list

He asked.
A birthday wish list.
For year number thirty-nine.

That Amazon account will be cut in half, IN HALF I tell you
I will need this while I'm lying in bed, reading my Amazon Kindle. I'll be much more comfortable and in turn, so will you.

I need this.
Anthropologie.

please please please please please

You know how I like to have one-of-a-kind handmade ceramic bowls on the coffee table and fill them with vaious candies? Well, I need more bowls.

This canvas picture. Target(dot)com.

If you ONLY knew how much I want this around my neck, you would buy it for me right now.

Orange. Espresso. Nothing more to say.

These lovely plates. Aren't they beautiful? Anything would taste better on these plates.

Pizza That Makes You Skinny

On June 1, 2010, several people who I will not name decided to create their own “biggest loser” contest. I am one of those people. I am not winning at losing, but I am losing. It is painfully slow. It is painfully hard. I want to cry. I miss butter. I measure my weight loss in butter. The first week I lost 7 pounds, which equaled 28 sticks of butter. Nice.


I feel deprived most of the time, I’m gonna keep it real – it’s depressing. I love food, I love cooking food, I love cooking food with my husband, I love eating food and I especially love it when I cook food that the people I love, love.


The following recipe does not, however, make me feel deprived. I feel like I am cheating but I’m really not. It’s fresh, it’s easy and it really is delicious.


Here’s what you’ll need:
2 pints cherry tomatoes
1 red onion
2 cloves fresh garlic, minced
4-5 fresh basil leaves
Shaved parmesan cheese
Balsamic vinegar
Olive oil
Kosher salt
Pepper
Your favorite pizza crust recipe, rolled out THIN


Slice the red onion very thin and put them in a roasting pan

Slice the tomatoes in half, lengthwise and put them with the onions in the roasting pan. I’m weird about my cherry tomatoes because I slice the end off of the top just because I don’t like to see the little green thing the vine was attached to, but that’s just me.

Salt, pepper and add the garlic to the tomato/onion mixture and then sprinkle with a little bit of olive oil and a little bit of balsamic vinegar. Don’t over use the balsamic – that would be bad. Balsamic Vinegar is one of my favorite things. A person could spend a lot of money on a bottle….I think I’m going to get my sister a good bottle for a housewarming present. Anyway….

Roast the pan of goodness on the top shelf of your oven, set at 350, for about 20 – 25 minutes.

After the pan of goodness is finished roasting, put the mixture on top of your thinly rolled out pizza dough. Sprinkle some shaved parmesan on top and bake in a 500 degree oven on the next to the bottom shelf for about 15 minutes.

When it’s done, sprinkle with more shaved parmesan and your fresh, minced basil. It’s beautiful and delicious.

My son, who is NOT on a diet but needs to gain weight decided that this yummy, fresh pizza was not what he wanted for dinner.  So in the picture below, he is making himself some steak bites, in a pan full of butter, without a shirt on. 

I am so proud.

Perspective Perfected

I believe I have had a glimpse of perfect perspective, but just a glimpse.

Two boys, two CHILDREN, lost their lives this week in a cruel and gruesome accident. The families of these two boys have been an obsession of mine since I heard the news. My heart is broken in two for the mothers. As a mother of a boy the same age – I find myself thinking of some difficult questions. Not just the questions that seem to be the first to come to everyone’s mind, like… What was the last thing she said to him…How did she hear the news; but odd questions, like; how does a mother launder the clothes that her son has left on his bedroom floor? How do you even begin to set one less plate on the table at dinner? His sheets, does she take them off of his bed or does she curl up and lay in them trying to catch his scent? Will his toothbrush stay on the sink? If these questions are torture for me, what are they like to her?

I stood in a long line last night with my children and with what seemed like a whole city. Most of it was spent outside, in the humid-June-typical-Ohio weather. I had about an hour and a half to think of what I was going to say to a mother who just lost her child. The closer I got to the inside of the funeral home, the more nervous I became, the more I thought I really had no business being there. After all, I did not know this family. I was wearing the same clothes I had put on for work – 14 hours earlier. Sweat was dripping from my forehead and I think I even stunk a little bit. I decided I was just going to stand back while my children gave their condolences.

