The Beach in December

The top 5 reasons we love the beach in December:

1.  It's perfect sailing weather, so we can sit on the shore and pick our favorites and make up stories about where we are going.

2. There aren't too many people to see our craziness.

3. We don't have to keep our love notes a secret until the tide washes them out to sea.

4. The only footprints in the sand are our own.

5. After all the fun, there isn't a wait at our favorite beach diner, Ruby's!

Grandma would be proud

My Grandma used to make homemade jam all the time.  In fact, we never really bought any, we always had a jar of hers in the pantry.  She made all types, but her strawberry was the sweetest (and therefore my favorite), especially because in her house, there were always warm rolls to slather.

A few weeks ago I came across a super simple recipe for spiced pumpkin butter.

4 c. (2 15 oz. cans) pumpkin puree
1 1/4 c. pure maple syrup
1/2 c. apple juice
2 T. lemon juice
2 t. grd ginger
1/2 t. grd cinnamon
1/2 t. grd nutmeg
1/4 t. salt

(I also added a tablespoon or 2 of brown sugar, just because we like it sweet!)

Boil, reduce heat for 30 minutes or so, until its all thick and your house smells like a home.  Spoon it into jars and enjoy within 2 weeks or freeze for 6 months.  It's pretty darn yummy on muffins and pancakes!

apple picking...sorta

so i found this apple crisp recipe that sounds so yummy.  since i'm feeling all autumn-y, i thought we'd go pick the apples for it.  except, apparently everybody else had the same idea.  all the trees had been picked clean!  so, i'll have to let you know how yummy that crisp is another time.  no worries, we found plenty to enjoy around the orchards!

the pumpkin spice donuts alone were worth the trip.



the caramel apples weren't bad either.

after we fueled up, we went looking for bigfoot.  once again, we came home emtpy handed.



it was a beautiful day!

first rainy day

= carrot spice muffins to warm us inside.

feels like fall

we were so happy to be able to open all the windows this weekend and feel a cool breeze! 

we put an extra blanket on the beds, organized closets (pulling out the warmer stuff!), went on an evening walk that required comfy sweatshirts, watched movies under blankets, drank warm apple cider, and baked a carrot cake (which made the house smell oh so yummy!).

all this nesting reminded us of apple picking last year.  where his love for picking his own food was born. those sweet apples never had the chance to become pies, or tarts, or cakes.  nope, he ate every one of them within 2 days.  this year i'll let him pick waaay more than i think we need.

thought i'd share some pics from last year:

8 years ago today

i learned that excruciating pain can be completely erased when a tiny human takes his first breath in your arms.

i have started this post a million times.  i honestly don't know where to begin.

 

i talk a lot about how you view life as an adventure.  lucky for me, i was chosen to tag along on your trip.  sometimes, you even let me drive!

carrying you was the most complete feeling i have ever had in my life.  i wonder if you, being a boy and all, will ever be able to comprehend that.  it was amazing (minus the months when i was so tired and sick i would pass out in my work clothes, only to change when i got up in the middle of the night to vomit).  all was right with my world.  i have never felt that level of contentment before, or since.

along with that though, was a constant worry that i would lose you.  never, in the history of birthin' babies, was a woman so happy to jump into maternity wear.  looking back, i'm sure it was my feeble attempt to hurry the pregnancy past the point of no return. 

it took a few years to get pregnant with you.  i took 3 pregnancy tests, each one made me smile bigger, my heart race faster. 

feeling you move in my ever-growing belly was the best, i felt it pretty early, at 4 months along.  from then on, you never stopped.  you would react to music, to daddy's voice, and to me laying down.  as soon as i would lay down, you would wake up.  they say that's because when i was walking around, it would rock you to sleep.  the bigger you got, the crazier my stomach would move.  eventually, the movement was visible from the outside and every once in a while i could see the outline of a hand or foot.

ironically, what turned out to be my last doctors appointment was on the day you were born.  the afternoon was strange, a mix a disbelief and excitement that it was actually happening.  i went to the hospital around 6:00pm, dialated to 6.  five hours later, at 11:07pm, all 8lbs., 2oz, of you arrived.  daddy cut the cord and they laid you on my chest.  the very first words you ever heard were me whispering "i've waited so long for you."

you have no idea how much love awaited your arrival.  daddy and i adored you, long before we actually met you.  you were concieved because i loved your father more than i had ever loved another human being.  you are the result of a love like no other.  no matter what happens, remember that. 

happy birthday, baby.  i  love you more.

