Instead of posting about the freezer meals classes on Facebook alone, I've decided to utilize my blog so that people can share the information better, and then my availability is not limited to people I know on facebook. Please feel free to refer anyone to this page if they are interested.
I will be offering two sets of meals this month. One is a "regular" meal plan, and the other is an allergy-friendly meal plan, which is gluten-free and dairy-free. I think the gf meals sound just as good (if not better!) than the regular meals, so if you want to come to both classes, go for it! You would be set for a whole month.
"Regular" Freezer Meals -- Friday, August 8 @ 5:30 pm until finish (approx 9 pm, give or take half an hour). Location--TBA (either North Star Bakery or my home, depending on the number of people who sign up). Cost--$175.00. Crockpot Meals fill a gallon sized Ziplock bag, and all other meals are packaged in 9x13 aluminum pans. Each meal is meant to serve 4-6.
Crockpot Meals:
Chicken Broccoli Alfredo w/ penne pasta
Orange Chicken
Honey Mustard Pulled Pork w/ Ciabatta Rolls
Broccoli Beef
Chicken & Stuffing
Shredded Beef Tacos (this includes the beef filling only)
Stovetop/Oven Meals:
Creamy Tomato Basil Soup w/ rolls
Garlic & Rosemary Pork Loin
Goulash
Cheesy Chicken/Broccoli/Rice Casserole
Allergy Friendly Freezer Meals -- Wednesday, August 13 @ 5:30 pm until finish (approx 9 pm, give or take half
an hour). Location--TBA (either North Star Bakery or my home, depending
on the number of people who sign up). Cost--$175.00. Crockpot Meals fill a Gallon sized Ziplock bags, and all other meals are packaged in 9x13 aluminum pans. Each meal is meant to serve 4-6.
Crockpot Meals:
Sweet & Sour Pork
Beef Stew w/ GF rolls
BBQ Pulled Pork w/ GF hamburger buns
Taco Soup
Chicken Teriyaki
Orange Chicken
Stovetop/Oven Meals:
Pesto-Stuffed Chicken Breasts
Garlic & Rosemary Pork Loin
Sweet Potato & Black Bean Enchiladas (using corn tortillas)
Mojave Macaroni (rice noodles with hamburger and bbq sauce)
As always, please feel free to contact me if you have any questions about any of the food. If something else pops up that you have an allergy to, I'm sure we can figure out a switch of some kind. Please email me at applebranchpantry@gmail.com to sign up, or comment on Facebook. Or call me at home. :) Registration for the 8/8 class closes 8/7 at noon, and registration for the 8/13 class closes 8/12 at noon.
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Monday, March 3, 2014
March Menu
A couple of different people have asked me for recipe ideas for Lent, so here is my March menu. Recipes have been requested, so this is going to be a giant brain dump of a post. However, I've got some good Lenten recipes, so hopefully this will help you out!
Spaghetti with feta and tomatoes/Salad
I cooked spaghetti noodles like normal, and sauteed a giant pile of garlic in olive oil. Once the noodles were cooked and drained, add the garlic and oil, fresh tomatoes, fresh basil, feta, and Parmesan cheese. This was a very "chop and dump" recipe, so I have no quantities.
Refried Bean Soup/Cornbread
1 can refried beans
1 can vegetable broth
1 can diced tomatoes
1 can black beans (drained and rinsed)
1 package taco seasoning
Mix refried beans and vegetable broth together until smooth, add all other ingredients and cook until boiling.
Curried Rice with Shrimp
2 cups uncooked brown or white rice
1 lg. onion, diced
2-3 T olive oil
8 cloves minced garlic
1 Tbsp. curry powder
1 tsp. ground cumin
1/4 cup soy sauce
1 lb. cooked and peeled shrimp (you can use any size--my kids prefer the tiny salad shrimp, so it's usually what we have. But, if you prefer something more substantial, you could definitely use larger shrimp)
Diced veggies (I like bell peppers, peas, asparagus, green onions)
Raisins
Cook rice. In separate frying pan, heat oil and cook onion and garlic. Add in all other veggies that you are using and cook. Remove from pan and set aside. Add rice to frying pan and fry lightly. In a separate bowl, mix soy sauce, curry, and cumin. Pour over rice and stir to coat. Add more soy sauce as needed. Add veggies and shrimp, stirring well. This keeps very well in the freezer--I will usually make a gigantic batch in the first week of Lent, then freeze it in serving size portions.