The slow line of mourners moved into the viewing room. I was immediately hit with a TV monitor displaying pictures of a little baby boy. He was in his high chair, he was playing on the floor and smiling for the camera, he was being held by his momma. Eventually, the monitor showed pictures of the same boy playing football and basketball on some of the very teams my Logan played on. I was fighting the tears, trying so hard to keep composure. As the line turned the corner around the monitor, my eyes fell on a baby blue and gray casket. There was a picture on top of this beautiful and horrific box, a picture of a 14 year old grinning freshman. Standing next to this was grief manifested in human form - his mother. She was so tiny and her boy looked just like her. Her face was a face shock. What was keeping this woman upright? What was keeping this woman from screaming to this room full of people “THIS IS MY BABY, MY SON, HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND?” What was keeping her from pulling out every strand of her hair and climbing inside that lovely box with him forever?

This woman – this woman who seemed to have some supernatural power – greeted every mourner with such warm, quiet dignity. She greeted each person with a long embrace. I found myself wishing I was friends with this woman, so that I too can share in her warmth. I had memorized my short little condolence and in what seemed like just two seconds, I was face to face with her.

My memory failed me; I could not remember what I was going to say, I could not even remember to extend my hand. All I could get out was “You don’t know me….I brought my children here with me….” As I pointed to the two, tall, wide-eyed, solemn faced children that are my own. I was startled by this woman’s actions; she embraced me, she held me close and she put her lips to my ear that was covered by my sweaty hair. She started whispering, quickly and urgently and for a moment, I really thought that she had lost her sanity – until my mind was able to catch up to what she was saying. “Don’t ever stop. Take the time. Never worry about what they think. Tell them to wear their seatbelt. Tell them to be careful. Tell them you love them. Tell them they are not invincible. Tell them this world is temporary. Let them roll their eyes at you. Let them tell their friends that you are lame. Do it, do it, do it, do it. They need it…..” My sobs and the sobs of my daughter began to drown out her whispers. And I had perfect perspective for an ever so brief moment.

I wanted to hold this woman forever. I wanted to tell her that HE knows how hard it is, that HE promises to give peace that passes all human understanding. All I could do was nod my head while still in her grip and try to keep my nose from running.

When she let go, all I could manage was “I am so sorry, I am so sorry” and I walked away numb with two grieving children behind me. As I lay awake last night, I prayed that this “perfect perspective” would stay fresh in my heart and in the hearts of my children for the rest of our lives here on earth.

For Joyce, my favorite aunt
For GiGi, my sister in Christ
For Mary, my forever friend

It's What For Dinner

Nowadays, my very existence is humiliating to my children. I am not to speak when they are in the company of their friends. Mainly because I have been known to say things like “you should have seen him when he was a baby, he had more chins than a Chinese phone book” or “remember that time I had to have the Kings Island worker stop the roller coaster and let you off because you were crying so much?”. Maybe it's because one time they were outside with a group of friends and were told to be inside several minutes prior and I sent Jason outside to hang out with them – shirtless and he asked them if they wanted to come inside and listen to his Brittany Spears records. Where was I going with this………oh yeah, the bane of my kids existence.
I have found a way to earn their love and admiration, if only for just a few moments: Steak Bites.
When I make these, I am smart, I am adored, I am needed. Maybe you all can use some of that in your life, if only for 2 minutes.

I seriously cannot think of anything easier than this recipe and to top it off it is inexpensive.
You will need:
2-3 pounds of top round beef steak (very little fat)
Kosher salt
Butter

Pick the steak with the least amount of fat and "marbeling"

                                                         Trim off ALL fat and throw it away!
                                           Cut the steak into little cubes, I like to cut mine small.
Put the cubed steak in your orange Kitchen Aid bowl and then generously and I mean GENEROUSLY sprinkle with kosher salt. Make sure every piece of steak has salt.  I like salt. I hear it's good for you.

In a large saute pan melt this much butter on HIGH heat.

Don't burn it for goodness sake, but get it very hot.

  Pay no attention to the pan on the back burner, I am not making two pans of steak bites at one time, we are not pigs you know and I resent you thinking such things.

