Archive for the ‘Freestyle Fridays’ Category

Shape Up

Friday, April 16th, 2010

Every April, Vogue puts the focus of their magazine on the “celebration of size and silhouette,” and makes the emphasis of their articles on the female body in a more healthful, rather than just fashion-full, way. I was actually pleasantly surprised; perhaps because I was reading this at a time when my shape seems to be deteriorating despite increased efforts at improving it. While I don’t want to rehash the entire issue, there were 3 articles that stood out to me in a very positive light.

The first attracted my attention because in my desire to find a new solution to my weight-loss issues, I was becoming slightly dazzled by the miraculous promises of a number of fasts/detox diets/miracle pills. Now, being ordinarily a very sensible, logical person who doesn’t like to do “weird” things to my body, I was even surprising myself at the desperateness I was feeling. So this first article grounded me, and I haven’t been back to the flashy “Order now! Lose 30 pounds in 30 days or your money back!” sites. It is titled Coming Clean, and addresses the foolish claims of many of these miracle programs. (I have not checked the research on this article, so yes, I realize this may not be entirely accurate either, but it was still an encouraging thing to read!)

It focuses mostly on the detox/juice diets, and recognizes the truths in many of the claims, but also provides the whole story. For example, pointing out that our bodies were already designed to flush out toxins—through the liver—and any the body can’t rid itself of are not sitting around in the colon, waiting to be cleansed, but are stored in fatty tissues like the brain. Also, these diets tend to make you lose weight because you lose muscle, which will also slow your metabolism for when you do go back to eating. My favorite claim they combated, though, was the euphoria many say they experience. In some study, they discovered that the endorphin system in starving animals kicks in a feeling of euphoria to ease the trauma of imminent death. Nice, huh?

The next article that followed was one on how to (perhaps) lose those last five pounds (I’d like to know how to lose the ten I gained while trying to lose the last five!). Anyway, I really felt in touch with the author, who aptly summed up my food experience when she said, “My self-control around food is right up there with my ability to speak Mandarin.” So, apparently, the next “in” thing for portion control is not in the measurements, but in the mind. She interviewed a social psychologist by the name of Ronna Kabatznick, Ph.D., who is a leading advocate of mindful eating. She makes the focus of eating on how you feel about it. How hungry are you really? And why are you eating? Beyond being aware before beginning, you’re also supposed to be aware while you’re eating—aware of the sensations your food brings about. Eat slowly, and with purpose and acknowledgement of each bite.

Another interesting tidbit in the article is that a study found that yoga practicers have a lower BMI than regular walkers and gymgoers. Admittedly, there are still plenty of gymgoers that I’m sure do just fine (and don’t even get me started on the apparent ease in which men seem to shed pounds just by deciding to!), but in the crazy life of a (somewhat single) stay-at-home mother to young children, the gym is nowhere in my foreseeable future. Of course, I also read this article a month ago, and remember being aware of my first pb&j sandwich afterwards, but nothing else beyond that. I loved reading the author’s journey though: “I’m aware that I’m eating a whole Toblerone bar at 10:00 A.M., but down it goes. I’m aware that I’m looking for something other than sustenance in the refrigerator, but I eat some filet mignon anyway. The only difference: I feel guiltier now.” I think it’s even more difficult to be mindful around grunting, begging, needy children, too. I already only eat when I can squeeze it in between child duties, but the encouraging message in the article is to just keep trying. Each meal is a chance to start over, and the authors journey did eventually have a pleasing reward, so maybe it can work for others too!

The last article was also inspiring to me, because it was written by the blogging-spectacular Julie Powell. Vogue approached her with a proposition to get fit and write about it (which also begs the question—if someone were going to pay me to really, really work on getting fit, could I get there? We all have our motivators…). So she did! She, of course, interviewed and got to choose a personal trainer, and had no kids to get in the way of her schedule, but had her own issues with traveling for her book tour (oh, the travesty!). But the article was still really inspiring, because she did learn how to get into a routine, and found that the more she made it a priority, the more she wanted it as a priority. And her work paid off as well, and she was able to continue her routine after her time with the trainer had ended. I guess I feel more like her success can be my success just because despite her great fortune, I feel like she’s a normal person. I know we’re all normal people, but I’m not sure I feel like I could ever be Jennifer Aniston, but Julie Powell—she’s attainable. (And while you can’t read her article online, you can read this.)

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Birthday Tea Party: The Plan

Friday, April 2nd, 2010

Ok. I promised I would get some info up on throwing a tea party birthday, and I’ve been awfully slow on my follow-though. So here is part two, designed to give ideas for what to do at the party. I like to think of parties in four parts: craft project, games, cake, and presents. But first, I’d like to talk invitations.

Invitations set the mood of the party, so a tea-themed invitation is a good start. Ideas include a simple tea bag-shaped invitation, cut out of white paper, or perhaps creating a large tea bag with translucent vellum paper and including the party information inside as the actual “tea.” I chose to use a teapot shape as the invitation and wrote the party information on the pot with a string attached to the top to look like the string of tea bag hanging outside. The label for the tea bag had the child’s name on it.

