Wordless Wednesday - My Happy Place

The Hardest Thing I Have Ever Done...

...is be a parent.  Funny thing is that when Little Man was born, I kept wondering why everyone always said that being a parent was so hard.  All I had had to do was feed him, change his diapers, and make sure he was fed.  Aside from the extreme lack of sleep, I spent most of the time thinking, "Ok, I got this!"

When he got older, it still seemed pretty easy.  The terrible twos were not horrible, teething passed pretty quickly, and his stubborn little personality came out.  Potty training was tough, but we made it through it. And I still thought I had a good handle on the whole parenting thing.  Just keep him from coloring on walls or swallowing the loose coins on the counter, hold his hands up and down steps, teach him to say "Momma" and we are good to go.  Right...

Now that I have a little mini-me on my hands, I am at a total loss of control of the reins on a daily basis.  He is so very, very smart.  He can talk circles around me before I know what is going on.  And the way he thinks about things is so complex and complicated that I cannot begin to keep up with him.  He is literal, argumentative, and thinks he is right about everything and knows more than the adults he encounters in life (including doctors and teachers).

And I wouldn't trade him for all the chocolate in the world.  But that doesn't mean that I immediately know the answers to his questions about why gravity works or how tornadoes form or what that weird rash on his leg is.  No, I do not know how to fix that broken toy or how to get past the boss in the video game that he is playing.  No, I do not know why the mean kids picked him to torment or how to get that piece of hair to lay down.  No, no no... I don't know!!

He looks up at me with those innocent eyes full of faith and complete trust and I feel like a complete failure.  If my memory serves me right, my parents always had the answers or solutions to everything automatically.  I never remember them telling me, "I don't know."  HOW DID THEY DO IT?????

I don't know that I am ready to be the one protecting Little Man from all the dangers of the world.  I still want to be the one being protected.  At the beach this weekend, I found myself scanning the waters for the bubble tops of jellyfish floating on the water and making sure that Little Man did not get carried away by the currents.  That's my dad's job, not mine.  He was always the one who carried me out onto the water in my float and made sure that nothing scary got to me or that anything bad happened to me.  I felt completely, utterly safe with him.  How am I supposed to make Little Man feel like that?  I don't know how.  How did my dad look every direction at once?  How did he keep from blinking or looking away that one second that the current could have grabbed me and taken me under?

Well, I know he has a lot of faith and a helping hand from a few guardian angels.  And I hope that I will do as good of a job as my parents did.  I am winging it and making it up as I go along, just like I do with everything else.  No, I don't know all of the answers, but Uncle Smartypants is just a phone call or Skype chat away and he does know the answers to 99% of Little Man's questions.  And I may not be able to look everywhere at once, but I have Deputy D who has really good cop instincts and is pretty good at protecting people.  And there is always Google image search and WebMD to find out what that weird rash is.  And when that doesn't work, I can just text a picture to my mom.  So perhaps I am in a pretty good position after all.

Greater Love Hath No Man Than This...

Today, I hope everyone takes a moment to stop and think about all the men and women and their families who have sacrificed to ensure our continuing freedom. Thank you to each and every one for all you have done and continue to do to keep us safe and free!!

I have several family members who have served in the military. I have uncles who served in the Army, Deputy D served in the Marines, and my dad traveled the world while serving in the Navy.

One of the biggest fights that Deputy D and I ever had was when we were first married and I made the mistake of making a comment that was something along the lines of him being a former Marine. Trust me when I tell you that most of these guys take the service to their country very seriously and there is no such thing as a former Marine. Once a Marine, always a Marine. And when I think about how much time he spent overseas, keeping our country safe, it makes me very proud of him.

My dad and his time in the Navy came up several times this weekend. How fitting that today is Memorial Day.

Among all of the skills that Dad brought away from the Navy, the most useful one for our family was his ability to take the items that a normal person would pack in a suitcase and fold and squish until it all fit into a small handbag. We never traveled light because we could cram so much stuff into our available space.

It's a pretty handy skill, and I think it stems from only having about a square foot of space to store all of your earthly possessions while living underwater on a submarine. He has this uncanny ability to see a small space and know exactly what he can fit into it, and keep everything packed nice and neat.

There is not an inch of wasted space when he is done. And it is not a hot mess... If you ever saw his work you would be amazed and would be in awe of his packing skills.

