We did a photo shoot today. With my new blog template and all I decided that I need to look more sophisticated and artsy. None of this nice suburban mom stuff for me.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Sorry
I did actually graduate from the University of Colorado with a degree in English Literature. You'd think my grammar and spelling would be better.
I know what a comma splice is, and where apostrophes should go, but sometimes I get lazy. So I apologize to all those grammar nuts out there who are going crazy, and trying to keep their OCD in check. My grammar and spelling have been atrocious lately. Just use your imagination and pretend there are commas where they should be. And pretend I don't end sentences with prepositions, and begin sentences with "and".
Okay, I'm not all that sorry. I'm not even going to hit spellcheck. You're just gonna have to deal...it's my blog I can use cruddy grammar if I want. Do I know how to rebel or what?
I know what a comma splice is, and where apostrophes should go, but sometimes I get lazy. So I apologize to all those grammar nuts out there who are going crazy, and trying to keep their OCD in check. My grammar and spelling have been atrocious lately. Just use your imagination and pretend there are commas where they should be. And pretend I don't end sentences with prepositions, and begin sentences with "and".
Okay, I'm not all that sorry. I'm not even going to hit spellcheck. You're just gonna have to deal...it's my blog I can use cruddy grammar if I want. Do I know how to rebel or what?
Tootsies
BUFF
Beautiful
I changed the template for my blog. Did you notice? Unfortunately for me and subsequently for you my technical savvy is somewhat limited. I've cropped and wiggled this picture around but I can't get it to fit the header. It's times like these that make me want to beat my head against the wall, or my laptop.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
George
I've got the kids in vacation Bible school this week. It's really mostly about me having a vacation from them, not them having any Bible schooling. Though that might be a good side benefit.
Yesterday was registration day. A sweet elderly lady looked at my 4 year old and said, "What's your name, honey?" To which Bub replied, "George." This is a bold faced lie. He said it with a smile.
I haven't the foggiest idea what spawned this deception.
Last night Bub asked Hubby, "Dad, what if a monkey flew through the air and then fell into our house?"
I would so like to get into that kid's head.
Now here is the difference between Hubby and I. In response to Bub's question Hubby pointed out the implausibility of such an occurrence. I on the other hand was thinking, "Well, clearly, we'd have to name him George. Then maybe we could invite him to dinner, but after dinner we'd have to call the Denver Zoo to see if there is space available for George. I'm allergic to bunnies, dogs and cats. Odds are good I'd be allergic to monkeys too."
I do not no where that child gets his fanciful ideas ;)
Yesterday was registration day. A sweet elderly lady looked at my 4 year old and said, "What's your name, honey?" To which Bub replied, "George." This is a bold faced lie. He said it with a smile.
I haven't the foggiest idea what spawned this deception.
Last night Bub asked Hubby, "Dad, what if a monkey flew through the air and then fell into our house?"
I would so like to get into that kid's head.
Now here is the difference between Hubby and I. In response to Bub's question Hubby pointed out the implausibility of such an occurrence. I on the other hand was thinking, "Well, clearly, we'd have to name him George. Then maybe we could invite him to dinner, but after dinner we'd have to call the Denver Zoo to see if there is space available for George. I'm allergic to bunnies, dogs and cats. Odds are good I'd be allergic to monkeys too."
I do not no where that child gets his fanciful ideas ;)
Sunday, August 3, 2008
#250
This is my 250th post, which I've cleverly entitled #250.
I mostly started blogging because my husband said I should. He said it'd be good for me, and he was right. Does he know me or what?
So, our church is doing this thing where we're supposed be praying for God to break our hearts for the city for 28 days. Let me clarify: we're supposed to pray for 28 days that God would break our hearts forever. I actually missed the sermon that night, so I'm not sure why 28 is the magic number. Never the less I have been faithfully, if begrudgingly, praying. I'm feeling sorta so-so about the broken heart deal. I've had a broken heart. It sucks.
So far here are my revelations. #1 - I don't get out much. Homeschooling 3 kids while trying to keep a toddler from tearing apart my house is about all I can handle. And when I am out I'm usually way too sidetracked trying to make sure that none of my children are running in front of cars etc. I hardly notice other people. This doesn't feel quite right to me, but I don't have any solutions.
#2 - This orphan care thing just won't go away for me. I keep getting sucked back in. The other day I ended up on a website that did photo-listing for all the waiting kids in Colorado. Waiting kids are kids who's birth parents have had their rights terminated; they are legally free for adoption and are wards of the state. But for whatever reason, no one has adopted them. There are a lot of waiting kids in Colorado, a lot just in Adams county. There are tons more in Denver. This breaks my heart. It just shouldn't be.
But what am I to do?