The front of the teapots

The information side

In order to get your teapot shape you could either print out a teapot image and trace one, or draw one yourself. I found a picture of a shape I liked and copied it as best I could. I think it turned out just great! Because the marker bled through a little, I decided to add the dual-color on the back of the teapot. Also note, we encouraged dressing up, because what little kid (especially girls) doesn’t love to dress up? So . . . on to the party itself.

Crafts are a good way to get a party started because it’s an individual project that kids can work on as they’re arriving, since inevitably there will be parents (like me) who show up late. Our party had an age range of 3-5, and had boys and girls so I just let Emma pick whatever she wanted to do, but I came up with quite a few options for her to choose from. Here are some ideas:

♦Make paper fans out of construction paper and doilies, for an extra fancy look. Let the kids glue on a doily and decorate however they wish, then fold the paper accordian-style and secure the bottom with a rubberband or tape.
♦For a simple project, trace teapot shapes for each child to color (or print out an outline; I have no printer so I used the teapot I had drawn for the invitation template and used it again for the coloring sheets).
♦Paint ceramic teapots or tea sets.
♦Decorate a small pot and plant a flower/plant. You could also use a teapot as a planter. (This would be especially fun if you had a tea party in a garden outside; sadly, February in Nebraska is not great for an outdoor party.)
♦Decorate fancy nametags out of cardstock for a place setting at the tea table.
♦Check a local craft store for inexpensive kids’ crafts. We only have a Wal-Mart here, but they had a nice selection, including packages of suncatchers, bead kits, or even foam puppets (which is what Emma wanted!).

Craft time!

So after everyone arrived and either finished their crafts or got bored, we moved on to games. We started with Emma’s favorite: Pin the _____ on the ______. Last year we had a princess party and we pinned the lips on the frog prince. This year it was a tea cup on a saucer. And being a little older, the kids weren’t scared of the blindfold!

Pin the teacup on the saucer

Pin the teacup on the saucer

We also used the previously colored teapot pictures for a game of musical teapots. We set the pictures on the floor and walked on them while playing music, and when the music stopped, they had to find a teapot to sit on. I don’t think they quite understood the game at this age, so we had to all hold hands and walk in the circle, and there was no mad rush to sit when the music stopped, but eventually we did get a winner!

The next game was a sugar cube relay. We split them into two teams and gave each team one spoon. Starting on one side of the room, they were given a sugar cube to carry on the spoon to the other side of the room where there were empty teacups waiting to be filled. The first team to fill their teacup wins. I had tested the coordination portion of this game before the party with Emma, and indeed, they were all quite capable of carrying a sugar cube on a spoon and walking to the other side of the room. What they didn’t understand was the concept of a race, and competition. One little boy kept waiting for the other team to catch up so they he wasn’t getting ahead of anyone. It was very sweet. Fortunately, they had fun, and they didn’t care about the concept of winning or losing anyway!

Dropping the sugar cube was a sad event

After that, we moved the party back to the table and distracted them by having them build towers out of the sugar cubes (this also served as a counting exercise, as we had to count whose was tallest!). I’m sure there could be many variations on sugar cube building—or even crafts with the sugar cubes. Just watch out for sneaky kids who pop them in their mouths when you’re not looking!

Those were all the activities we did, but I also considered making a tea party themed Bingo game, which would be fairly simple. You could also include personalized spaces for the birthday child, and you’d also have a game that you could play after the party that any kid would enjoy. Another idea would be some form of a tea bag tossing game. It could be simple, using different sized bowls and literally throwing tea bags into them for different point values. Or you could make little bean bags to look like tea bags, and use those. You could also throw them into actual teapots or get some cardboard and draw on teapots and cut out holes for different point values. This would definitely be for older, more coordinated children!

After games, we busted out the cake. At one point, I considered having snacks as well, but decided it really wasn’t necessary. I was just really tempted to make a lot of cute little sandwiches. But the cake was plenty, and we served pink lemonade in real teacups on saucers, which all the kids loved. We also had ice cubes shaped like flowers from trays at IKEA (I just had to bring IKEA up, I love it so!).

After that was the spoiling of my child, and then the inevitable opening and sharing of her plunder until parents were ready to take their kids home. Another successful birthday, that I can only hope she’ll remember a glimmer of later (hey, I still remember my bunny cake for my 4th birthday!). Stay tuned for one more post on the budget for such a shindig!

And as a separate note, I wanted to mention that I am going to be moving slightly away from blogging. As much as I enjoy it, it has been a catalyst to my cooking experimentation, and I’m finding that I really love the cooking. And once I’ve cooked, cleaned the dishes from my experiment, taken care of the kids, kept up with the house, and started fitting in a regular exercise routine, I’m finding that the something that’s gotta give has been my blogging. I don’t intend to completely quit; I’m just going to be a bit unpredictable!

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Anger Works!

Friday, March 12th, 2010

I’ve written before on my compulsive-perfectionist tendencies, and with those, comes a lot of anger when things don’t go as I planned, or as I think they should. It’s a bit ridiculous, but when I have a set order-of-operations that gets destroyed, I kind of snap. Even though I don’t like to admit it, it’s clear to me who Emma gets her attitude from when she goes into a tailspin instantly upon learning of a tiny change in the way she was expecting her day to go.