the vintage pearl

I recently purchased this adorable little necklace for myself.



i love it!

it was handmade by a stay-at-home momma with 4 punks of her own.  i love the simplicity (and affordability) of all her designs.


you can check more of her stuff out here. 

sweet september

you know, i'm usually a summer kind of girl.  i love the warmth, the sunshine, the freedom to go and do whatever we want without the confines of school or weather.

but, this summer has been different.  maybe I'm getting old.  we haven't really gone anywhere, mostly because it's too hot and I hate crowds. 

for the first time ever, i really can't wait until fall, which by the way, starts on september 22nd.  i'm  looking forward to cozy, cool evenings; cooking real meals again; apple picking; baking; and the beach when it has gone silent from all it's summer visitors.



happy september!

Weekending

snips of snails and puppy dog tails

when you tell a 7-year old boy that he can be in charge of the days fun, that he can call all the shots, he can take the lead - be absolutely sure that you can handle the adventure. 

this boy takes the lead very seriously.  we packed a picnic, blanket, and the necessary g.i.joe guys, and headed to the mountains for the afternoon.


We took whatever trail he wanted, hopped on only the rocks he wanted, and limbo-ed under fallen trees.



i kept saying, "punky, slow down!" - "keep yours eyes open" - "stay close to me!"

to which he finally replied, "mom, don't be such a sissy, i'm not gonna get hurt!"

three steps later, he landed next to this:




a 3 1/2 foot long southern pacific rattlesnake.  she was trying to move out of his way, but alas, he was moving faster than her.  luckily, he recognized the tone in my voice when i said "punky - FREEZE!" was not a tone to disobey.  i told him to slowly take a big step backwards.  he did exactly as i asked without question. it was terrifying and exciting all at the same time.
 
needless to say, we decided not to hike any further, the area we were in was pretty remote.  so we found a nice big, flat rock surrounded by water (it was the only rock he'd sit on for fear of more snakes!) and ate our picnic.



after that, we took a relaxing, snake free, scenic ride on the ski lifts and giggled about how scared we both were!




that night as i was tucking my tired adventurer in bed, he told me how much fun the day was, and made me promise we would never do it again!

Interactions

I came across this post on another blog, and it has really made me more aware.  Just thought I'd share!


"I try not to use this blog space to rant or be preachy. I’m not a fan of ranting or sermons (unless it’s Sunday - and even then it really depends on the sermon).

Think of this as a desperate plea.

Yesterday, while I was trying to enjoy my manicure, I watched in horror as the two women across from me talked on their phones the entire time they were getting their manicures. They employed head nods, eyebrow raises, and finger pointing to instruct the manicurists on things like nail length and polish choices.  I really couldn't believe it.

I’ve had my nails done by the same two women for 10 years. I know their names (their real Vietnamese names), their children’s names, and many of their stories. They know my name, my children’s names, and many of my stories. When I finally made a comment about the women on their cell phones, they both quickly averted their eyes. Finally, in a whisper, Susan said, “They don’t know. Most of them don’t think of us as real people.”

On the way home, I stopped at Barnes & Noble to pick up a magazine. The woman ahead of me in line bought two books, applied for a new “reader card,” and asked to get one book gift wrapped without getting off of her cell phone. She plowed through the entire exchange without making eye contact or directly speaking to the young woman working at the counter. She never acknowledged the presence of the human being across from her.

After leaving Barnes & Noble, I drove through the Chick-fil-A drive-thru to get a Diet Dr. Pepper. Right as I pulled up to the window, my cell phone rang. I wasn’t quite sure, but I thought it might be Charlie’s school calling. I answered it. It wasn’t Charlie’s school – it was someone calling to confirm my hair appointment. I got off the phone as quickly as I could.

In the short time it took me to say, “Yes, I’ll be at my appointment,” the woman in the window and I had finished our soda-for-money transaction. I apologized to her the second I got off of the phone. I said, “I’m so sorry. The phone rang right when I was pulling up and I thought it was my son’s school.”

I must have surprised her because she got huge tears in her eyes and said, “Thank you. Thank you so much. You have no idea how humiliating it is sometimes. They don’t even see us.”

I don’t know how it feels for her, but I do know how it feels to be an invisible member of the service industry. It can suck.

I worked my way through undergrad and some of graduate school by waiting tables. I worked in a really nice restaurant that was close to campus and a hot spot for wealthy college kids and their parents (parents who were visiting for the weekend and treating their kids and their kids’ friends to dinner). I was in my late 20’s and praying to finish my bachelor’s degree before I hit 30.

