Making friends with cauliflower

So here's where I am at the end of the first month of clean-er eating and cooking for my family. I have traveled the following emotional journey:

Stage one: I can't stand YOU. Don't even talk to me about this. Pull the covers over my head and shut down in stormy silence. Emotional triggers from anorexic days and general unhappiness.

Stage two: I can't stand THIS. This is ridiculous. No, we do not need to invest in a professional grade blender yet. But, I love YOU and recognize that some changes need to be made. I will try.

Stage three: Where do you find arrowroot powder anyway? First forays into terra incognita.

Stage four: Flegling experimentation in the kitchen. I feel like I am camping in tents with the exilic Israelites each night I turn out a new dinner concoction. Manna from heaven meets the response, "What is this?"

 

Stage five: Find myself browsing pin boards for new recipes and ideas in my spare moments, and making lists of what I'd like to try in the kitchen on the weekends. Learn to "rice" cauliflower, and experiment with desserts made of egg whites, xylitol, and almond flour. We like "thin mints" that are actually thin. Happy to know that my man is finding success with the new program, and some relief from some health concerns.

I wonder if stage six will be my kids' compliance? My daughter asked if she could give up exercise for Lent, so we're not quite there yet, but we have made a few steps in a healthier direction, and for that, I am thankful.

 

Irish Eyes are Smiling

My husband has planned a fifteenth anniversary trip to Ireland. I have long been drawn to the magical mystical Emerald Isle, and we are going to visit next month (with only one teeny stopover for business). In preparation for this trip, I have been checking out children's books on the history and culture of Ireland to try and get a quick overview, if not up to speed, on all things Irish.

 

Today, Mom and I went to see Celtic Woman to celebrate her birthday (and as a tiny thank you for her beautiful willingness to stay with the grandkids while we are away). We listened to an amazing dancing fiddler. We heard transcendent songs of beauty accompanied by the harp and drums. We tapped our toes and did a little jig in our seats, wishing we knew how to Riverdance. We felt the call of ancient mother lands. (She is a McFarland, and my husband comes from the Fitzpatricks. My cousin played the "Amazing Grace" on the bagpipes at our wedding. You get the picture.)

I couldn't resist Target bin leprechaun mustaches for the boys for St. Patrick's day, and been so impressed with the life of a person that was about self-sacrifice to bring the gospel to the people that had enslaved him (and not about green beer).

 

I see the Cliffs of Moher in the scene when Harry Potter and Dumbledore search for the horcruxes.

I feel solidarity with the feisty rough-and-tumble who are not afraid to engage when necessary.

And we haven't even set foot on the island yet.

 

My favorite hymn reaches back to the 8th century...and was translated from Irish.

"Be Thou My Vision"

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart

Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art

Thou my best thought by day or by night

Waking or sleeping Thy presence my light

Be thou my wisdom and Thou my true word

I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord

Thou my great Father, I, Thy true son

Thou in me dwelling and I with Thee one

Riches I heed not nor man's empty praise

Thou mine inheritance now and always

Thou and thou only first in my heart

High King of heaven my treasure Thou are

High King of heaven my victory won

May I reach heaven's joys, O bright heaven's Sun

Heart of my own heart whatever befall

Still be my vision O Ruler of all.

 

Spring has Sprung

 

We are in that crazy in-between time in South Carolina weather where it's 80 degrees one weekend and below freezing the next. As I said my prayers of gratitude last night, I included "not sitting on metal bleachers for 4 hours in freezing temperatures" as the boys games were rescheduled.

Sunday, I got a bit of a sunburn dining alfresco with "my" college girls. Tuesday, I wore my thermal underwear in the house. We see the slightest hint of yellow pollen on porches and try to grasp the beauty before the season comes into full bloom (and around-the-clock allergy medications).

We turn our eyes towards the Easter season, but keep our winter jackets hanging nearby just in case.

 

Color Me Healthy

Today I ran the Color Run with my fitness friend. We try to have fitness adventures ever so often to keep ourselves motivated.