Spaghetti/Garlic Bread/Salad
Baked Salmon with BBQ sauce/Fried Potatoes/Broccoli
Mexican Hashbrown Casserole/Cauliflower Tots
Link for the Hashbrown Casserole here. It calls for ground beef, but I plan to replace that with beans. Link for Cauliflower Tots here.
Shrimp Fajitas/Mexican Rice
2 bell peppers, any color (I prefer red/orange/yellow), sliced
1 onion, sliced
1 pound medium shrimp, cooked, peeled and deveined
1/2 package fajita seasoning
tortillas
refried beans
avocado
Fry peppers and onion in olive oil until soft and beginning to brown. Add shrimp and fajita seasoning. Serve with refried beans and avocado. Roll up in tortillas.
Pesto Halibut/Mashed Potatoes/Balsamic Carrots
Balsamic Carrots link here.
Pierogi Lasagna/Cauliflower with Balsamic Vinegar and Parmesan
Pierogi Lasagna link here. Cauliflower link here.
Pancakes and Fruit
Stir Fry Ramen (link here).
Hawaiian Salmon Burgers (link here)/Corn on the Cob
Burritos/Rice/Carrot Sticks
Waffles/Fruit
Potato Soup/Rolls
French Toast/Fruit
Ravioli Curry Cream Soup (link here)/Rolls
Spaghetti with feta and tomatoes/Salad
I cooked spaghetti noodles like normal, and sauteed a giant pile of garlic in olive oil. Once the noodles were cooked and drained, add the garlic and oil, fresh tomatoes, fresh basil, feta, and Parmesan cheese. This was a very "chop and dump" recipe, so I have no quantities.
Refried Bean Soup/Cornbread
1 can refried beans
1 can vegetable broth
1 can diced tomatoes
1 can black beans (drained and rinsed)
1 package taco seasoning
Mix refried beans and vegetable broth together until smooth, add all other ingredients and cook until boiling.
Curried Rice with Shrimp
2 cups uncooked brown or white rice
1 lg. onion, diced
2-3 T olive oil
8 cloves minced garlic
1 Tbsp. curry powder
1 tsp. ground cumin
1/4 cup soy sauce
1 lb. cooked and peeled shrimp (you can use any size--my kids prefer the tiny salad shrimp, so it's usually what we have. But, if you prefer something more substantial, you could definitely use larger shrimp)
Diced veggies (I like bell peppers, peas, asparagus, green onions)
Raisins
Cook rice. In separate frying pan, heat oil and cook onion and garlic. Add in all other veggies that you are using and cook. Remove from pan and set aside. Add rice to frying pan and fry lightly. In a separate bowl, mix soy sauce, curry, and cumin. Pour over rice and stir to coat. Add more soy sauce as needed. Add veggies and shrimp, stirring well. This keeps very well in the freezer--I will usually make a gigantic batch in the first week of Lent, then freeze it in serving size portions.
Spaghetti/Garlic Bread/Salad
Baked Salmon with BBQ sauce/Fried Potatoes/Broccoli
Mexican Hashbrown Casserole/Cauliflower Tots
Link for the Hashbrown Casserole here. It calls for ground beef, but I plan to replace that with beans. Link for Cauliflower Tots here.
Shrimp Fajitas/Mexican Rice
2 bell peppers, any color (I prefer red/orange/yellow), sliced
1 onion, sliced
1 pound medium shrimp, cooked, peeled and deveined
1/2 package fajita seasoning
tortillas
refried beans
avocado
Fry peppers and onion in olive oil until soft and beginning to brown. Add shrimp and fajita seasoning. Serve with refried beans and avocado. Roll up in tortillas.
Pesto Halibut/Mashed Potatoes/Balsamic Carrots
Balsamic Carrots link here.
Pierogi Lasagna/Cauliflower with Balsamic Vinegar and Parmesan
Pierogi Lasagna link here. Cauliflower link here.
Pancakes and Fruit
Stir Fry Ramen (link here).