Once you add the steak to the hot, buttery pan DO NOT STIR THEM.  Leave them sit and let them cook and get nice and brown, dark brown.  Anyone who stirs these steak bites before I say so gets a swift slap on the hiney.

See, they are cooking up nicely. Once you feel they are brown on one side, flip them over and them cook them some more.

Oh baby, they are looking good.  Don't even think about taking them out of the pan now, they are not done.  You want them almost burnt, but not carcinogenic or anything.  Leave them, trust me. 

                                                               
                                         okay.....NOW                                      
                                        
Take them out of the pan and put them in a glass dish to keep warm while you cook the rest. 

                                        What's that?

is that sliced butter on top of the already cooked pieces of steak that are in the glass dish awaiting the other steak bites to  be cooked?  No, it is not.

Okay, it is.  Don't call the police.

Jason and I have our steak bites with a baked potato, my kids however, eat them by themselves with nothing else and they don't even use a fork.

True story.

Not really.

Lauren Rebecca

Seventeen years ago I experienced such pain and agony, I didn’t think any human could endure and live to testify; that day was your birthday.


An emergency ultra-sound was ordered – due to the fact that you were two weeks overdue – I was told labor was going to be induced within the hour. Evidentially, there was no amniotic fluid left and you basically did not have any nourishment for who knows how long.

Twelve hours into labor “people” began to get impatient-especially Grandpa and Aunt Sheila. So when the time of your arrival finally came (28 hours later, I’m just sayin’) Grandpa and Sheila pretty much refused to leave the delivery room. I was in no condition to argue. This explains why the video of your birth has not been viewed by many – Grandpa was the videographer, he got a little caught up in the moment and some of the angles are …. not….very…um….tasteful.

Anyhow, my little pumpkin, I regret telling you that I have no memory of your arrival. I was in a state of pain-induced unconsciousness. When I woke up, I expected that someone of great importance would be coming into my hospital room and delivering me a crown on a pillow, dozens and dozens of roses and a huge diamond ring; all of these things with an accompanying card from the whole world saying “You are amazing, no one else could ever do what you just did” (ha!)

Due to the lack of amniotic fluid you had a pretty rough birthday too. I was told that your color was gray and that you were covered in a white chalkiness. I think Grandma still tears up when she talks about your pitiful newborn cry. It didn’t take very long (only a few hours) for that pitiful cry to become strong (and somewhat demanding) and for your color to turn pink. I remember being in recovery and a nurse brought you in a little bassinet, there was an identification card posted on it with your name and your newborn footprint. Grandma noticed that there was only half a footprint on that card and asked the nurse why. She sheepishly replied that your whole foot would not fit on the card. A sign of things to come. 

Seventeen years later and here we are, I’m still an unsure mother and you still have a demanding cry. (grin) You have forgiven me a thousand times over for my mothering mistakes; for my over-protectiveness, my under-protectiveness, my selfishness, my lack of patience and that hairstyle for your third grade school picture. You have grown into your feet (boy, did you!) but most importantly you have grown in beauty; inside and out.

My tender hearted, fearless, patient, literal, phlegmatic, perfectionist, literal, forgiving, (did I mention literal?) firstborn. You are amazing. You have a heart of gold. You do. Guard it, protect it, keep it close to Christ, give it only to your future husband.

You have brought indescribable joy to me. I am so proud of you.

Please don’t get tattoos.

I love you forever.  Happy Birthday.

You will always be right here:

A Compilation of Things I Love - Happy Valentine's Day

Things I love - in no particular order:

If stranded on a desert island, this is one of the 705 things I would bring.  I cannot live without Lubriderm.  It doesn't have a perfumey smell, it's rich, it's thick and it stays with you.  I would bathe in it if I could.  I beg Jason to rub it on my feet every day.  Sometimes I scream it at him and then I try and bribe him; whatever works.

I'm up to about 70 of these now.  What can I say? It goes with everything. 

This is only the cutest thing ever.  Birds are a favorite thing of mine, and this thing, well...it chirps when you remove a paper clip. 