When the customers were kind and respectful, it was OK, but one “waiter as object” moment could tear me apart. Unfortunately, I now see those moments happening all of the time.

I see adults who don’t even look at their waiters when they speak to them. I see parents who let their young children talk down to store clerks. I see people rage and scream at receptionists then treat the bosses/doctors/bankers with the utmost respect.

And, I see the insidious nature of race, class, and privilege playing out in one of the most historically damaging ways possible – the server/served relationship.

Everyone wants to know why customer service has gone to hell in a handbasket.

I want to know why customer behavior has gone to hell in a handbasket.

When we treat people as objects, we dehumanize them. We do something really terrible to their souls and to our own.

Martin Buber, an Austrian-born philosopher, wrote about the differences between an "I-it" relationship and an "I-you" relationship. An "I-it" relationship is basically what we create when we are in transactions with people whom we treat like objects - people who are simply there to serve us or complete a task.

I-you relationships are characterized by human connection and empathy.

I’m not suggesting that we engage in a deep, meaningful relationship with the man who works at the cleaners or the woman who works at the drive-thru, but I am suggesting that we stop dehumanizing people and start looking them in the eye when we speak to them. If we don’t have the energy or time to do that, we should stay at home.

And, for the love of humankind, we need to get off of our damn phones and show some basic respect to the people who are standing in front of us.

Buber wrote, “When two people relate to each other authentically and humanly, God is the electricity that surges between them.”

I just don’t think treating each other with basic dignity is asking too much."

If you have a minute, go here and check out the comments to her post, they are worth reading.

good night

so the other night, I'm tucking my punkin pie into bed and i give him a kiss and tell him i love him to pieces.

he says, "i love you more."

"impossible," i say, "there is no love is bigger than momma love."

"yes there is," he whispers. "mine."

soakin' it in

just a few shots from the beach, where we played in the water with dolphins, buried ourselves (ok, that was really just him), and finished off the day with an ice cream shake from rubys.

busy doing nothing

just wanted to acknowledge our absence around here.  apparently, summer vacation keeps us busier than usual.  doing what?  i really don't know.



i do know what we aren't doing.  we aren't rushing through our evenings doing homework, we aren't getting dressed bright and early, or sticking to a schedule.  rules about not snacking before dinner and what technically constitutes "dinner" are being broken pretty regularly.

i have learned a few things in the past 2 weeks of vacation though.  i've learned that the joy my punk gets from being allowed to take a huge cowboy rifle on evening walks with us (so he can keep us safe from invisible enemies) outweighs the questioning looks i get from other adults along our path.  i now know that a medium pizza is no longer enough to feed the two of us.  i know that i can handle "boy" issues without batting an eyelash.  and I'm learning that ice cream helps me get through watching "spy kids" for the 500th time.

i've also learned that when my punk wakes up before me, he comes to kiss me softly while he thinks i don't know.

this summer is off to a beautiful start!

painted ladies

a few weeks ago, we acquired a few caterpillars.  our first painted lady butterfly has emerged!





we held her, studied her, and then when she was ready, she flew from us to some of our flowers.  she spent about half an hour touring our patio and then off she went!

i'm watching him sleep.

he has such a beautiful face. golden skin. full lips.  a few freckles. and those eyelashes.

sometimes he doesn't stand still long enough for me to take him all in.  but here, during slumber, I'm etching the 7-year old him into my memory.

he changes so often. morphing into a leaner, taller, more mature boy almost weekly. 

i'm sure i will love every stage to come, just as i have loved every stage that has passed.  but, my heart aches for the times i will never get back.  he no longer wants to be rocked, and he's too big for me to carry.  every day he becomes a teensy bit more independent.  i am acutely aware that he is, ever so slightly, wanting less of me and more of the world.

there should be another word for this feeling besides "love."  it just doesn't seem to do this feeling justice. momma love isn't like other love.  It's fierce, unrelenting, and sometimes it consumes me.

sometimes, i wish i could just freeze time.

the view from where i'm sittin'

so sentinmental...

when I was a kid, my grandpa grew countless fruits and vegetables.  his favorite were his home-grown tomatoes.  i hated tomatoes.  although, i'm not sure how i knew this, since i refused to even try one.  looking back, I'm sure it drove him crazy to hear me say that.  but he would just smile, shake his head, and pop another tomato in his mouth. 

he was so good at waiting patiently.  waiting for us to learn our own lessons, to realize that indeed, he had been right all along.  nothing made him happier than seeing his family succeed, and nothing made me happier than seeing him "glow" for me.

but I digress, i'm just talking about a tomato here.

he always told me that i just HAD to have a home-grown tomato, that the reason that i didn't like them was because the store bought ones are worthless.

do I need to say it?

he was, indeed, right all along.

this little jem joined some goat cheese and a baguette. so delicious.

how i wish that i could take a basket to him these days, just to see him glow.