Hawaiian Salmon Burgers (link here)/Corn on the Cob
Burritos/Rice/Carrot Sticks
Waffles/Fruit
Potato Soup/Rolls
French Toast/Fruit
Ravioli Curry Cream Soup (link here)/Rolls
Saturday, February 15, 2014
The Trouble With Facebook
Yes, the irony is not lost on me that I'm posting this link on Facebook.
I truly enjoy Facebook. It's a way to keep in touch with family and friends, to exchange ideas and encouragement, and it's also the fastest prayer chain I've ever witnessed.
It definitely has its downsides though. People tend to push their beliefs quite a bit, posting links to articles and research that back up their own way of thinking. No one ever seems to put up an article and say, "Wow, I thought the other way until I read this." The breast-feeding proponents post about breastfeeding, the people who immunize post about how immunizations have saved the world, the people who don't immunize post about how immunizations are killing our children. The Democrats post about why they're awesome, the Republicans post about why they are brilliant.
The argument that "I'm posting this so other people will know" also seems a bit thin. Frankly, I've never once changed my viewpoint about anything--no matter how small--due to an article on Facebook. I'm guilty of only reading the ones I already agree with. If you are posting something about which I've already made up my mind in a different way, I'm far more likely to roll my eyes and scroll past. If I truly need to form an opinion about something, Facebook is the LAST place I'm going to go.
I don't mind that people share these articles and opinions, as we live in a free world and I'm a big supporter of free speech. I do mind that people seem to take others' opinions as an invitation to belittle and argue, quite often hijacking the news feed/post of a person who doesn't want their name associated with a giant argument. I suppose this is going to fall under the category of "Can't we all just get along?" In actuality though, it's a good question. Why CAN'T we all just get along? Whatever happened to live and let live?
I think we should take back Facebook. Political arguments, differences of opinion, and general disgruntledness (yes, I'm coining new phrases today) need to be left behind. There are venues for this kind of thing. Facebook should not be one of them. It is easy to hide behind a keyboard--I've found myself typing things that I'd never dream of saying to someone's face in real life. The anonymity of the internet is a breeding ground for hate mongering.
My point is simple--Facebook has the potential to be full of encouragement and kindness, instead of a hotbed of irritation and controversy. Let's use it to that intent. I love to see pictures of your kids, to hear about your daily life, to read uplifting and encouraging things. I truly enjoy engagement announcements, hearing about your new job, and reading the crazy and hilarious things that your kids are saying. I weep with you when you grieve, and knowing you are under the weather gives me a chance to say an extra prayer on your behalf, and perhaps offer to bring you a pot of soup. I want to see photos of the crafty things you've accomplished, or that new puppy you are bringing home. I am also eternally grateful for all the recipes you are posting, as I love to try new things.
I will not join an argument about somebody's parenting choice, or a political viewpoint, or a disagreement about how somebody lives their life. I will also make a greater effort to keep these things off my page, so that people can trust that anything attached to my name will be of a positive nature.
Change always has to start somewhere. I am taking back Facebook. I say that imagining myself standing on top of a giant hill, waving a flag and shouting as hoards of people roar with approval. In actuality, this is a very small thing. But, like I said, we have to start somewhere. And now, if you will excuse me, I have to go surf my newsfeed.
I truly enjoy Facebook. It's a way to keep in touch with family and friends, to exchange ideas and encouragement, and it's also the fastest prayer chain I've ever witnessed.
It definitely has its downsides though. People tend to push their beliefs quite a bit, posting links to articles and research that back up their own way of thinking. No one ever seems to put up an article and say, "Wow, I thought the other way until I read this." The breast-feeding proponents post about breastfeeding, the people who immunize post about how immunizations have saved the world, the people who don't immunize post about how immunizations are killing our children. The Democrats post about why they're awesome, the Republicans post about why they are brilliant.
The argument that "I'm posting this so other people will know" also seems a bit thin. Frankly, I've never once changed my viewpoint about anything--no matter how small--due to an article on Facebook. I'm guilty of only reading the ones I already agree with. If you are posting something about which I've already made up my mind in a different way, I'm far more likely to roll my eyes and scroll past. If I truly need to form an opinion about something, Facebook is the LAST place I'm going to go.
I don't mind that people share these articles and opinions, as we live in a free world and I'm a big supporter of free speech. I do mind that people seem to take others' opinions as an invitation to belittle and argue, quite often hijacking the news feed/post of a person who doesn't want their name associated with a giant argument. I suppose this is going to fall under the category of "Can't we all just get along?" In actuality though, it's a good question. Why CAN'T we all just get along? Whatever happened to live and let live?
