of life. The focus becomes survival. And because I'm spending so much energy on "keeping it together" my world becomes smaller, and life's little headaches become almost more than I can handle.

Before I struggled with Depression I might have said that Depression is mostly a spiritual problem. Not anymore. Depression, though I suppose it could be triggered by thought patterns or bad decisions, is a chemical problem. I am not a worrier, even when I am depressed. But I still feel anxious. I can be spending time in reading the Bible, but when depression hits the words on the page might as well be Greek. I cannot absorb them.

Now I get frustrated with Christians who don't acknowledge the real physical, chemical component to Depression. Saying, "pray more, or read your Bible, or don't be anxious" are simply not helpful solutions. It's kind of like telling a starving child that he should be in Sunday School. No, first you feed the kid; you get him warm clothes and someplace safe to stay. You care for his physical needs, and once those are met you talk with him about Jesus. Its the same with Depression. First the chemical, physical issues have to be addressed. Then the spirtitual issues (if there are any) can be handled.

I've been hesitant to blog about Depression, partly becuase it's depressing. But also Depression has a certain stigma attached to it. Mental illness is simply seen differently than physical illness. Saying you have Depression is different than saying your cholesterol is too high. It's unfair, but true. I decided to blog about it now, because I'm sure that there are others out there who struggle with depression, or will. I wanted you to know that you are not alone.

O Christmas Tree

Super Heros

Super Heros

Bullet Points

-We finally got approval from Baby's worker to put her in the nursery at church. We tried tonight. She freaked.
-Baby has had no more visits with birth dad. I wonder if he was just curious and wanted to meet her once. I'm glad I got a picture...it may have been the only chance.
-Tomorrow we are going to the National Forest to cut down our Christmas tree (yes-we have a permit). The kids are excited and so am I; its one of our most fun Christmas traditions
-E lost his first tooth today. He put it in a giagantic zip-lock bag. "So that it'll be easy for you to find under my pillow tonight; I know you're the Tooth Fairy, Mom." He said. I'm gonna give him a buck; hubby is shocked at inflation. He only got a quarter.
-E and M got their glasses in last Thursday. I'm considering duct taping them to each of their respective heads. I find those dumb things laying around everywhere. They are cute, when they're being worn though, and duct tape may diminish the look.
-I fought with M about wearing yellow socks, pink Mary Janes, holey jeans a purlple shirt and a light blue sweatshirt tied around the waist for an accessory. Later we had a knock-down-drag-out about wearing bright pink pants 4 inches too short. She's only 5, I'm really not THAT picky. What's it gonna be like at 13? YIKES!
-Bub's Spiderman suit is getting too small for him. It gives him a considerable wedgy, but he still insists on wearing the thing at least 1 day each week - with his "cowboy shoes" (aka cowboy boots). We've got quite a fashion sense around here!
-Cozy 101 plays all Christmas music for the month of December. My kids insist on having it on 24/7. It's on in their rooms; it's on in the playroom; it's on in the dining room. I've been humming Rump-A-Pum-Pum all day. Blast that dang drummer boy!