I’ve gotten a little better with some things. I usually have an idea in my head for how my day will go, and let’s say I have it in my mind that we will have dinner, watch a movie, put the kids to bed, and then read before going to bed around 11. Then a friend calls and says, “Hey, you wanna come grill out and play games?” My mind implodes a little. I desperately want to stick to the plan. It’s all perfect in my mind. But I like my friends, too. Used to be I would either stick to my plan and decline the socializing, or I would go but be incredibly stressed about the whole ordeal.

I know it’s ridiculous. And I’m improving. Once we moved to Texas and the opportunities to socialize lessened considerably, I found it easier to change plans on the fly for the sake of seeing other people. And I learned that just because I thawed hamburger to make tacos tonight doesn’t mean I can’t just make them tomorrow instead. I actually can. A bit freeing, actually.

But my temper is still present. And instead of being spread about in lots of changes to plans, it seems to bottle up and come to the surface for one particular change: unexpected shortened sleep period. By this I mean I get incredibly angry when my son wakes up earlier than he typically does, or naps for a shorter time than I know he needs (and I need!). I have plans for that nap time. I have certain things that I want to do that can only be best done without a whiny little thing crawling around my feet.

Earlier this week we had such an incident. It was partially caused by a fit-throwing 4-year-old who, for some reason, was staunchly opposed to going to the bathroom on her own, so I was already upset that she was being unreasonable, and then compounded on that was that her noise woke her brother after a very short nap. Mama was MAD. Instantly. Now, logically, I am well aware that my behavior is uncalled for and pretty immature. So this time I actually let logic lead the way a little. I still felt angry, but I chose to sweetly pick up my son and hug him, and then I plopped him on the floor in Emma’s room and told her to play with him. I then shut the door and left.

No yelling. No screaming. But I was still angry.

Knowing I needed to do something, and that taking it out on my kids was uncalled for, I took it out on my toilet. And sink. And bathtub. It needed a cleaning anyway, and I got it done in record time. By the time I finished cleaning the bathroom, I had expended all my anger energy, and was even in a better mood, as my bathroom was all nice and sparkly clean. And the kids were still happily playing together.

So, anger works! It works a whole lot harder than obligation or guilt, too. Now, I’m not saying you should just relish in constant anger so you can clean more efficiently, but everyone gets angry sometimes. And I found that cleaning is an awesome way to use that. So next time you’re angry—especially over something you can’t control—instead of yelling, or seething, consider cleaning.

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Birthday Tea Party: Teapot Cake

Friday, March 5th, 2010

Once Emma decided on a tea party theme for her birthday, I found I was slightly overwhelmed with information and ideas on the internet, but that on follow-through, many of them were pre-packaged kits that were just plates shaped like tea pots, or there just wasn’t enough detail for me. So I’m creating a three-part series filled with information on our party, in hopes that I can be useful for someone else looking to host a tea party. First, I thought I’d go over the steps of creating a tea pot-shaped birthday cake, and then I will go over The Plan, and then The Budget.

First of all, in making a cake for a tea party, I went through several ideas. The traditional petit fours would be an excellent choice (especially if not specifically for a birthday), and I also considered a regular 9×13 cake decorated with a miniature tea set on top, but I let Emma choose, and she wanted a cake shaped like a tea pot (and I’m always up for a challenge!). So this is how I went about creating my tea pot.

In order to save time and money, I bought two boxes of cake mix (strawberry and rainbow chip). The idea was to bake each in a bowl, in order to create the two halves to the circular teapot. I used the largest glass bowl that I have, but if you have a budget that allows it, you can also buy a mold in the shape of a ball, such as the one Wilton sells.

I baked my first cake, and it rose quite a bit, but the top got awfully browned, while the very center remained a little gooey. This was also the cake with pudding in the mix, though, so that may have impacted how it cooked. When cooking the strawberry, I poured some into a small bowl to create the lid shape, and I think having a little less batter in the large bowl also helped it cook better. It did not burn on top, and cooked all the way through. As you can see in the picture, even with less batter, the strawberry cake rose more than the rainbow one (and the rainbow one felt much denser).

Next, I cut off the top portion of the cakes and set the rainbow half on bottom (since it was so much heavier).

Bottom half of cake

Top half of cake and teapot "inspiration" (as well as cake scraps!)

Technically, Lloyd did all the cutting, and I was mixing up some buttercream frosting and tinting it to try to get a hot pink. I settled on bright pink, purple, and green (not yet tinted in this picture!).

Buttercream frosting

Next, I slathered a layer of frosting on the rainbow half of the cake, and then stuck the strawberry half on top. Then I covered the whole thing in pink frosting.

As I let the cake sit in order for the frosting to set up a bit, I tried tinting my marzipan for my handle and spout. I quickly gave up that pursuit, deciding it would be better just covered in frosting, and began forming the marzipan into the shapes for a handle, spout, and top knob. I then inserted toothpicks in the ends for connecting the pieces to the cake. *Note* I would not recommend using marzipan. It was much too soft. I think fondant must be the better choice, but I just love marzipan, so I wanted to make it work. It molded quite well, but I was afraid the pieces would be too soft and collapse so I froze them.