I think we should take back Facebook. Political arguments, differences of opinion, and general disgruntledness (yes, I'm coining new phrases today) need to be left behind. There are venues for this kind of thing. Facebook should not be one of them. It is easy to hide behind a keyboard--I've found myself typing things that I'd never dream of saying to someone's face in real life. The anonymity of the internet is a breeding ground for hate mongering.
My point is simple--Facebook has the potential to be full of encouragement and kindness, instead of a hotbed of irritation and controversy. Let's use it to that intent. I love to see pictures of your kids, to hear about your daily life, to read uplifting and encouraging things. I truly enjoy engagement announcements, hearing about your new job, and reading the crazy and hilarious things that your kids are saying. I weep with you when you grieve, and knowing you are under the weather gives me a chance to say an extra prayer on your behalf, and perhaps offer to bring you a pot of soup. I want to see photos of the crafty things you've accomplished, or that new puppy you are bringing home. I am also eternally grateful for all the recipes you are posting, as I love to try new things.
I will not join an argument about somebody's parenting choice, or a political viewpoint, or a disagreement about how somebody lives their life. I will also make a greater effort to keep these things off my page, so that people can trust that anything attached to my name will be of a positive nature.
Change always has to start somewhere. I am taking back Facebook. I say that imagining myself standing on top of a giant hill, waving a flag and shouting as hoards of people roar with approval. In actuality, this is a very small thing. But, like I said, we have to start somewhere. And now, if you will excuse me, I have to go surf my newsfeed.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Brain dump
Tonight, all four of my kids went to bed at the same time.
Yes, you read that correctly. And yes, it is a miracle.
As Fr. John had a late night house blessing to get to, I got to clean the kitchen in utter peace and quiet. If you eliminate the cleaning part, it was like a little slice of heaven. In the quiet, my mind wandered in a completely random flight pattern.
For instance, I was thinking about an article I stumbled across some time ago, in which the author was describing her quick and easy 10 minute night-time beauty ritual. Seriously? Ten minutes? My nighttime beauty ritual consists of asking my husband if he still thinks I'm pretty, then passing out and drooling on my pillow. 15 seconds, tops.
Also on my mind was the movie Frozen. I love that movie. I have the song "Let it Go" on my phone, and am made fun of by other adult members of my home (*cough Fr. John cough*) for listening to it repeatedly. What can I say? It's a great song. Catchy lyrics. The only thing I don't like about that part in the movie is that when Elsa "lets it go" she transforms her dress into this icy blue, skin-tight concoction with a thigh-high slit in the front and a ten foot train in the back. I don't know about anybody else, but if I was building my own ice castle in the mountains, away from everybody and relishing the solitude, I'd transform my clothes into a pair of sweat pants a tank top. To be fair, I'd also use my magic to create an unending cup of Dr. Pepper in one hand, and a giant bowl of cookie dough in the other. Or maybe chocolate pudding. Or both. Yes, let's go with both.
Speaking of movies, one of my all time favorites has to be Last of the Mohicans. Once at the grocery store, Fr. John and I had to split up for some reason. He walked away, and called over his shoulder, "I'll find you." I wanted to grab onto him and cry, "No! Say it like Daniel Day-Lewis! 'I will find you. No matter how long it takes, no matter how far...I will find you!'" Unfortunately, I chickened out. My husband's tolerance for my shenanigans--while seemingly infinite--does have it's bounds, and I suspect this may have crossed over into his grey area. Also, as he didn't watch this movie and sigh nearly as much as I did as a teenager, he may not have understood the reference anyway.
It's now 9 pm, and as my day began at 6:15 this morning in a flurry of baby barf and an exploding diaper, I think I'll end it now. Trying to go to bed is the quickest way to wake up my infant son, so I figure if he gets it out of his system now, I may not have to get up with him again until 1 or 2.
Good night Wesley, sleep tight. I'll most likely kill you in the morning. (Name that movie!)
Yes, you read that correctly. And yes, it is a miracle.
As Fr. John had a late night house blessing to get to, I got to clean the kitchen in utter peace and quiet. If you eliminate the cleaning part, it was like a little slice of heaven. In the quiet, my mind wandered in a completely random flight pattern.