Although nowhere near the packing guru that he is, I did have a good teacher and grew up learning his packing secrets.

So when Deputy D came to me last week before we left for our trip and said that I couldn't pack anything else because the car was full, I went out, took one look, sighed heavily, mused about how much I miss my dad in situations like this, and then proceed to unload the car and repack it. With room to spare.

When we left this weekend, I took the last bag out to the car to find that Deputy D had carried everything out and left it spread out in the parking lot with the hatch door open. He waved at the car, said "Do your thing" and then walked off.

Among many other things I am grateful for, thank you Navy for enabling me to learn how to pack a million things into a teeny, tiny little space.

Wordless Wednesday - The Monkeys Have Escaped From the Zoo!

Footprints in the Sand

I love the beach, more than the normal person. I don't know whether it's because my mom loves it, too, and therefore we spent many happy summers there growing up or if it's just something inside of me that longs to be there.

I love the tang of the salty air, the roar and power of the waves, and the heavy scent of salt and sand in the air. It's my happy place, the one place I can always find peace and calm no matter what storms are raging around me in life.

I could sit in the beach for hours, just watching the ways and feeling the wind, letting the wind and waves carry away whatever heaviness is in my heart. For those few hours, is is perfect contentment and it feels like all is right with the world. And I can truly let things go while I am there. That is hard for me to do anywhere else.

Deputy D and I came to the conclusion that we are either going to buy a beach-house when we win the lottery, or we are going to retire on the beach. I think the retirement scenario is much more likely.

Granted, he was bored out of his mind most of the weekend. But he loves me enough to let me stay as long as I want because of how happy it makes me, and give him some toys to play with next time and he will be just fine. He's not much for staring at the ocean and contemplating the beauty and power of one of God's most awesome creations.

We are going back this weekend, so Emo Marie might be a little scarce again this week. But I have a project we are going to work on at the beach and I am sure that I will find some random ramblings to post about.

There is some drama that went on this weekend that I will post about soon, but I just don't have the words right now. I have to work through it all first.

For now, I leave you with the thought that when you only see one set of footprints in the sand, it is because you have someone carrying you through the really tough times in your life.

Wordless Wednesday - To Everything There Is A Season

Truthful Tuesday - Give Me a Bucket and I Will Carry a Tune

Last week, I was telling Deputy D about a conversation I had with the music director from the church we have been visiting.  The music director was inquiring as to whether I had any musical talents and if I would be interested in singing in the choir.  The soda Deputy D was drinking spewed out of his mouth as he laughed out loud.  Loudly.

"Well, did you tell him the truth?"  Deputy D was very amused by the whole conversation.  Way too amused for my liking.

Well, ok.  Truth be told, I cannot carry a tune.  Even if you did hand me a bucket to carry it in.  So maybe his merriment was a bit warranted.

And the rub of it is that I love to sing.  My brother was warning me not to see a movie because I would not like the ending sometime back in college, and I asked him how he knew that I would not want to see it.  His answer?  "The same way that I know that you crank up the radio to max volume and sing at the top of your lungs when no one is in the car with you."

How did he know that?  He was dead on with his assessment, but I only do it when I am alone in the car.  (Notice the switch to present tense here??)  Oh, wait.  Maybe it was my singing in the shower at the top of my lungs, terribly off-key, growing up that clued him in.

I love to sing when I am happy.  I love to sing when I am sad.  I sing when I am angry and when I am depressed.  I sing just because I am alone and no one can hear me.

The first time Deputy D took me to meet his parents, I was going through my 200+ CD collection and playing various songs on the trip back (it was about a four hour car trip).  I came across a popular song from high school, put the CD in, cranked the volume up, and sang it with great gusto.  Deputy D almost ran off the road he was laughing so hard.  He asked me to sing it again (without the background CD), laughed until he was in tears, and then told me that I had butchered the song so badly that he would not have known what it was if he had not heard the CD.

Well....boo on you.

Someone I was close to in high school (and who was very musically inclined) once told me that he thought my problem was that I was unintentionally trying to harmonize with everyone that was singing around me.  Who knows if that is true.  What I do know is that I have a very hard time deciding what key to follow when I am singing in a big group.