Marzipan spout, handle, and top knob

Next, I went back to my cake and attempted a technique I had watched here, but it didn’t work as well for me. To make her frosting look all smooth, she patted the cake with paper towels. And while my frosting did get a little smoother, it was left with little indentation marks from my paper towels, so maybe her paper towels were different, or perhaps her frosting was a little different. I’m thinking I may have just had a little too much milk so my frosting was softer and didn’t quite crust up as anticipated (I had made a smaller test batch earlier and it did crust and get shiny, so I definitely think the frosting itself was part of the problem). I then added my top piece of cake and frosted it as well.

Smoother frosting and top piece

After that, I got to move on to the decorating part, which will obviously be different for everyone. I don’t have fancy equipment to make flowers or cool designs; I just scooped my frosting into a Ziploc bag and cut off a corner, so I had to keep things simple.

The classic wording

And some polka dots and squiggles for the lid

I then stuck the cake in the fridge overnight and got out my marzipan pieces in the morning. As usual, I was running behind, so I quickly stuck the pieces on, roughly frosted them, and took a picture. Obviously, with more time,  I would have smoothed the frosting on the marzipan pieces as well. They were quite heavy, but they still stuck in the cake. Unfortunately, it only took about ten minutes for them to unfreeze and get droopy, and then they sort of slid off, which is why I would not recommend marzipan. Fortunately, Emma is only 4, and it really didn’t bother her.

The finished teapot cake!

It was very delicious, and I thought it was fun to make, even with a few things being less-than-perfect. My cake-baking days are not over yet! I’m thinking some cake decorating classes would be fun to take, too.

Stay tuned for more on Tea Party Birthdays…

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The Baby Choice, Part 2

Friday, February 19th, 2010

Ok, I don’t want this post to go on forever, so in my attempt for brevity, I’m sure I will end up leaving myself open for all sorts of arguments. Feel free, but also understand I’m just sharing my opinion. I am not trying to tell you what to do; only to express what is right for me.

(As a note, I will be talking about the reproductive process/elements. If that makes you uncomfortable, then don’t read on. Also, I realize I am not always being super-technical. If you want all the specific details I’m talking about, you can find them on any number of medical—and non-medical—websites. Or in a book, I’m sure.)

So after turning into a Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde-type person, I finally started to look into what I had been ingesting. After all, that was pretty much the only thing that had changed (I guess I ate less cafeteria food, too, but I know that had to be better for me!). I honestly can’t remember exactly when or how I got my information, but I know I did finally question what exactly the little pills were doing to my body.

The Pill has a lot of tricks to keep a woman from getting pregnant. First and foremost (and the one that doctors tell women), it stops ovulation. In other words, it tells your body you’re already pregnant so that you don’t release an egg that month. Ok. I’d say a little frightening because that just isn’t normal, but I could deal with that. Second, it thickens stuff up so the sperm have a really hard time swimming upstream. At this point, I’m still ok with it—after all, it’s more of an obstacle method. BUT, those first two measures don’t always work. After all, our bodies are designed to release that egg every month and sometimes that pill’s little trick just doesn’t fool nature, and the egg is released anyway. And sometimes those pesky little guys get through to the egg—after all, that’s what they’re designed to do, too—so what happens then?

The third way the Pill works is to make the walls of the uterus unsuitable for a fertilized egg to implant. This is where I have a problem. Parts A and B have come together at this point. I believe that’s called conception. But now, that egg, which contains all of its DNA, all of its plans for life, can’t hold on. And I personally can’t live with that. Knowing that I could have conceived a child every month that didn’t get a chance to live because I made my body inhospitable.

To many, that probably seems like a stretch. Like, why is that a big deal? After all, your body can naturally decide to reject a fertilized egg as well. And I’m aware of that. That is natural. But knowing that what I’m doing could cause a life to end that otherwise would have lived—even if it’s in the first days of life—is not something I can justify for my selfish nature of not wanting a baby.

So now you’re going to ask what I do (after all, I only have 2 kids after nearly 6 years of marriage). Barrier method. Condoms. They have worked 100% of the time for us. And if you’re thinking of arguing that we’re killing living things, then don’t. Sperm die all the time. Only one gets to the egg on a good day; otherwise, they all die. They no more make up a person on their own than skin cells do. So I’m ok with contraception—methods that prevent conception from ever occurring. But I view the Pill as birth-prevention, not conception-prevention.

So really, that’s it. That’s my one reason why I just can’t be ok with its use. I’m not crazy about all the possible side-effects, and I’m especially wary of the pills that only use the placebo once every 3 months, and for those reasons I would probably choose to shy away from it, but even health risks would not make me 100% opposed (after all, I only know of a very few who have had serious side-effects). And if I found out that I had some health issue that the Pill could help fix, then I would absolutely consider taking it again—but I’d still use condoms (and probably get a different hormone dosage than the first time!)