For instance, I was thinking about an article I stumbled across some time ago, in which the author was describing her quick and easy 10 minute night-time beauty ritual. Seriously? Ten minutes? My nighttime beauty ritual consists of asking my husband if he still thinks I'm pretty, then passing out and drooling on my pillow. 15 seconds, tops.
Also on my mind was the movie Frozen. I love that movie. I have the song "Let it Go" on my phone, and am made fun of by other adult members of my home (*cough Fr. John cough*) for listening to it repeatedly. What can I say? It's a great song. Catchy lyrics. The only thing I don't like about that part in the movie is that when Elsa "lets it go" she transforms her dress into this icy blue, skin-tight concoction with a thigh-high slit in the front and a ten foot train in the back. I don't know about anybody else, but if I was building my own ice castle in the mountains, away from everybody and relishing the solitude, I'd transform my clothes into a pair of sweat pants a tank top. To be fair, I'd also use my magic to create an unending cup of Dr. Pepper in one hand, and a giant bowl of cookie dough in the other. Or maybe chocolate pudding. Or both. Yes, let's go with both.
Speaking of movies, one of my all time favorites has to be Last of the Mohicans. Once at the grocery store, Fr. John and I had to split up for some reason. He walked away, and called over his shoulder, "I'll find you." I wanted to grab onto him and cry, "No! Say it like Daniel Day-Lewis! 'I will find you. No matter how long it takes, no matter how far...I will find you!'" Unfortunately, I chickened out. My husband's tolerance for my shenanigans--while seemingly infinite--does have it's bounds, and I suspect this may have crossed over into his grey area. Also, as he didn't watch this movie and sigh nearly as much as I did as a teenager, he may not have understood the reference anyway.
It's now 9 pm, and as my day began at 6:15 this morning in a flurry of baby barf and an exploding diaper, I think I'll end it now. Trying to go to bed is the quickest way to wake up my infant son, so I figure if he gets it out of his system now, I may not have to get up with him again until 1 or 2.
Good night Wesley, sleep tight. I'll most likely kill you in the morning. (Name that movie!)
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
February Meals
I decided to attempt a month's worth of meal planning and shopping this time around. So far, so good. After a mammoth grocery shopping day (it was nuts), I spent yesterday prepping as much as I could and filling my freezer. Here's the list for the month!
Crockpot Beef tips and gravy (recipe here), Mashed Potatoes, Salad
Tacos
Honey Mustard Chicken, Rice, Broccoli
French Bread Pizza (recipe here), Salad
Waffles, Fruit
Chef Salad
Mojave Macaroni (recipe here), Salad
Crockpot Teriyaki Pork Loin (recipe here), Rice, Snap Peas and Carrots
Chicken Pockets (recipe here), Corn on the Cob, Fruit
Honey Balsamic Chicken (recipe here), Alfredo Pasta, Broccoli
Fried Steak Strips, Mashed Potatoes, Corn on the Cob
Cheeseburger Wraps (recipe here), Fruit
Crockpot Pulled Pork, Rolls, Cucumbers and Carrots
Pork Chops, Pasta, Carrot Souffle
Shrimp and Feta Spaghetti, Garlic Bread, Salad
Grilled Cheese (this version for the grownups!), Salad
Baked Potatoes and Broccoli with Cheese, Fruit
Burritos, Rice, Carrot Sticks
Pancakes, Fruit
Crockpot Beef tips and gravy (recipe here), Mashed Potatoes, Salad
Tacos
Honey Mustard Chicken, Rice, Broccoli
French Bread Pizza (recipe here), Salad
Waffles, Fruit
Chef Salad
Mojave Macaroni (recipe here), Salad
Crockpot Teriyaki Pork Loin (recipe here), Rice, Snap Peas and Carrots
Chicken Pockets (recipe here), Corn on the Cob, Fruit
Honey Balsamic Chicken (recipe here), Alfredo Pasta, Broccoli
Fried Steak Strips, Mashed Potatoes, Corn on the Cob
Cheeseburger Wraps (recipe here), Fruit
Crockpot Pulled Pork, Rolls, Cucumbers and Carrots
Pork Chops, Pasta, Carrot Souffle
Shrimp and Feta Spaghetti, Garlic Bread, Salad
Grilled Cheese (this version for the grownups!), Salad
Baked Potatoes and Broccoli with Cheese, Fruit
Burritos, Rice, Carrot Sticks
Pancakes, Fruit
Thursday, January 30, 2014
WWJD?