Or maybe it's a rhythm issue.  I had to quit marching band in high school because I could not march the patterns and play the music at the same time.  And I can't dance.  At all.  Deputy D will only dance with me to choreographed sequences that he is sure I can handle.  None of this freestyle stuff.  Somewhere out there in cyberspace, there is a video of me humiliating myself to Just Dance 3.  I hope that it never surfaces,  because I will be mortified if anyone sees it.

Or it could, quite possibly, be a combination of both.

At any rate, if you hear me singing to myself under my breath or humming off-key when I am concentrating (I hear that I do that sometimes), just listen for a few minutes and you will probably get a good laugh.  But it doesn't matter.  God gave me a voice box and said make a joyful noise.  And that is what I shall continue to do because, if nothing else, it makes those who love me the most smile and gives them a bit of amusement.

Make Something Monday - Sourdough Starter

You probably realize by now that I love bread.  I thought I would take a moment to post the recipe I used for my sourdough starter.  I know there are several different versions around, and I got this one from the Betty Crocker website.  Although it was a starter for a bread machine recipe, I have baked a loaf in the oven and it turned out really good.

Starter Ingredients:

1 1/2 teaspoon yeast (bread machine or quick)

4 cups warm water

3 cups all-purpose flour

4 teaspoons sugar

In a large glass bowl, mix the yeast into the warm water.  Be sure it is the largest bowl you have.  I had to go through three sizes of bowls before it stopped expanding and overflowing.

Be sure your water is not too hot, or it will kill the yeast.  It should be between 105 and115 degrees F.

Stir in the the flour and sugar. Beat with a mixer until smooth.  Cover loosely and let sit in the counter for a week (it will be bubbly and smell like a distillery).  The layer of liquid that forms on the top and smells like alcohol is normal.

Move to a 2-quart or larger container and store in the fridge.  I went through several different containers, but ended up with a small pitcher.  Just make sure that whatever you pick is not metal.

Either use the starter once a week or stir in a teaspoon of sugar.  If you use it, add 3/4 cup of flour and water as well as one teaspoon of sugar to replenish what you have used.  Also, let it sit on the counter overnight after you do this.  It should stay foamy and bubbly the whole time.

This is what a cup of the starter looks like after bringing to room temperature:

This is what it looks like straight out of the fridge before I feed it:

And this is what my loaf of bread from the oven looked like once sliced:

The Ties That Bind

I have been thinking a lot today about family and what really makes a family.

Divorce is so prevalent today, and I think there are more blended families than there are "traditional" families.  I have come to the conclusion that what ties a family together goes so much deeper than just being related by blood.

Most people do not know that in the eyes of the court, my Dad is technically my stepfather.  That's because for as long as I remember and from now until the end of time, he was, is, and will continue to be Daddy.  I have never thought of him as my stepfather, and never will.  He has been more of a Dad to me than anyone else ever could have been.  It's funny because people outside the family have often commented on things that we have in common, including things that are genetic.  What's even funnier is that in the past few years, Mom and Dad have both made comments to me about how I need to get tested for medical issues that have shown up with Dad and run in the family.  And I say "Ok yeah I should probably look into that" without giving it another thought.  That's how much of a dad he is to me.

I think that God puts people into our lives sometimes that become more closely bonded to us than blood because He knows that we need them and they need us.

When someone decides to marry a person that already has children, they have to make a commitment to love them and cherish them and honor them like they are their own.  There cannot be any discrimination between biological children and stepchildren for a family to thrive.  And I think that commitment should spill over to extended family.

One of my pet peeves is grandparents who do not treat step-grandchildren like their own.  I realize that they did not choose to marry the person, but they should honor and respect the choice of their child who did.  I lived it, and sincerely wish that no child ever has to deal with it.  I vividly remember an incident that occurred when I was young at my grandparents house.  I was feeling extremely ill.  I was nervous to tell them because even at that age, I could tell a difference in the way they treated my brother and me.  I was not able to make it to the bathroom before I started throwing up, and one of them looked at me and said, "Maybe someone should go help her?"  And then walked into another room.

No child should ever have to deal with feeling like that.

Family is complicated and hard because so many deep emotions and strong feelings are tied into the relationships.  It's hard enough with the people that you have known your whole life, it's even harder when you marry someone and throw a whole other side of the family into the mix.