We cannot possibly adopt them all. I mean we in the singular sense, as in Hubby and me. But we, the collective we, as in the body of Christ, should. We are without excuse. Okay, that's not technically true. There are lots of good reasons not to adopt. But ultimately, they're lame, when it's a kid's life we're talking about. And not everyone is called to adopt. But some people are, and don't becuase, well becuase they have lame excuses.
So what's my lame excuse? Why am I unwilling to engage in the lives of these orphans living among us? Maybe adoption isn't the answer for us now, but orphan care is ultimately everyones responsiblity. I am not exempt.
I mostly started blogging because my husband said I should. He said it'd be good for me, and he was right. Does he know me or what?
So, our church is doing this thing where we're supposed be praying for God to break our hearts for the city for 28 days. Let me clarify: we're supposed to pray for 28 days that God would break our hearts forever. I actually missed the sermon that night, so I'm not sure why 28 is the magic number. Never the less I have been faithfully, if begrudgingly, praying. I'm feeling sorta so-so about the broken heart deal. I've had a broken heart. It sucks.
So far here are my revelations. #1 - I don't get out much. Homeschooling 3 kids while trying to keep a toddler from tearing apart my house is about all I can handle. And when I am out I'm usually way too sidetracked trying to make sure that none of my children are running in front of cars etc. I hardly notice other people. This doesn't feel quite right to me, but I don't have any solutions.
#2 - This orphan care thing just won't go away for me. I keep getting sucked back in. The other day I ended up on a website that did photo-listing for all the waiting kids in Colorado. Waiting kids are kids who's birth parents have had their rights terminated; they are legally free for adoption and are wards of the state. But for whatever reason, no one has adopted them. There are a lot of waiting kids in Colorado, a lot just in Adams county. There are tons more in Denver. This breaks my heart. It just shouldn't be.
But what am I to do?
We cannot possibly adopt them all. I mean we in the singular sense, as in Hubby and me. But we, the collective we, as in the body of Christ, should. We are without excuse. Okay, that's not technically true. There are lots of good reasons not to adopt. But ultimately, they're lame, when it's a kid's life we're talking about. And not everyone is called to adopt. But some people are, and don't becuase, well becuase they have lame excuses.
So what's my lame excuse? Why am I unwilling to engage in the lives of these orphans living among us? Maybe adoption isn't the answer for us now, but orphan care is ultimately everyones responsiblity. I am not exempt.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
church...
I love my sister.
My sister hates church.
She loves Jesus.
She just hates church.
And, frankly, I don't really blame her.
In her last blog entry she wrote about how church reminds her of really dumb trail horses headed to the glue factory. Actually, it's a pretty good analogy, but you'd have to read her blog to get it. This is the link:http://crockershomepage.blogspot.com/ (Sorry, no snazzy hyperlinks here.)
Anyway, after reading her blog I decided she sounded like a girl who'd stepped in one too many piles of horse hooey on her faith journey. And since she's my sister, and I happen to know her story, I know that not only has she stepped in road apples she's also had piles of poo launched at her head by members of the clergy.
I think I may have overstepped the bounds of what this comfortable analogy affords. But I think I've made my point: no one likes poo thrown at their head; it tends to make one have a bad attitude about the launchers of the poo. It's unfortunate that poo tossing happens in the church, but, as they say, "shit happens." (couldn't resist...sorry about the potty mouth...oh crap, now I've done it again...oh when will this rediculous pun end)
So where does that leave us, as Christ-followers? If, as I believe, faith journeys happen in community and we've established that some times we all act like idiotic trail horses, and the trail is littered with excrement of our own making then we aren't exactly sitting pretty. We're smelling stinky. (Dang...I cannot resist these stupid jokes tonight. Please forgive me.)
The Bible says we are to be the aroma of Christ. But church, for my sister, and others like her, conjures up aromas of something else entirely. Something methane-ish.
Something is wrong with that.
It's very, very wrong.
And I don't think it'll change anytime soon.
So the flip side to to the stupid trail horse analogy is this: At least on this faith journey I'm in I know that the trail leads someplace good. The view rocks. Sometimes it literally takes my breath away. Also, I've gotta say I've met some really fabulous dumb trail horses along the way...trail horses can make really good friends. And it keeps me humble knowing that though I deserve to be sent to the glue factory, I'm on a journey through mountains of grace.
I gotta believe, I GOTTA BELIEVE, it's worth a little poo along the way.
My sister hates church.
She loves Jesus.
She just hates church.
And, frankly, I don't really blame her.
In her last blog entry she wrote about how church reminds her of really dumb trail horses headed to the glue factory. Actually, it's a pretty good analogy, but you'd have to read her blog to get it. This is the link:http://crockershomepage.blogspot.com/ (Sorry, no snazzy hyperlinks here.)
Anyway, after reading her blog I decided she sounded like a girl who'd stepped in one too many piles of horse hooey on her faith journey. And since she's my sister, and I happen to know her story, I know that not only has she stepped in road apples she's also had piles of poo launched at her head by members of the clergy.
