Five Star Review!! 25 March 2014

Rachel@mostlytoday

Mar. 25, 2014


Five stars!  This recipe was perfect.  I did end up substituting 1 lb of broccoli for the asparagus when I realized my asparagus had gone bad, but I steamed the broccoli just like the recipe said.  I had to cook the bacon in two batches because 10 slices didn't fit in my pan, and I didn't drain it between batches because DS had a poo-splosion while I was still frying the first batch, and DH took over the bacon-cooking while I cleaned up the bathroom (had to launder the bathmat too because DS was so grossed out he vomited on the floor).  Because cleaning up DS and the bathroom took so much time, I skipped the quiche crust and just threw some chopped red potatoes in the bacon fat left in the pan.  Added some chopped green onion and Kosher salt to the potatoes and let it simmer.  For the rest of the quiche, I left out the eggs and half-and-half, crumbling the bacon into a bowl over the broccoli.  Then I tossed in the shredded cheese (I used cheddar because I didn't have Swiss on hand) and zapped the bowl for 2 minutes.  After 15-20 minutes the potatoes were cooked to perfection and the quiche was nicely warmed.  The kids and DH licked their plates!  The broccoli/bacon/cheddar combo was great, and the potatoes tasted almost like something I ate in Paris.  Next time I'll try duck fat instead of bacon fat.  Way to nail this French recipe, Michele!  Definitely a keeper.  (Although my photo of the quiche doesn't look quite like the one posted on the website.)

Ups and Downs, 28 February 2014

Today started with downs and ended with ups.  Jay and Z woke up first this morning, complaining of sore throats.  Not long after, G woke up with a hoarse cough and an intense whine.  Homeschooling today is going to be fuh-uhn, I moaned to myself.  (Seven-year-olds aren't the only ones who whine.)

The kids and I limped through the morning, getting a decent amount of homework done, although the subject matter didn't help our moods.  G's vocabulary exercise used a narrative about Anne Frank to teach words like "dreary," "tragic," and "appalled."  Not a cheery subject.  We did have a few nice moments together though, my favorite of which was standing just inside the garage, sticking our arms out into the fast-falling rain.

Because of the morning sore throats, I wasn't sure if the boys were going to get their weekly overnight stay with the FILs, but when I talked with Mrs. FIL around 1:00, the kids seemed to be acting/feeling pretty normal, so we planned on a 4:00 drop-off.  I happily dropped off for a nap, looking forward to saying goodbye to the kids for 18 hours and having date night with Jay.

At 3:00, I was awakened by noise from the vicinity of the Xbox 360: high-pitched crying from G, followed by yelled threats, followed by Z shouting, "I'm going to tell Mommy!!" followed by a frantic knock on my bedroom door, followed by indistinct tattling, followed by a wailing G stomping off to his bedroom, followed by the sound of muffled pillow-punching and a return of the hoarse cough.

It was at this point I texted Mrs. FIL and told her that the kids' emotional fragility indicated physical illness and they should probably stay home.  It was also at this point I felt particularly low.  I don't understand seven-year-old boys, I griped.  I'm so sick of the eye-rolling and the I-know-better-than-Mommy-does attitude.  He's way too sensitive.  I'm sure I wasn't this volatile as a seven-year-old.  Frankly, I had really been looking forward to getting rid of the kids for the evening, and now on top of my own disappointment I dreaded breaking the news to them.  Meanwhile, whimpers of, "This is the worst day EVER!" were floating from G's bedroom...and he hadn't even gotten the bad news yet.  I groaned. 

Then Jay called on his way home from work.

"Hey, so I hear the kids are too sick to leave tonight?" he asked.  I glumly answered in the affirmative.

"How about I pick up pizza on the way home, and we can eat it while we watch a movie, and then make popcorn," he suggested.

"Well," I brightened, "we do need milk anyway...so you could stop by the store to pick up the pizza and milk...and how about ice cream for root beer floats?"  Suddenly we had a plan for a fun evening and I had something positive to tell the kids!

It's amazing how well our sons respond to junk food + television.  There were cheers of excitement throughout the rest of the evening; in fact, when Z found out he could have a second glass of root beer, he cried out, "This is the best day EVER!"  G and I got cuddles on the couch instead of the discord we'd struggled with during homework this morning, and I further endeared myself to the kids by agreeing to watch a bit of a machinima show they and Jay enjoy.