I’m not trying to convince everyone to stay away from birth control, and I’m not offering solutions for people who have latex allergies or other health issues. I’m not a doctor. I am no one with any right to tell anyone else what to do (except maybe my own kids), but I just wish someone would have told me a little more about what I was getting myself into. I know it’s hard to know what to do. I’d like to say there shouldn’t be any contraception; if you aren’t ready to have kids, then don’t have sex. Don’t get married. But a marriage without sex isn’t healthy, and I think we’re a little better off not birthing small army regiments and dying at 30. So a little control is nice.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

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The Baby Choice

Friday, February 5th, 2010

Originally, I intended to use my Friday posts for some potentially controversial topics, but so far I really haven’t delved into any. So I’m starting now. And I’m not writing this in order to say I’m right and you’re wrong, but really just because I want to state my opinion; what’s right for me. I’m not big on getting into deep discussions with my friends unless I’m specifically asked my opinion, so here I have complete reign on what gets said, and I’d like to take my turn to speak. That being said, I know many will disagree with me, and that’s just fine. I’d love it if everyone saw things the way I do, but I know that’s not realistic. And if these posts generate more discussion in my personal life, then great! Understand: I am NOT making a judgement of you in thinking about something differently.

To the point. Today I am not opening up a discussion on the pro-life/pro-choice debate, so don’t worry. I feel like that’s been overdone, but if you’d like my opinion, then ask me some time. Today I am getting on my soapbox over birth control. When I first started thinking about writing this I was struck for the first time by the term “birth” control itself. Really, that’s what we’re controlling, right? We don’t want a birth, and in fact, when we use the term birth control we are typically referring to the hormonal method, or The Pill, which stops birth, not conception. So that’s what I want to talk about.

A little history on me and my journey to my opinions: I don’t really remember ever having a talk about things like sex and babies and birth control as a young girl. I was pulled out of every sex ed class offered through school and instead my mother would have a little homeschooling session on some other exciting topic—like rocks (seriously!). I do remember the one time my mother tried to have The Talk with me, and in response to her question, “Is there anything you want to know?” I recall saying, “Not really. I mean, if Adam and Eve could figure it out, I’m pretty sure I can.” And that was the end of her attempts (unless I’ve just mentally blocked out the actual talk; suppose that’s possible).

Once in high school health class, I was finally allowed to learn the basics of how things worked. At that point it was just like any other homework, though—learn the terms for the test and then forget about it. I never watched any awkward cartoons explaining things, and I never underwent any television-stereotypical banana/condom exercise. So I pretty much filled in all the blanks through my friends and television.

When I got engaged I did the typical (well, I’m guessing it’s typical) medical exam and blood test (although I was a virgin, the whole thing just made me nervous, and I had this secret fear that somehow that test would reveal some awful STD, and then nobody would believe me that I had never had sex), and then I had some time alone with the doctor where she brought up birth control pills, and I just nodded like a bobble-head and listened as she told me what to do. I got a couple free samples and I was on my way. There may have been some passing remarks made about it between my parents and me, but there was no discussion, and certainly no suggestion that I should do anything else.

So I began taking the little pills every day, and I really don’t recall there being much difference in anything about me when I first started taking it. It certainly didn’t have the magical skin-clearing effects I was hoping for, and everything else happened about the same, except that it was like clockwork. No, I didn’t notice any changes until after we were married. And then Lloyd noticed them too.

Some nights I would lay on the couch and cry for hours. Other nights I would yell and scream at Lloyd for small, ridiculous reasons. My moods were about as predictable as the weather (when have you known the weatherman to be right?). It was weird. I was myself, but I had this sense of being out of control, and of watching myself and wondering who the crazy woman was. I had once talked with a camp counselor about her similar experience with birth control, and just like her, I decided changing the way my body works was not the solution for me. I know there are different levels of hormones and doctors advocate just finding the one that works for you, but I was done, and I was ready to start thinking for myself . . .

Now you know the beginning of my story. I’ll let you know my discoveries next time!

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Zuppa Toscana!

Friday, January 22nd, 2010

Today I am sharing with you a fabulous recipe; one that has been tested on real live subjects two times, and passed with flying colors both times! The first time I made it was just for Lloyd, and he enjoyed it so much that I made it again over the holidays for all of our family.

As usual, I tweaked this recipe because I liked so many things about a few different recipes. Also, as usual, I sort of guessed on some of the amounts, so I apologize about that, but I think it’s pretty easy to recreate without exact measurements.

Ingredients:
1 pound Italian sausage
1 1/4 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
4 slices bacon, cut into 1/2 inch pieces
1 large onion, diced
1 T minced garlic
approx 32 oz chicken broth
4-6 potatoes, thinly sliced
1 cup heavy cream, or milk
1 pkg tortellini

Cook the sausage and red pepper flakes until browned, and then drain and set aside. (I used my biggest pot; the original recipe calls for a dutch oven, which I don’t own, but the pot worked fine). Cook the bacon until crisp (this part seemed to take the longest, and I also used more than 4 slices of bacon the second time I made it—after all, I was feeding 5 grown men!). Drain the bacon, but leave a little bit of the drippings in the bottom with the bacon. And it’s also fine if a little bit of the sausage is still in there; you don’t have to be really picky because everything is ending up in this pot eventually anyway.