We have no idea who these people are behind us!

We stopped off at Whole Foods on the way home to gather earthy goodness. Whereas I feel in my element dancing, moving, or working out, I feel at the starting line when it comes to the in' s and out's of my man's new nutritional plan.

Sometimes it feels like that in my walk with God too. I'll have the Bible study part of my devotional time going well, but the intercessory prayer part feels sluggish. Or, I'll love serving at church one week, and feel overwhelmed the next. Thankfully, walking (and running) with Jesus is one step at a time. And there's a party at the finish line!

 

Difficult Conversations

Photo found on Pinterest via andruloyd.tumblr.com

This is one of my favorite Anne of Green Gables quotes. One that hopes to get it right tomorrow.

 

This week we have had an unusual number of difficult conversations with our kids.

I needed to ask forgiveness (and received it) when I blew it in a surge of PMS anger and frustration when one son fought me over whether or not he could wear shorts in freezing weather. His argument was that he would be indoors at the gym most of the evening at church and wanted to wear shorts for game time. This was logical. However, he wasn't wearing gym shorts. He was wearing the type of shorts that often shread in half during game time. I was tired of ruined clothes. I was tired of him refusing to wear a team T-shirt that he felt was too snug. I was tired of hard-headed, argumentative children who debate logically instead of comply with my parental wisdom and wishes. I was tired of battling my tween daughters who either have so much homework (or so little time management skills) that they were not prepared (again) to attend Wednesday night youth group. And, to intensify the drama, we were having this heated conversation moments before we needed to leave. "Fine!" I swore. Not only in front of my son. But at my son. Shameful. I tore the contested T-shirt off of him, deferred to his choice of shorts, threw him a hoodie, and we stormed to the car and drove off in a huff.

Ironically, and somewhat comically, as we were on the way to church we were reviewing the Bible verses the kids were to have memorized. Romans 3:23 was on the list. "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God". I had just given them an excellent sermon illustration, as well as opening a discussion on how even angels are capable of sin since 1/3 of heaven fell to pride. God redeemed the heated trying-to-get-out- the-door-moment and used it for good. He pointed them back to Himself. We got a new team T-shirt in a bigger size to ward off next week's battles. All was not lost. They saw their mother explode. They also heard her ask their forgiveness and gave it...with the condition that they be extended the same grace if they were to blow it anytime in the near future. (Darn smart kids.)

A few hours later, walking back out of the church through the freezing parking lot, I observed that my laid-back friend's child had on shorts and a t-shirt on and neither he or she didn't seem the least bit bothered. Come to think of it, her kids run around on the pavement barefooted on frigid New Year's Eve and she doesn't even bat an eyelash. I made a mental note to try and become less tightly-wound and more laid-back.

More grave issues were at hand. Another afternoon I asked my older children if they knew what cutting was and were they aware that five eight graders in my child's middle school academic magnet suffer from the desire to self-mutilate. We sat at our kitchen table and talked about stress, and depression, and bi-polarity, and drug addiction, and alcoholism, and suicide. They soberly understood that another seventh grade child had chosen to take his life at a nearby middle school last week. When I asked my son if he understood why we were having these conversations he replied, "Yes, but I don't think anything like that will ever happen in our family." I told him that I prayed that it wouldn't, but wanted our conversations to be open and honest and to be vigilant as a family should any warning signs appear.

This hymn echoes my desire to lead my family well.

"Lord, speak to me, that I may speak in living echoes of Thy tone...

O lead me, Lord, that I may lead .... O feed me, Lord, that I may feed Thy hung'ring ones with manna sweet.

O teach me, Lord, that I may teach the precious things Thou dost impart; And wing my words, that they may reach the hidden depths of many a heart.

O fill me with Thy fullness, Lord, until my very heart o'erflow

O use me, Lord, use even me, just as Thou wilt, and when, and where; Until Thy blessed face I see, Thy rest, Thy joy, Thy glory share.