Mom and Dad got me 2 sets of these dishes for Christmas.  Who doesn't like orange?  Who doesn't like funky orange dishes?

This is our KitchenAid garlic press. Up until 3 years ago, I never used a garlic press.  I can only say that this is one of the best inventions EVER.  Put the clove in it, squeeze it and teeny tiny pieces of garlic comes out. Amazing.

Aveeno Shampoo.  It's a good thing.  It's an expensive thing.  It's not for teenage girls who have no concept of how much things cost and how much is too much to use.  Buy it, hide it. 

I make tea, every day.  I make tea with loose leaf tea, every day.  I use this french press to make tea with loose leaf tea every day.  I heart it, if something happens to it, I will cry. 

Vampires.  I liked vampires when vampires weren't even cool, man.  

Read it, love it and then give it to your teen.  

Or your best friend Sonya who still has it.  

 

If you have never listened to anything I have ever said, listen to me now: 

When purchasing flannel sheets, go for the WOOLRICH brand.

I know what I am talking about.  We even use our Woolrich sheets in the SUMMER, how do you like that baby?  They are soooo thick and soooo soft and they do not, I said DO NOT ball up when you wash them, they only get better.  I know, I know, the prints are not the best, we slept on blue plaid ones with moose throughout the fall-it doesn't matter people.  I would sleep on them if they had pictures of Obama. 

Maybe.

(you can get them at Target)

Endless possibilities. I love Sharpies, who doesn't.  I put a pencil holder full of Sharpies on our home office desk and threatened the kids and Jason that they were not to be removed under any circumstances and that if they were I would make them ALL stand in the corner until the culprit came forward. 

There is an single Sharpie left in that pencil holder.  An orange one, without the lid. 

Ballerina shoes and skinny jeans. 

These things go together like peanut butter and jelly.

There are some skinny jeans that only look good on skinny people BUT there are a few out there that any body can wear.  Get the kind that has lots and lots of spandex in them.  Buy several pairs of ballerina shoes and you got yourself a sweet wardrobe, baby. 

Ballerina shoes are not expensive, and they are not just for ballerinas. 

Are they even called ballerina shoes?  idk, that's just what I call them.

Yes, I'll have an Iced-Venti-White-Chocolate-Mocha-Espresso-No-Whip.

What's that? $27.00? Okay.

Who doesn't love embroidered pillow cases? So cute.

These are all over my house and yet I can never find one.  A messy bun must.

Oh yeah baby, now we're talkin' ...

Reef Flip Flops.

It is a sad, sad day when I have to put them away for winter. 

Yes, they are expensive but once you've gone Reef, you never go back.  They will last multiple summers.  They will look better after each year. 

They are about $40.00.

I bought Jason a pair for his birthday a few years ago with a bottle opener in the heel. Are you kidding me?

Kosher Salt = 79 cents.

It'll change the way you cook.  Always use it.

Prince.  Happy Valentines Day.

You don't know happiness till you have heard Lauren, Logan and Jason singing "Kiss" at the top of their lungs, in the car, on the way to church.  

 

So, my BFF bought me this at Target cause she said it looked like me. 

I must say, I freaking love it!

I love it so much that I buy it for everyone in my office for their birthdays. 

But not in orange, cause I know not everyone likes orange like me.

It's a clutch wallet and when you don't feel like carrying a big purse, it's wonderful.

My favorite show. EVER.

If it is ever on TV, I stop what I am doing and watch it.  I cannot help it.

A few of my favorite lines:

"and now, it's time for the airing of grievances."

"I have seen the nipple on your soul"

"a muffin can be very filling"

"I'm going out in a blaze of incompetence"

"I'm out there, and I'm loooving every minute of it."

"Jerry, these are load bearing walls"

"I don't have a square to spare"

"Produce section, it's very provocative area, alot of melon shapes and everyone is squeezing and smelling"

New favorite recipe alert:

Pioneer Womans - Buttered Rosemary Rolls.

My family thinks I made this up. 

They are obsessed, I am obsessed.

Find it here: http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2009/10/buttered-rosemary-rolls/

I'm sorry to do this to you.

I must post this next picture because it is my all time favorite thing.

I call it: THE NOOK.