Next, add in the onions and garlic, cooking them until the onions are translucent, or about 5 minutes. Then add your chicken broth. You’re trying to make a thick soup here, but keep in mind that you will be adding potatoes and pasta, so there needs to be plenty of liquid to soak up. The original recipe called for over 60 oz of chicken broth, which seemed like a lot to me. I used one of the large boxes of broth, which I think was around 32 oz. Feel free to experiment with that part; I guess it depends how soupy you like it, too. I bought lots of broth, but when I was pouring it in, it just seemed like too much.

Bring it to boil over high heat, and then add the potatoes and continue to boil until the potatoes are tender (about 20 minutes). About 10 minutes into the boiling, add the tortellini as well. I’m sorry I can’t remember the actual size of the package, but it was probably around 12 oz. (I got the multi-colored kind for Emma.)

Reduce the heat to medium and add the heavy cream or milk (I used milk because I forgot to buy the heavy cream and it turned out just fine). Also add the cooked sausage and heat the whole thing through. Then serve it with a smile, and maybe some salad or something.

This recipe is very heavy, but really delicious. Emma even liked it when I used mild sausage. The second time I used hot sausage, though, and it was too spicy for her. There were no leftovers, and even Lloyd’s dad ate quite a bit, which I took to mean the recipe was a keeper, as he typically only eats raw foods. So if you’re looking for another way to serve good ol’ meat and potatoes, here it is!

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Thanksgiving Cannoli

Friday, November 27th, 2009

The November 2009 Daring Bakers Challenge was chosen and hosted by Lisa Michele ofParsley, Sage, Desserts and Line Drives. She chose the Italian Pastry, Cannolo (Cannoli is plural), using the cookbooks Lidia’s Italian-American Kitchen by Lidia Matticchio Bastianich and The Sopranos Family Cookbook by Allen Rucker; recipes by Michelle Scicolone, as ingredient/direction guides. She added her own modifications/changes, so the recipe is not 100% verbatim from either book.

Well, this challenge was not so great for me. I probably should have picked some weekend when I’d be alone to do my cooking, but I thought it might be fun to wait and make them while my grandma was here. As it turned out, the kids were crazy the whole time and I ended up doing most of the work after Grandma was in bed or while she was playing with the kids, so we really didn’t do any of it together. Oh, well. Here’s my story anyway.

I finally started my challenge Tuesday night, around 11, after everyone except myself and the baby had gone to bed. I was planning on mixing up my dough (which needed to sit in the fridge for at least 2 hours) and filling. Surely this couldn’t take too long; after all, I had watched a video earlier of a chef making cannoli, and it only took him 5 minutes. I left III playing on the floor in the living room where I could see him, and where he was perfectly content, and I got started.

I knew I needed to drain my ricotta for the filling, so I thought I would do that while I made the dough. Upon reading a little closer, I discovered I needed to let it drain for at least an hour, so at this point I decided that I would be making the filling in the morning, and I’d be done even sooner than I thought. So I grabbed a bowl, a strainer, and my cheesecloth.

I didn't realize there was so much cheesecloth! How much are you supposed to use??

I didn't realize there was so much cheesecloth! How much are you supposed to use??

I cut some of it off and then plopped my ricotta cheese into the bowl, covered it with plastic wrap, a towel, and weighed it down with some applesauce. I thought it was a pretty funny sight in my fridge:

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So then I moved on to the dough. Things were just zipping along, and I was feeling so optimistic and excited. I kept thinking how wonderful it was to be baking late at night, and how much I am not a morning person, and how thankful I was that III was being so amiable (although I would have preferred him to be sleeping!). Anyway, the first part was easy; I mixed together all of my dry ingredients, and prepared to turn it all into a nice, soft dough.

I even enjoyed using the vinegar, which reminded me of a bottle of vodka; later, I would wish it was vodka...

I even enjoyed using the vinegar, which reminded me of a bottle of vodka; later, I would wish it was vodka...

Now, the directions said you could mix it by hand, but then it kept talking about putting it in your food processor, which I don’t have, so I kept mixing it by hand. I lightly incorporated the oil, then the vinegar, and then the wine, waiting and waiting for it to turn into the nice soft dough as directed. Then I figured it would just take me longer since I was mixing by hand, so I stirred and I stirred. Then I became impatient and thought maybe I’d try my little hand mixer to speed things up. So I brought it out, and in the little areas it managed to mix, I guess it became dough-y, but it kept clogging up the mixer:

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So then I tried dumping it all into this tiny bowl mixer, which also failed to do anything but dirty up another dish for me, so I dumped it back into my original bowl. It was still dry and crumbly, so I thought perhaps I needed more wine, and added more in tiny increments. It helped very little. Naturally, I began going back over every step I had made thus far, trying to determine where I erred. Maybe I didn’t count my oil correctly; so I added more oil. I gave up on the spoon and just started mashing the dough together, willing it to stick.

Of course, at this point III also became unhappy. He pooped his pants and had crawled into the kitchen and was sort of whining at my feet. The smell did nothing to help my mood. I had been mixing for nearly an hour and I finally gave up. I stuck my ball of elephant skin in the fridge and took care of the kid. I went to bed rather unhappy.

The ball of elephant skin

The ball of elephant skin

I had come this far, so I knew I couldn’t quit. I at least mixed together my filling the next day, making some with chocolate chips, and some with mascarpone cheese and pumpkin (just followed the original recipe; didn’t get all creative). My mood was slightly improved by the yumminess of this part—and the lack of disaster.