This Love

I'm watching him sleep.

He has such a beautiful face. Golden skin. Full lips.  A few freckles. And those eyelashes.

Sometimes he doesn't stand still long enough for me to take him all in.  But here, during slumber, I'm etching the 7-year old him into my memory.

He changes so often. Morphing into a leaner, taller, more mature boy almost weekly. 

I'm sure I will love every stage to come, just as I have loved every stage that has passed.  But, my heart aches for the times I will never get back.  He no longer wants to be rocked, and he's too big for me to carry. 

Every day he becomes a teensy bit more independent.  I am acutely aware that he is, ever so slightly, wanting less of me and more of the world.

There should be another word for this feeling besides "love."  It just doesn't seem to do this feeling justice. Momma love isn't like other love.  It's fierce, unrelenting, and sometimes it consumes me.

Sometimes, I wish I could just freeze time.

Club Mom (and not the young, chic kind)

To which, apparently, I am a full-fledged card-carrying member...

Why?

Because I look at THIS like a teenage boy with a new muscle car.

Meet the Cuisinart Smoothie Master 3000.  Ok, not really, but my Punk thought it was funny, and I have no idea what it's actually called...short of "blender", that is.

We used to have a cheap Black and Decker model but we burned out the motor with all the smoothie makin' that goes on around here.  But this? This is waay more fun than it should be.

Thats right, I'm in love with a blender.  And I'm not ashamed.

We are smoothie makin' fools once again!

And one of us is a little faster at downing them...

fabulous find

i love, love this little necklace.  it's dainty, simple, and handmade.



so sweet
.
especially for mother's day.

the number of eggs depends on the number of children.

i'll take 3.

i'm just sayin.

friday find

a new (to me) vintage soda crate, perfect for storing my beside-the-couch reading.



happy friday!

betty crocker doesn't live here

i'm usually not a huge fan of sugar cookies, or more specifically, MY sugar cookies.  i always cook them a teeny bit too long, so they aren't chewy. and frankly, unless they are chewy and frosted, i'm not interested.

but i came across a recipe (if you can call it that) for cookies using cake mix. so i gave it a shot.

strawberry on strawberry has always been a favorite for cupcakes around here, so that's what i had on hand.  but they'd be yummy with so many different combinations.  just keep in mind the flavor is concentrated, so mine were very sweet.  apparently, this wasn't an issue for the hungry beasts that ate them.

they come out thick and chewy. 

maybe next i'll try red velvet with dark chocolate frosting, or vanilla with strawberry, or spice cake with buttercream...

cake mix cookies

one package cake mix, any flavor

2 eggs

1/3 - 1/2 cup oil (use your judgement, i needed the whole 1/2 cup to moisten the mix enough.)

mix everything. bake at 350 for about 15 minutes.  cool. frost. hide.

earth day

this morning, punk and i read a book about trash.  where does it all go?  what will we do when we run out of room to keep it all?  and, of course, how can we reduce the amount we create?

it is an amazing thing to see him make the connection between something we do, and it's larger impact.  to see him fully comprehend why we do it.

he knows to turn out the light if he isn't in the room, he is very careful with his water usage, we use cloth napkins, reusable bags and containers, and we recycle the consumption that can't be avoided.  today he learned the reasons why we try to buy locally grown, organic produce.  he thought the farmers market was simply so he could taste all the fruits and veggies before we buy!

kids are so awesome that way, once they see a tangible impact (on animals, the earth, or each other), they really do wanna leave this place a little better than they found it.  i remember the "save the whales" campaign from when i was a kid.  but this generation?  they have a more global view, and the knowledge that they can really do it.  entire habitats, ecosystems, and species will be saved because of their belief and willpower.
he took the book to share with his class today.

my hero!

i may need an intervention

the other night i made fish tacos for dinner, topped with some mango salsa i picked up at henry's.

holy. freakin. crap.



i need more.

soon.

weekend in review

our weekend was one of those no schedule, play all day, enjoy the warmth, jack johnson playing, leave the windows open all night kind of weekends.