But the true high of the day came when I tucked the boys into bed and settled into our little prayer time.  G prayed first.  "Dear God, please help the people with leukemia and the people with AIDS.  Please take away the AIDS from those people and make their bodies even more powerful than they were before.  And please help the people with malaria, and the ones with smallpox.  And please give orphans families, especially families who will understand their needs.  And I pray for the poor people, that you would give them lots and lots of money.  Amen."

Then Z prayed, "God, I love you.  Thank you for G and for my mommy and for my daddy and for all my family.  And thank you for you, God."

Standing by their bedside, all I could think was, Wow, I would have totally missed hearing these beautiful prayers from my beautiful children if today had gone as I'd planned.

As I gave goodnight hugs, G wrapped his arms around my neck and said, "Mommy, tonight was really fun!  But," he added, snuggling down onto his pillow, "the day did have some dreary moments."

All I can say to that is: I love seven-year-old boys!

Out of the Mouths of Babes, 22 February 2014

Today I got a beautiful, spontaneous, unbelievably precious gift from five-year-old Z.  As we were walking home through our neighborhood, he held onto my hand and began,

Mommy, I love you more than dandelions.

I love you more than trees with flowers.

I love you more than Rabber.

I love you more than Bunjy.

I love you more than parks filled with funness.

I love you more than bushes.

I love you more than rose bushes.

I love you more than our house.

I love you more than Liam.

I love you more than Evan.

I love you more than Stephen.

I love you more than Kevin.

I love you more than Katie.

I love you more than the universe.

I love you more than grass.

I love you more than Papa and Gigi.

I love you more than spring.

I love you more than summer.

I love you more than July.

I love you more than pumpkins.

I love you more than pumpkin pie filled with blueberries and cherries.

I love you more than my room.

I love you more than the punching bag.

I love you more than my stuffed animals.

I love you more than fish.

And with that last statement, his round eyes smiling into my misty ones, he gave me a hug and ran off to play.  I don't think I'll ever recover.

The Wheels Are Turning, 14 February 2014

Today I rode my bike for the first time in years a while.  I was inspired to ride the 20 minutes to work so that I could get some exercise out of the morning before my kids got home from their overnight stay at the FILs', and it did feel good.  (Except on my sitter.)

The funny thing about being inspired to ride today is that I've spent my free time over the last 24 hours looking at car prices!  Jay and I are thinking and praying about what to do with the extra income I'm getting this year, and while our trusty 2004 Honda Civic is still trusty, it needs new paint, and I'm tired of not having cruise control or power windows, and I drive the kids around so much that I'd really rather drive something that looks sexy.  (Let's be honest here.)

But I dunno.  Spending thousands of dollars on something we don't need right now is a big decision.  Last night Jay and I watched an episode of a series on the history of Britain that covered millions in India and Ireland dying of starvation during the mid-Nineteenth Century, and I'm asking myself, "What am I doing to aid the starving of today's world?  How would having a new(er) car benefit the world?  So I'm grumpy driving my current car.  So what?"

And yet I'm considering taking the Civic to get a shampoo today and see if I get any bites on selling it...and a car dealership just sent me some quotes...and I can imagine myself zipping around town in a fuel-efficient, comfortable car that doesn't turn heads because of its ugliness...and I just don't know.

Don't think there's one right answer to this--although I'm sure some people would say there definitely is a right answer, one way or the other.

Gonna keep praying.  Want to do what's best.

Introvert Meter, 07 February 2014

Know what my favorite part of being alone in a quiet house is?  The quiet.  Oh, and being alone.

Today I awoke with one main objective: Recover.  No, not from the flu or a nasty shock or an injury, but from people.  Perhaps some of you don't know this, but I'm what I like to refer to as a "high-functioning introvert," which means that I--generally--don't hide in the corner during parties and--generally--love having people over at my house and--generally--can keep up an animated phone conversation, but all of those things expend energy that isn't recharged until I get some alone-time.  The more people-energy I use up, the more recharging I need.

Like this.