Sometimes, they have a completely different lifestyle and background.  They can have a different way of doing things that boggle your mind.  They can have different family recipes and traditions.  It's important to keep in mind that it's the differences that make us unique and special, and life would be no fun if we were all exactly the same.

In my humble little opinion, it's important to respect the differences and try to find a middle ground to form a relationship.  In-laws seem to be one of the most difficult relationships to foster.  I have observed so many that are hostile and angry and never take the time to get to know one another for whatever reason seems important to them.  I have seen a select few that are a seamless transition and just expand and embrace the new family members like they have known each other all their lives.  If you have this kind of relationship, cherish it.  It is precious.

I don't know that I  have a point to my ramblings.  It's just something I have been thinking about today.  I guess my point would be that no matter what your family situation is, remember that family bonds are important.  You may not get to spend time often with family, but when you do it shouldn't be about arguing or grudges, it should be about bringing out what is most special in each and every person and sharing that with each other.

Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there!

The Monkey On My Back

Monkey bread... Oh, monkey bread.

I first sampled the deliciousness that is Monkey Bread in college.  My pastor's wife often made Monkey Bread for breakfast during our Sunday School class.  Since we met in her kitchen, it was easy for her to pull it out of the oven right as everyone was walking in for class.  I still remember the warm, gooey, yummy flavors of cinnamon and sugar.

I never attempted Monkey Bread myself until after my Pinterest addiction began and I came across a recipe for S'mores Monkey Bread.  I should know by now to read reviews before I attempt something or make a purchase, and people had many negative things to say about this particular recipe.  However, I did not bother to do this until my third attempt.  Yes, I am too stubborn for my own good.  Deputy D told me to give up after the first time.

Although the picture looks yummy and the recipe seems simple enough, there are WAY too many cans of biscuits called for and the coating made with the marshmallow cream and butter turns into a very sticky, hard caramel (and doesn't actually taste like marshmallow at all).  Because of the numerous cans of biscuits, I could never actually get the bread cooked completely through.  The bits that did cook on the very edge were quite tasty (minus the topping), which is why I made a few more attempts after my first dismal results.

I found a recipe for garlicky monkey bread that worked out fairly well.  However, this one only used one can of biscuits.  The outside was a little crunchy and I found the flavor to be a bit strong.

I have found many variations of monkey bread on Pinterest.  The number of cans of biscuits ranges from one to four.  Some pour butter and toppings over the balls of dough, some roll the dough in the butter and toppings before putting it into the pan.  Some call for rolling the dough into balls and some just say to throw the quarters into the pan.  Some cooks prefer the flaky layers biscuits and some prefer the regular.  However, the basic concept stays the same.  Add small pieces of canned biscuit dough with butter and your choice of sweet or savory toppings and then bake until done.

Seems simple, right?

Since I haven't been thrilled with any of the recipes I found online, I tried a version of my own.  I used two cans of biscuits and cut them into quarters and then rolled them into balls.

I then rolled them in butter and sprinkled with a bit of garlic salt.

I layered the rolls in the pan and sprinkled on shredded mozzarella cheese in between the layers.

I baked per the instructions on the biscuits, and then added a few extra minutes to be safe.  The outside looked nice and golden brown when I took the pan out of the oven, but there was a small layer on the inside that was still raw.   I think from now on, I will stick with just one can of biscuits.  That seems to be the only way my pan and oven like to cook the bread.

Overall, the taste was pretty good.  The only really bad thing was the small ring of raw dough.

I think the good thing about Monkey Bread is that you can be creative.  You can combine the biscuits with whatever flavors you like.  Do you have a favorite Monkey Bread recipe?  I would love to hear about your experiences and favorite recipes!

Wordless Wednesday - For the Padawan

Make Something Monday - DIY Glitter Keys

Trying to decide what to make for Make Something Monday, I came across a DIY tutorial on Pinterest for making glittery keys.  One of them used Elmer's glue and glitter and sealed with clear nail polish, but I figured why not just use glitter nail polish if that's what I had on hand.  My instinct proved correct when the next post I found said that she used nail polish because that's what she had on hand.

This was a very timely discovery because I am always mixing up my house key with it's twin on my key ring.  And Deputy D has many, many keys that look alike,and I never find the house key until the fourth or fifth try when I use his.  I could go buy key covers, but why not try this solution that costs no money and I can customize to meet my bling standards?