I proceeded to attack the dough, despite crazy kids and an increasing feeling of hopelessness as I pulled the dough from the fridge. I tore the ball in half and began beating it with my rolling pin. Some time later it started to thin, but not in a nice, smooth consistent manner. It kept cracking and pulling apart, but I was determined. Just imagine me beating and rolling, and stopping to help the kids, and then more beating and rolling until I finally got it thin enough to cut out. Repeat this process for at least an hour.

Found a lid to make my circles

Found a lid to make my circles

Finally had 8 passable pieces

Finally had 8 passable pieces

I thought they at least looked nice at this point

I thought they at least looked nice at this point

As you can see, I baked my cannoli instead of frying, simply because I didn’t want to deal with the mess and massive waste of oil. Do they seem a little purple to you? No one else’s seem to look purple, but mine did. I used red wine, but that’s what the recipe called for . . . maybe it was the extra drops I added. Anyway, I had read to put them in a 500° oven for 10 minutes, so I put them in and set the timer for 7 minutes. I was again disappointed.

My burned cannoli

My burned cannoli

The thicker ones didn’t burn as much, and were mostly edible, especially once filled. I managed (with the help of Lloyd) to roll out another 8, and only baked them for 5 minutes, which still ended up with blackened bottoms, but not as much as this first batch. They did bubble up a little, which I thought was perhaps a positive thing, but I didn’t expect them to look like the fried kind anyway. So I filled them and ate them, and was not awed, but at least I had some dessert for Thanksgiving!

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As an after-note, they still tasted a little wine-y, even after being cooked. And still have half the mound of dough in my fridge . . .

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The Sunday Blues

Friday, November 6th, 2009

Going to church with children is like a chore. When they’re tiny, they usually sleep the whole time, but the new parent is so worried about neglecting the little narcoleptic that he/she spends the entire time looking at the baby, or rearranging the blankets on the baby, or adjusting the cute little outfit so that baby looks perfect for all the after-service gawkers. Then baby gets bigger and Mom spends the entire time feeding the baby in the nursery, and once the kid can last through the morning without eating, he’s usually discovered that he has a voice which is really fun to use. So then the parent either spends the entire time shushing and entertaining the baby, while trying to ignore all the heads that keep turning around (really? It’s a baby. Did you really have to turn around to confirm that?), or spends the time walking around the foyer, pointing out the sparkles in the bulletin board for the hundred-millionth time. One can be left wondering, Why do I bother?

In case you hadn’t caught on, this is all from first-hand experience. We’ve reached the stage where I can be present for the singing because III is either entertained, or can’t be heard beyond the people immediately around us, but as soon as things quiet down and I want him to sit on my lap, he starts wiggling, or grunting (he is quite the grunter; it’s his only form of communication), and then eventually crying. So I get up and play with him for a while in the “Crying Room,” which really needs to be wired for sound because all I hear is a muffled sermon, and that’s only when III takes a breath to wind up for more grunting. When he gets mad there I move on out by the front doors and just walk around with him until church is over. We get to visit with all the men heading to and from the bathroom (seriously, it’s the same ones every week, and it’s never women—what’s up with that?), and by the end he’s getting really cranky and screams loud enough to be heard in the auditorium anyway.

So I wonder some days why we go. It’s not like we’re getting much enrichment out of the lessons (well, maybe Lloyd is), and we don’t get much fellowshipping in because we leave so we can get crabby-pants fed and in bed. But we also recently started sending Emma to the children’s church during the sermon, and she really enjoys it. This is another topic I’m not so sure about. I like the idea of children learning to sit quietly, and Emma does pretty well, so I don’t think it’s asking too much. But there is also one less child to pay attention to when she goes to children’s church, which is an incentive from the parent-perspective. And I guess it depends what they’re doing. Emma comes back telling Bible stories and singing songs that I remember singing as a kid, so I feel comfortable that she’s still learning joy in the Lord. If it was just play time, I would definitely keep Emma with us. That’s just me.

Anyway, Emma getting the experience is a large part of why I decide to still get us out the door Sunday mornings. When I say experience I don’t mean just the chance to be entertained, but the idea that we put aside a day that is for worship, even if it ends up being obnoxious babysitting. The experience of meeting together with people, and seeing that we sit still and respect what is going on around us. Seeing other people pray, and instilling a level of comfort in communicating with God. Honestly, some days it is only the desire to teach my daughter that makes me want to go. When there is a little baby involved, it is difficult to feel driven by faith. It stresses me out. Not that faith is about feeling (I’m getting all muddled up here, and I don’t want to be writing forever, so please forgive me, but I don’t have time to hit a ton of theological points), but I mean that showing up to walk around with my kid does not feel like worship, and does not fill me with desire to return.