Yesterday I made a big mistake and skipped my normal two-hour siesta (my daily prescription of being alone in my bedroom with the door closed, during which I read some Scripture and then sleep).  I've skipped my naptime before without my Introvert Meter reaching critical lows, but the combination of 4 hours of office work Wednesday morning, followed by 2 hours of rowdy kid music classes, followed by co-leading a worship service, followed by a choir rehearsal; and then on Thursday driving five goofy kids 20 minutes to school, followed by grocery shopping (yes, being in a grocery store uses up people-energy, especially if one of my kids is with me), followed by a visit to a children's museum with a friend and her son--great hang-out time, but still depleting the Meter--, followed by helping both boys in woodshop at school, followed by driving goofy kids back from school, followed by making some work-related phone calls, followed by making dinner, followed by doing homework with the kids...!!!

I drove away from the house yesterday evening for my 7 p.m. Al-Anon meeting, but when I got there, I parked my car and sat staring out the windshield for about 5 minutes.  Each time I pictured getting out of the car and joining my friends in the meeting, I felt like throwing up.

I think even this kind of meeting would have been too much for me!

It was at that point I realized I was running on empty, and I drove straight back home, put on my pjs, closed the bedroom door, and sat in bed under the covers.  All I could do was stare at the wall.

By 8:00, I was asleep.

I'm gonna give myself credit and say that I look a bit chippier when I have a full tank than this fellow does, but I'm pretty sure Jay would attest that last night my expression looked exactly like the one on the right.

Going to sleep early saved me from self-destruction, but it didn't restore my Meter to "full," so when I woke up this morning I set some parameters for myself: 1) Take a nap this afternoon.  2) In the evening, put on pajamas at the earliest possible moment.  3) Don't hang out with anybody anywhere tonight.

Which is why I'm sitting in a quiet house.  By myself.  The only noises I hear are the kitchen clock ticking, rain pattering on the skylight, and the soft hums of my laptop fan and distant traffic.  Bliss.  (Quick word to explain why I'm the only one home...the kids are with Mr. and Mrs. FIL tonight, and Jay--who is not an introvert--is hanging out with buddies.)

Slowly but surely, I'm recovering my sanity, which is just in time!  Tomorrow is Baby K's 2nd birthday party, followed on Sunday by leading a worship service, followed by a Bible study, followed by a group dinner/Olympics viewing at a friend's house.  Followed by work on Monday...

But no need to think about all of that!  I'm doing what I need to do to recover today--which, by the way, is something I've been learning in Al-Anon.  :-)

P.S.  Shout-out to Mrs. FIL for taking me to a lovely early-Valentine's day lunch today!  She picked a quiet restaurant with delicious food and we had some great girl time.  The perfect way to get me loosened up and relaxed before my nap.  Thank you!!

Mess and Music, 25 January 2014

This evening I cooked a tasty, healthy dinner for us, and this is what the kitchen looked like afterward:

It wasn't even that complicated of a meal.  The red peppers in the pasta sauce were from a can, the broccoli was a la carte out of the microwave, and dessert majored on canned pears and melted chocolate chips.  To be completely honest, I looked at this mess and asked myself, "Is cooking worth it?"

Obviously, any self-respecting domestic engineer would answer: "Maybe."  Or, "Sometimes."  I do have some other-worldly friends who prioritize their family's nutrition so highly that they spend multiple, entire days of the week in the kitchen.  Hopefully their husbands do dishes for them (thank you Jay for being awesome about dishwashing, even though I don't spend that much time cooking).  I even have some friends--possibly descended from ancient Greek divinity--who claim to enjoy doing dishes.  I don't understand those friends, but I like them.

Enough whining.  On days cooking just isn't worth the mess to us, we'll leaf through our stack of coupons and get take-out.  Don't hate it--appreciate it!

Speaking of appreciating, I managed to find two pairs of shoes on a double sale today that were comfortable, cute, the right colors, and in my size.  Show and tell!

Love those red tags!  Aren't the heels lovely?  I promise they're comfortable!

The reasons I needed these shoes are as follows: 1) The two business-type pairs of brown shoes I wore regularly finally gave out after 8 and 5 years, respectively.  2) The one pair of brown heels I've had are incredibly cute but a half-size too small, really only suitable for wearing places I can sit down and kick them off.  3) I'm working at a job where I walk and stand for a few hours at a time...while not wearing sneaker-compatible outfits.