I put two coats of polish on and let dry 30 minutes between coats.  I sealed with a clear topcoat.  We will see how long it lasts.  But even if it rubs off, it was free and didn't take much time out of my day.  And it gave me a topic to blog about today!

NASCAR and Pepperoni Pizza Rolls

I am sitting here with Deputy D while he is watching NASCAR, and trying to decide what to blog about.  I was going through my food pictures and found the ones I took of the crescent pepperoni pizza rolls I made last weekend.  I really thought I had posted this one already, but I looked through all my posts and could not find it, so here goes!

I found a picture on Pinterest of really yummy looking pizza rolls made from crescent rolls.  However, it was not linked to a recipe, so I decided to just make one up.  After all, it could not be that difficult!

I rolled out the crescent rolls, and spread some sauce on them.  I used a mushroom Prego sauce that I had leftover from dinner the night before.

I added some pepperoni and shredded mozzarella cheese.

I rolled them up, and then brushed with melted butter and sprinkled on some Italian seasoning and garlic salt.  I then just baked per the directions on the crescent roll can.

Next time, I will use the smaller pepperoni and mozzarella cheese squares.  I think I will be able to roll them up better that way.  Also, I will be sure to spray the foil or pan with non-stick spray.  I was able to get them off ok, but they did stick a little.  But they tasted good and I think both Little Man and Deputy D enjoyed them.

Semi Homemade Donuts for a Lazy Saturday Morning

I was craving donuts today, but I didn't feel like going anywhere this morning.  Since I had a can of biscuits in the fridge, I decided to make the semi-homemade donuts that I first saw Paula Deen make on Food Network. You can find her recipe here.  It's a really simple way to make donuts, and you can customize the icing and toppings any way that you want.  Little Man loves it when I make these!

I start by making my icing.  My favorites are cinnamon sugar and chocolate, which is what I made today.  But I have also done just powdered sugar and powdered sugar glazed ones in the past.  For powdered sugar, just add some powdered sugar into a bowl.  For cinnamon sugar, I usually mix a half cup of sugar with a couple of teaspoons of cinnamon in a bowl.  For the powdered sugar glaze, start with a cup of powdered sugar and add a couple of tablespoons of milk.  Whisk until it is thin enough to glaze the donuts.  Be sure to add the milk a little at a time, because if you get it too thin it will just run off the donuts.  For chocolate, I just add a couple of tablespoons of dark chocolate cocoa powder to the mixture.

Start heating the oil.  I use a couple of inches of oil in one of my skillets.

I actually have a donut cutter that my dad gave me, but I have read on the internet that most people just use a large icing tip or bottle lid to cut out the center of the donuts.  Open of the can of biscuits and use whatever method you choose to remove the center of the biscuits and make a ring.  I roll the removed centers into balls and make donut holes for Little Man.

Put a metal rack on top of a cookie sheet.  Once the oil is hot enough, start frying the donuts a few at a time.  Be sure and flip them pretty quickly because if they stay in one place too long they get top-heavy and don't like to flip over.  This is especially important for the donut holes.

Once they are golden brown on all sides, place on the wire rack to let excess oil drip off.  While still warm, add the icing or toppings of your choice.  For powdered sugar and cinnamon sugar, just dip both sides of the donuts into the bowls and be sure the entire donut gets covered with sugary goodness.  For the donut holes, just drop them into the bowl and shake them around.  For the icings, dip one side of the donuts into the icing of your choice and them place back on the metal rack to let the excess drip off.

The one down-side to this recipe is that leftovers don't seem to keep well.  At least that has been my experience.  We try to eat these the same day because they definitely do not taste as good the next day.
Hope you get to try these if you are a donut lover!  Enjoy!

"Does Anybody Hear Her, Does Anybody See?"

If you know me, you probably know that social interaction is not one of my strengths.  I have been awkward and painfully shy all of my life.  I wasn't one of the lucky ones who was born with the innate ability to navigate my way through social situations smoothly.  I usually don't know what to say, and my jokes fall flat because I am nervous.  In big groups of new people, when they talk to me I  stutter and turn beet red, and then just usually shut up and let everyone else talk.