I remember when this was taken; it was a HOT Virginia Beach Day, our air conditioning was broken.

We had both just got home from work and we didn't even want to move.  The kids kept coming in our room and asking when dinner was gonna happen; one of them snapped this picture. 

I keep this picture hidden in my desk at work.  I look at it all the time and think it's where I will be soon.

It's everything that is safe and everything that is good.

He holds me tightly. He smells so good.

He kisses my forehead without even knowing.

He doesn't let me roll over, not that I ever want to.

Who Knew Nyquil Could Do That?

I need to preface this post by confessing that I hum-all the time. If you don’t hear me, I am humming inside my head. Jason hears me, especially in the car. It doesn’t bother him-except when I hum the instrumental parts-then, he gets irritated and says “Carmen, you cannot hum drums”. Without getting too much into my psyche, I’ll just tell you that humming a tune is a comfort to me, I cannot explain it.


You’ll understand where I’m going with this in just a minute.

I’m not one for resolutions, who really is? I didn’t make one, but I was really excited to begin a new decade. I have plans and hopes for me and my family. Me and God were going to become extra close this year. With a sincere heart, I expressed my desire to please him, to live for him and to reflect him this New Year. I was so proud of myself.

But only for a second.

It’s day 8 in the New Year and I’m done. I’m ready for some psychological drugs.


One depressing thing after another, bam, bam bam. Some things I’ll share, some things I’ll keep between me and Jason.


Upon the New Year, there was a diagnosis of another kidney infection. I can handle the infection; the medicine to fight the infection causes much havoc. The thought of being back in a hospital makes me take the medcine. 


Our van died. It’s dead. Along with our budget. Our budget cannot handle a car payment right now.


Enter something really bad here: __________________________.


And here: ______________________________ _____________ ___________ ________.


And something personal here: _________________________.


Jason said I sat straight up in my sleep two nights ago and screamed. He said I scared his socks off. Well, he didn’t say that exactly - but you get the picture. Since that night, I hadn’t been able to get myself together. Jason never knows who he’s gonna get when he comes home; the weepy, fearful, worry-wart, disconnected wife or the needy, “clingy”, childish wife.


Yesterday, I was told that my work hours were being cut. Yep, saving up for that new used car is going to be impossible. Taking each other to work and picking each other up is going to be a way of life for me and Jason for a while. It’s nearly impossible and the biggest waste of time.


Also yesterday, one of my many managers offered to treat my department to lunch at Long John Silver’s. My co-worker left to get it and returned without my grilled chicken sandwich.


That did it. That is when I lost it my friends. Sitting at my computer desk, holding back the ugly cry, tears falling. Lunch was my breaking point.

Defeated, depressed and fearful – those are the basic things I have felt since the first day of the new decade. It wasn’t supposed to be like this at all.

Jason went out last night at midnight and bought me some Nyquil-the real stuff, just so I could get some sleep. It was wonderful for a few hours, but inevitably, the kidney thing woke me up around 3 AM. I’m pretty used to it, so it doesn’t bother me too much. Humming, I grabbed a glass of water and started to walk over to our window to look out like Mrs. Kravitz and see if there was anything going on.

Mid-step I was stopped.


Come close and I'll tell you what happened next: I heard a voice.


I’m not crazy.


It was not the voice that turns the Cedars of Lebanon into toothpicks, but it was a still, small, CLEAR-as-a-sunny-day voice:

 “Child, quit humming that song and say the words”.

And I did:

Be strong in the Lord and,


Never give up hope,


You’re going to do great things,


I already know,


God’s got his hand on you so,


Don’t live life in fear,


Forgive and forget,


But don’t forget why you’re here,


Take your time and pray,


These are the words I would say.


God is good, all the time. Even in self-pity. I went back to bed, wrapped my body around a sleeping, wonderful man who was clueless about the little miracle that just took place in our kitchen and let the tears of repentance fall and wash my pillow.

There are millions in the world who have it a ka-zillion times worse. I have perspective. Just know that you won’t waste a prayer on me and my family. I don’t know if this is a spiritual battle going on...
We have a few decisions to make and we have one little need.

We also have a big God, who whispers hope.