I think I may have overstepped the bounds of what this comfortable analogy affords. But I think I've made my point: no one likes poo thrown at their head; it tends to make one have a bad attitude about the launchers of the poo. It's unfortunate that poo tossing happens in the church, but, as they say, "shit happens." (couldn't resist...sorry about the potty mouth...oh crap, now I've done it again...oh when will this rediculous pun end)
So where does that leave us, as Christ-followers? If, as I believe, faith journeys happen in community and we've established that some times we all act like idiotic trail horses, and the trail is littered with excrement of our own making then we aren't exactly sitting pretty. We're smelling stinky. (Dang...I cannot resist these stupid jokes tonight. Please forgive me.)
The Bible says we are to be the aroma of Christ. But church, for my sister, and others like her, conjures up aromas of something else entirely. Something methane-ish.
Something is wrong with that.
It's very, very wrong.
And I don't think it'll change anytime soon.
So the flip side to to the stupid trail horse analogy is this: At least on this faith journey I'm in I know that the trail leads someplace good. The view rocks. Sometimes it literally takes my breath away. Also, I've gotta say I've met some really fabulous dumb trail horses along the way...trail horses can make really good friends. And it keeps me humble knowing that though I deserve to be sent to the glue factory, I'm on a journey through mountains of grace.
I gotta believe, I GOTTA BELIEVE, it's worth a little poo along the way.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Pizza Soup
One of the irritating things about being gluten free is you can't just heat up a can of Campbells for lunch. 99.9% of canned soup manages to cram some kind of gluten into it. But, I've discovered that homeade soup is way yummier, and usually pretty easy. Not to mention cheap. Cheap is good.
On the road to this discovery I happened upon a delicious Creamy Tomato Pesto recipe. It's one of my favorites, but my kids won't touch it. Until today.
My sister is brilliant with kids; she always has been. It's a gift. And she is the one who taught me this trick. Never ever ever serve tomato soup. Always serve pizza soup. It's exactly the same thing. But the spin does the trick. Well, you do have to let the kids sprinkle mozzeralla on it and diced pepperoni. It's also good with croutons or pasta. But those are just extras. The point is that the word pizza works miracles on a kid's appetite. And if it even remotely resembles pizza then its a done deal.
Bub ate 3 bowls.
(And he had no idea I added pureed yellow squash to the recipe. The kid wouldn't touch squash with a 10 foot pole. But I, Wonder Mom, had cleverly disguised it as pizza. )
Creamy Tomato Pesto Soup goes something like this:
- 32 oz. of chicken stock
-1 can of tomatoes with garlic and onions.
-1 BIG can of diced tomatoes.
Puree. Heat. Then add:
1 cup half and half (or, if your husband isn't watching puree 1/2 pack of tofu in with the other stuff. I actually like the tofu better than the half and half - just have to be a little sneaker)
Salt and pepper to taste. ( go long on the salt folks)
Garnish with store bought pesto. (it says 2 T. but I say way more is better)
and sometimes 1 T of sugar helps balance the flavors...
Anyhoo...I think I'm beginning to see why I might not have a future in food blogging. My cooking is usually loosely based on a recipe I saw once. Could tend to confuse...
On the road to this discovery I happened upon a delicious Creamy Tomato Pesto recipe. It's one of my favorites, but my kids won't touch it. Until today.
My sister is brilliant with kids; she always has been. It's a gift. And she is the one who taught me this trick. Never ever ever serve tomato soup. Always serve pizza soup. It's exactly the same thing. But the spin does the trick. Well, you do have to let the kids sprinkle mozzeralla on it and diced pepperoni. It's also good with croutons or pasta. But those are just extras. The point is that the word pizza works miracles on a kid's appetite. And if it even remotely resembles pizza then its a done deal.
Bub ate 3 bowls.
(And he had no idea I added pureed yellow squash to the recipe. The kid wouldn't touch squash with a 10 foot pole. But I, Wonder Mom, had cleverly disguised it as pizza. )
Creamy Tomato Pesto Soup goes something like this:
- 32 oz. of chicken stock
-1 can of tomatoes with garlic and onions.
-1 BIG can of diced tomatoes.
Puree. Heat. Then add:
1 cup half and half (or, if your husband isn't watching puree 1/2 pack of tofu in with the other stuff. I actually like the tofu better than the half and half - just have to be a little sneaker)
Salt and pepper to taste. ( go long on the salt folks)
Garnish with store bought pesto. (it says 2 T. but I say way more is better)
and sometimes 1 T of sugar helps balance the flavors...
Anyhoo...I think I'm beginning to see why I might not have a future in food blogging. My cooking is usually loosely based on a recipe I saw once. Could tend to confuse...
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