I have been told that I come across as being snobby.  I really don't mean to come across that way, it's just that I don't know what to say to people.  Once I get to know people, I am an open book and usually don't know when to shut up.  I have had some of my best friends look at me and ask if I really just told them that because it is something deeply personal.

Deputy D has taken me places and people have apologized and said they felt bad that I had such a horrible time.  Well, I didn't have a horrible time. I was just watching and listening.  That's what I normally do when we go to new places.  I watch and listen and soak it all in until I feel comfortable enough to contribute.  I listen until I know a little more about people and what they are interested in and like to talk about so that I can intelligently contribute to the conversation.

Growing up, I spent most of my life with my nose in a book because I didn't have to interact with the characters.  It didn't matter how I dressed or if I misspoke when I talked.  The characters lived out their stories in spite of me.  When teachers said the words "group project" or "oral presentation", I literally almost had a panic attack.  I would get nauseous and light-headed and my chest would get tight and I had hard time breathing.

Just leave me alone and let me stay behind the scenes and I will be fine.  Yes, I know you cannot live your whole life like that, and it has gotten a little better as I have gotten older.  One of the reasons is that I have had to deal with people on a daily basis in my current job, and I love it.  The people are great and I like to think that it has allowed me to stretch my wings and grow a little.  I have come a long way since Deputy D burst into laughter when I told him I wanted to interview for a sales job.

It's amazing that Deputy D and I made it past our first date, because there were many, many lulls in the conversation and he said pulling information out of me was like pulling teeth.  Lucky for me, Deputy D is stubborn and persistent and thought I might be worth the trouble.

I have also had a couple of really good mentors along the way to help pull me out of my box, and have belonged to an organization that has helped my grow my social skills in an environment I feel very safe in.  However, new situations, new places, and new people still really scare me.  It's hard for me to go new places where I don't know anyone.  I still feel that moment of panic when I realize that I am going to have to put myself out there and talk to people that I don't know.

I am letting you know all of this so that I can get on my soapbox and rant for a second.  If you are a group or organization that desires and wants new members, please realize that sometimes visitors are people like me.  They aren't always brave enough to break into groups to try and be included or jump out there and introduce themselves.

I have visited an organization twice now, where I was very obviously a new person.  The first time, I was by myself because Deputy D was working and not one person in the room spoke to me or introduced themselves until the leader walked in and told me his name.  They had a conversation without even acknowledging that I was in the room.  And it was a small enough group that there was no way that no one saw me.

The second time was a dinner situation where it was my entire family.  We got there pretty early and picked a table because not many people were seated.  And no one came to sit with us or let us know there was room at their table to join them once they started sitting down.  Deputy D and I were ready to leave, and only stayed because Little Man begged us to.  He wanted to hang around for the kids' activities that were taking place after the meal.  We spent the entire meal at a table by ourselves.

I understand that it is going to take some effort on my part, but for us to be left alone at a table the entire time when it was our first time visiting is appalling to me.  I feel like it is not important to the organization for them to get to know us or to help us get involved.

I wish they knew how hard it was for me to just walk through the doors and ask around until I find where I need to be and what is going on.  I don't think I will ever be at a place where I can just go interrupt a conversation so that I can introduce myself or just go sit myself with a group uninvited so that I am not alone.  I wish they knew that I was sitting there arguing with myself whether or not I had the courage to speak up and introduce myself to a room full of people because no one was speaking to me.  I wish they knew I was sitting there with my heart pounding, trying to work up the courage.

I guess I am asking you not to assume that people are snobby or angry or aloof when they don't just dive into a social situation.  There may be more to the story than you know, and it may be worth the time to reach out and talk to them.  I met my best friend in college that way.  I, as usual, had my nose in a book before class started, and she just plopped down beside me and started talking to me like we had known each other our whole lives.

I am working on my issues, and I am going to keep trying with the organization for Little Man's sake because he is doing so well there.  I just needed to get it off my chest, so that hopefully I can find a way to reach out and meet some people in spite of the fact that right at this moment, I just want to walk away and give up.


"If judgment looms under every steeple
If lofty glances from lofty people
Can't see past her scarlet letter
And we've never even met her
Never even met her, never even met her
Does anybody hear her? Does anybody see?
Or does anybody even know she's going down today?
Under the shadow of our steeple
With all the lost and lonely people
Searching for the hope that's tucked away in you and me"
~Casting Crowns