What would Jesus do?
This is a question that was so overused by mainstream Christianity a few years ago that I started to ignore it. Everybody had their little "WWJD" plastic bracelets, it was advertized on shirts and in Christian bookstore windows. To me, it became a sign of "non-Orthodox" Christianity. I'm not entirely sure why, because as I think about it now, it seems that this question--what would Jesus do?--should be asked by everyone, Orthodox or no, who is seeking the Kingdom of God by leading a Christ-like life.
I have had occasion to ponder more about this lately. I am busy raising young children, and above all, I want to turn their hearts to God. It occured to me that this phrase might be a good way to help them think on that too. So, when one of my kids yelled at another the other morning, "I am NOT going to help you clean that up!" I saw a teaching opportunity.
I asked her, "What would Jesus do if he were here?"
She though for a moment, and said in a very small voice, "Help pick up the puzzle."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because we are supposed to love each other and help each other."
Ding ding ding. Mission accomplished. Said child turned around to go help pick up the puzzle pieces, only to return triumphantly six seconds later. "She already did it herself. I don't have to help now." Fortunately for me (unfortunately?) my house is a perpetual zone of chaos, and there was another puzzle strewn on the floor in the living room. I sent her to pick that one up.
Now, before my hand gets too sore from patting myself on the back, let me tell you another story.
Last week, I was presented with the opportunity to be a bad parent. Unfortunately, I rose magnificently to the occasion. My husband--with grace and love--waited until we were alone later that evening and called me out. My knee jerk reaction was to tell him not to boss me around. (I beg you not to be impressed by my maturity). Thankfully, I had the sense to bite my tongue. However, as I am apparently allergic to criticism, I was upset for awhile. A long while. (As a matter of fact, I woke up the next morning still kind of hacked off.)
Then I thought about what I've been trying to teach my kids. And it hit me like a freight train--perhaps I am the one who should be asked that question of myself. What would Jesus do? Well, He would probably not be mad at my husband. So I started there. Then I looked at the situation the night before. As often happens in my life (insert grumbling here), my husband was right. I had not been a good mom in that moment. I thought about the little girl that I had wronged, and my throat did that itchy, closing-off thing it does when I'm trying to hold back tears.
Then, I looked on the kitchen table and found a note she had left for me. It said, "Mom and Dad, I love you."
Friends, I cried. A lot.
So, I did what Jesus would have done. I forgave my husband, and myself. (That was a doozy). And I resolved not to make the same mistake again.
This morning, my two year old was told to retrieve a sippy cup from behind a recliner. She did this by climbing over the side table (which she KNOWS she is not supposed to do), kicking the lamp over in the process. Boom, broken lamp, shattered light bulb. Glass everywhere. Sippy cup still not retrieved. I forced myself to count for a moment, and asked myself, "What would Jesus do?" I concluded that Jesus would probably speak kindly to the errant child, then clean up the mess. So I did, although I'm pretty sure, had Jesus been there, He probably wouldn't have thought, "Wow, this would make a good blog post."
This is a question that was so overused by mainstream Christianity a few years ago that I started to ignore it. Everybody had their little "WWJD" plastic bracelets, it was advertized on shirts and in Christian bookstore windows. To me, it became a sign of "non-Orthodox" Christianity. I'm not entirely sure why, because as I think about it now, it seems that this question--what would Jesus do?--should be asked by everyone, Orthodox or no, who is seeking the Kingdom of God by leading a Christ-like life.
I have had occasion to ponder more about this lately. I am busy raising young children, and above all, I want to turn their hearts to God. It occured to me that this phrase might be a good way to help them think on that too. So, when one of my kids yelled at another the other morning, "I am NOT going to help you clean that up!" I saw a teaching opportunity.
I asked her, "What would Jesus do if he were here?"
She though for a moment, and said in a very small voice, "Help pick up the puzzle."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because we are supposed to love each other and help each other."