Frances Ridley Havergal (1836-79)

 

Pancakes for breakfast = love

http://psweadoreyou.blogspot.com/2013/04/prints-for-brielle.html

 

This graphic design pinned from Pinterest made me smile. We have been experimenting with healthy foods and have come across a Thin Healthy Mama recipe made from cottage cheese and oat flour that we like. This is not just about getting breakfast on the table. This is a small victory in the land of Franken-foods and concoctions made from xanthan gum, flaxseed, and stevia. This is true love spoken in action.

For the littles it was heart-shaped bacon, heart-shaped cinnamon rolls, lunchables (which we never buy), pink milk and all things chocolate. Many thanks all ye pinners on Pinterest. You inspire me.

An outing scheduled to shoot bows and arrows for my cupids (thanks, Groupon) and an individual wish from each kid: one wanted an infusion water bottle, one wanted to see the new Lego movie, one wanted a new lunch box, and two wanted their own chargers. And a card and a chocolate from Daddy, from an earlier stop by CVS. He tells me many great men shop at CVS on their way home from work, and especially great men do so a few days in advance in case there is an ice storm and an earthquake!

We finished the day family-style. Mom came over for salmon and enormous strawberries dipped in Ghirardelli chocolate. Mmmmm. The kids stayed up and experienced the earthquake, but I slept right through it with sweet dreams.

 

Another day at home

Baby Olaf is going to be a "happy snowman" tomorrow. There was no room for him in the freezer. Too many bags of berries and salmon filets in there.

The skylights on "my yoga studio". I practiced Barre 3 and Zumba techniques while the rest of my family tried out the sledding conditions. I loved having time to hone my craft.

My extroverted man couldn't stand another full day at home, so he volunteered to brave the icy roads and pick up the groceries. He came home with a great many of the items and only commented, "Never again!"

I was content to stay in so long as my people were settled. I like being involved in all the things that make up our lives, but I also love to stay right where I am and get my ducks in a row. I have a strong need to grow, learn, and improve, and it's hard to improve when most of your time is replacing toilet paper rolls or trying to remember to eat up the leftovers before they turn slimy in the back of the fridge.

When I have the opportunity to be at home all day and not running around in carpool circles, I am often more tired than on a regular day. My learn-something, tidy-something, make progress genes come alive and I am a hurricane in my own house, bustling about from project to project. I suddenly notice the mildew on the back porch or the dust on the air vents. Cabinets that I haven't opened in six years suddenly call for organization and purging. I'm not sure why. I wonder if I will hustle and bustle around like this when I am sixty and my children have moved on. Is it a stage of life, or personality at work here? Hmm. Part of me cautions, "Isn't this when we should all be playing a board game together around the kitchen table?" And then I think, "Why mess up a good thing? Kids are happy. Mama's happy. They don't need you to entertain them right now. Get some work done while you can." Hooray for the apple t.v. upstairs so that I can live in my quiet bubble a little longer down below.

Some of my projects are truly work. But, some are just quirky compulsions. Like the journal I have expressly for recording interesting words. I have no idea what makes me want to write them down. I started as a kid jotting down colorful phrases my pastor would use in his sermons. I can't even listen to an audiobook while driving without jotting (without looking!) useful phrases on the clipboard that lives between the front seats of my minivan. I like to save words in case I ever have a chance to use them. Sounds crazy (even to me). Then someone comes along and makes a study and I feel better about my idiosyncrasies. Maybe they're not all that odd. Maybe, there's even a subtle advantage to being wired a little quirkier than many?

 

This article came to my inbox today. It helps explain introversion to more extroverted ones. If you have a moment, pop over and see what you think.

Love for quiet in a noisy world. Down time with tea and a stack of magazines sounds like a great evening. Married to an extrovert. Writer. Love for thought-provoking books and movies. Attention to detail. Would rather give a talk to a crowd of 500 than make small talk at a cocktail party about nothing important. Sounds like home.

 

http://huff.to/1d2j6xt

The Huffington Post | By Carolyn Gregoire

Posted: 08/20/2013 8:36 am EDT | Updated: 09/23/2013 12:31 pm EDT