And then I think maybe I’ll just skip once. Just one little time. And it’s not so much that I feel guilty about that (I don’t think we should go to church out of guilt), but a bit of sadness, or fear. I know I could just sleep in and skip all the drama, and Emma might not know the difference since she really doesn’t understand days of the week yet, but I think it’s a slippery slope. I already make so many concessions that I’m not proud of, and I would like to change, and I know if I open that door to absence, then there will truly be an absence in my life. It’s hard some Sundays. Really hard. A bit depressing. Some days I don’t get to talk to anyone except the “Oh, my, his hair just keeps getting redder” conversation (really, I think I understand why redheads have a temper). But I’m not going to give up, and if you have kids, or have some other form of the Sunday blues, then please don’t give up either. If our biggest obstacle in worship is cranky kids, or we still don’t feel entirely plugged in to a new church family (I’m learning this bit is hard, too), then I think we’re still pretty blessed, and we shouldn’t take that for granted.

“It’s just not worth it” is totally a lie. It may not feel worth it, but it’s not all about feelings. And I’m sorry to get all preach-y here, but this is part of my life, too. Part of what I’m figuring out—part of the crazy balance of motherhood. I don’t always get it right day-to-day. I’m not really that good at showing Jesus in the daily grind, but I can keep showing up, and not giving up, because lifestyles are formed by habits, and habits are formed by actions. This is an action I can take. Even when mixed with the blues.

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Homemade Halloween, Part II

Friday, October 30th, 2009

Considering Emma’s costume worked so well, I figured III’s would be a breeze. At first Emma wanted him to be Pooh Bear, but I talked her out of that and convinced her that he would be way cuter as a bumblebee. I figured that costume would be easier, and would be cute since she was a flower. But then Lloyd reminded me that many months ago we thought it would be hilarious to dress him up as a garden gnome. He’s got such big ears and a big head—and a cute little grin! After once again convincing Emma that a bumblebee was not the way to go, and a gnome was really much better, I set to work! (I know I really didn’t have to convince my 3-year-old, but I like letting her feel like she’s involved.)

I looked at a lot of pictures, and decided to sort of follow the Travelocity gnome. I considered looking for little boots, and Lloyd wanted me to make little clogs, but then I remembered that he had some little brown, footed pants, and decided that would be good enough (after all, he’s not even one yet, he can’t walk, and he would probably just pull any shoes off, so I know the pants would stay on. Oh, and I already had them so I wouldn’t have to spend any money.). Next up was a blue shirt, a belt, and a hat. The shirt was easy, and I thought I would just use one of Emma’s belts turned inside-out to the black side. So then I went back to the craft store for more felt—red and white.

My brains must really be going to mush without being in school anymore, because I sat with my piece of red felt for a long time wondering what shape a cone is when it’s out flat. Eventually I gave up and consulted my handy friend the internet. I found 3 different versions of how to make a cone hat. One involved a full circle, one a half circle, and one a quarter circle. Considering I was making his costume an hour before our church’s trunk-or-treating, I knew there could be no mistakes. So I got out some paper, taped pieces together to be the same size as my felt, and experimented with all three methods. About the time I got done making paper examples, III woke up. So I now had a model! He was not as excited as I was. He thought he was waking up to get fed, and instead I just kept sticking things on his head.

Anyway, the circle cone was too short and wide, and the other two made nice cones (the quarter-cone being nice and tall), but none of them came close to fitting around his big head! Gnomes are supposed to have their hats down to their ears and these hats didn’t come close to fitting. But I had no more time and no more felt. So I decided to go with the half-circle, as it had a wider base, and was fairly tall. Now, in creating my model every website said to be very careful about making it even. They said to use a compass or a pencil with a piece of string tied to it. Of course I have no compass. I did find a pencil. And instead of string, I turned to my ever-trusty dental floss (also good for tying up a turkey to cook!). I was finally ready to cut my felt.

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Taped the floss down at the center of the felt.

I also taped the felt down to the floor to make sure nothing moved. Then I traced my half-circle. Then I cut. By this time, III was starting to get cranky where I left him in his bedroom. He was even happier when I came in and stuck another thing on his head and then left again. But it was almost done! For some strange reason, the felt hat turned out much wider at the base than the paper one had, and this one actually fit on his head. So I wrapped the sides around and hot-glued the seam.

The cone

The cone

Next I added white eyebrows to the brim of the hat, and then took a break to feed the little gnome! After he had a little something in his tummy, I took advantage of the fact that he was stuck in his highchair and brought out the cone hat once more to measure the size for the chin strap. In between bites I attached elastic to the inside of the hat. Last, I cut out a beard-like shape to attach to the elastic. I figured he would never let the beard stay on, or would at least try to eat it, so I wanted it to be removable. I had some sticky Velcro dots laying around, and I put one on each side of the beard “straps” and the elastic band. We were ready a little late, but that’s pretty normal.

Here he is!

Here he is!

The belt ended up not really staying on, but the beard covered it from the front anyway, so we ditched the belt. Then he ended up pulling the beard off, leaving the Velcro behind, so I need to glue it back on (the fuzzy bits on the felt stuck to the dot, but then pulled apart from the rest of the felt). Still, I’m happy with the way it turned out!

Posing! (sort of)

Posing! (sort of)

The cost of this costume was $3.50 for the shirt (which can be worn when he grows into it!), $2 for felt, and then the leftover elastic and Velcro dots, which would add about another $5 if you bought them just for the costume.

Happy Halloween!

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