For anyone tuning in to Mostly Today for the first time since mid-December, you may be surprised to discover that I started a money-earning job on January 2nd!  I'm a part-time, interim music director for a local church, planning their Sunday and Wednesday service music, teaching and directing their adult choir, leading singing during the services, and teaching two elementary-aged kids' music classes each week.

It's been a total BLAST.  I mean it!  There is so much about this job that I love: the people, the music, the planning, the using-my-skills-and-education, the income, the way it stretches my brain and opens my heart.

Check out my office!  What's not to love?!

There are challenges of course, like figuring out how to engage 10-year-old boys in a music class when they'd really rather be wrestling and yelling.  (If you music-teacher-types have any suggestions, please comment.)  Another challenge is figuring out daily logistics with Jay, given that I'm less available for domestic engineering, but this has been pretty smooth, thus-far.  Probably the smallest-scale challenge has to do with footwork...or should I say, footwear.  But as of today that's taken care of, so I think this coming week will be off to a good start...or should I say, will start off on the right foot.

Tomorrow morning, I even get to bust out a Handel solo!  Wow.  Singing classical arias in a church service, sandwiched between Scripture readings, Holy Communion, and choral praise to the Lord?  It doesn't get much better than that.

P.S.  On second thought, one thing that very possibly does get better than that is becoming an auntie again!  Congratulations to my sister Kay and her husband on the birth of Baby C!!!  He's my favorite nephew born this year.  :-D

Letter to Mom, 05 January 2014

Dear Mom,

It sure would be nice to be able to talk to you on the phone today!  I really identify with you when I'm involved in leading a worship service.  I think I learned a whole lot about working in a church from observing your many years as a church pianist and organist.

For example, I rarely recall seeing you flustered.  Focused, yes, and sometimes a little tense while getting ready in the morning, but you maintained an inner calm and composure.  Watching you taught me about preparing my outer appearance, too.  You always took the time to style your hair (thankfully I don't need curlers), carefully apply your eye makeup, and dress in attractive but unassuming clothing.  Sometimes I watched you get ready, and my favorite part was waiting to see which earrings you'd choose.  This morning, I thought carefully about my earrings, makeup, hair, and outfit too!  :-)

Watching you showed me what being friendly to the other church attenders can look like.  You'd smile widely whenever anyone approached you--and you had delightful ways of responding to people's various comments.  I got to use your "make a joke when someone pays you a compliment you're not sure how to absorb" method this morning.  After the service, an older gentlemen came up to me and said it felt like I'd been part of the church for years.  I smiled widely and said, "Are you saying I aged during the service?"  We got a good chuckle out of that.

You had gracious smiles during each Sunday service, even if you didn't always agree with what someone said or did.  I remember this sort of close-lipped smile you'd get; it wasn't unpleasant-looking or dismissive--it said, "I don't agree with that but I'm not going to say so right now."  I have my own version of that smile, often accompanied by me saying, "Oh, okay," or, "I'm glad you told me that."

You wanted things to be done excellently on Sundays (and always, really), on the part of the leaders and the congregation, both.  Any time there's a "clapping" song in which there's some discrepancy with people clapping on or off the beat, I remember a time you were seated off the stage with us, and apparently, the majority of the people were clapping on the wrong beats.  You boldly clapped loudly throughout the whole song on the "right" beats...with a smile!

When this morning's service finished, the first thing I thought about when I got into my car was, "What am I going to make for lunch?  I'm tired."  How you and Dad put wholesome, large meals on the table every Sunday afternoon is beyond me.  (Thankfully, Jay took the boys to get soups from a deli today, so I was off the hook!)  Sometimes, especially after you got polymiositis, you were too tired to even eat when you got home, so you'd go straight up to bed for a nap.  While I am thankfully in good health, I did still need a nap today--but I took it after lunch.

Thank you for all this--and so much more--that you taught me by example.  I'm sure you'd be proud of the way I'm using my musical and interpersonal skills during this season of my life.  I sure wish you were here to see it; but then again, if you were here, you'd be busy in your church on Sunday mornings and wouldn't ever get to see me in action!  And maybe you can see me now...from the Heavenly organ bench you sit on.  I love you.

Love,
Rachel