Ding ding ding. Mission accomplished. Said child turned around to go help pick up the puzzle pieces, only to return triumphantly six seconds later. "She already did it herself. I don't have to help now." Fortunately for me (unfortunately?) my house is a perpetual zone of chaos, and there was another puzzle strewn on the floor in the living room. I sent her to pick that one up.
Now, before my hand gets too sore from patting myself on the back, let me tell you another story.
Last week, I was presented with the opportunity to be a bad parent. Unfortunately, I rose magnificently to the occasion. My husband--with grace and love--waited until we were alone later that evening and called me out. My knee jerk reaction was to tell him not to boss me around. (I beg you not to be impressed by my maturity). Thankfully, I had the sense to bite my tongue. However, as I am apparently allergic to criticism, I was upset for awhile. A long while. (As a matter of fact, I woke up the next morning still kind of hacked off.)
Then I thought about what I've been trying to teach my kids. And it hit me like a freight train--perhaps I am the one who should be asked that question of myself. What would Jesus do? Well, He would probably not be mad at my husband. So I started there. Then I looked at the situation the night before. As often happens in my life (insert grumbling here), my husband was right. I had not been a good mom in that moment. I thought about the little girl that I had wronged, and my throat did that itchy, closing-off thing it does when I'm trying to hold back tears.
Then, I looked on the kitchen table and found a note she had left for me. It said, "Mom and Dad, I love you."
Friends, I cried. A lot.
So, I did what Jesus would have done. I forgave my husband, and myself. (That was a doozy). And I resolved not to make the same mistake again.
This morning, my two year old was told to retrieve a sippy cup from behind a recliner. She did this by climbing over the side table (which she KNOWS she is not supposed to do), kicking the lamp over in the process. Boom, broken lamp, shattered light bulb. Glass everywhere. Sippy cup still not retrieved. I forced myself to count for a moment, and asked myself, "What would Jesus do?" I concluded that Jesus would probably speak kindly to the errant child, then clean up the mess. So I did, although I'm pretty sure, had Jesus been there, He probably wouldn't have thought, "Wow, this would make a good blog post."
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
January Meals (Part 2)
Here's my meal plan for the rest of the month, posted early by popular request so people have time to grocery shop on their own.
Monday--Crock-pot Italian Chicken, Noodles, Salad
Tuesday--Spaghetti with Meat Sauce, Noodles, Garlic Bread, Salad
Wednesday--Christian Ed (Our church hosts a weekly Christian Ed night, which includes dinner)
Thursday--Pork Chops, Alfredo Pasta, Carrot Souffle
Friday--Potato Soup, Rolls
Saturday--Leftovers
Sunday--Tacos
Monday--Crock-pot Chicken Teriyaki (recipe here), Rice, Steamed Broccoli
Wednesday--Christian Ed
Thursday--Crispy Ritz Chicken (recipe here), Rice, Corn on Cob
Friday--Burritos, Rice, Carrots Sticks and Cucumbers
The underlined menu items are new recipes (thanks Pinterest!). I will be making my own dough for the Calzones, not buying it. I'm still on the lookout for a good recipe for that.
What I learned last time:
--Lettuce/Spinach will only last a week in my fridge, so any salads need to be eaten in the first week, not the second.
--I had to make a grocery run for milk halfway through.
Monday, January 13, 2014
Spiritual Whack-a-Mole
How's that for a mental image? Our Arch-Priest gave a homily a few weeks back, and he discussed his idea of spiritual Whack-a-Mole, just, as he said, "like the Holy Fathers used to say." (On a completely random side note, I get the biggest kick out of the thought of St. John Chrysostom or St. Gregory Palamas using the phrase "Whack-a-mole." But we digress.)
Of all the completely off the wall things though, THAT is what has stuck with me in recent weeks. He went on to say about how we have to treat the thoughts that invade our mind like those pesky little moles: we take our mallet--the Jesus Prayer--and we beat the ever-living tar out of them. The minute they rear their ugly heads, we have to smack them right back down where they came from.
Thoughts have always been a struggle for me. I'm a day-dreamer. I get lost in my train of thought, and I tend to stay there until rescued. These days, there are far too many interruptions in my day to form a coherent sentence, let alone drift off in a daydream, but when the kids are all in bed, and my husband is asleep, I tend to lay in bed and think. Of course, I never think of anything productive. It's my typical, "What would I do if I won the lottery?" kind of musing, or--especially this time of year--"How can I convince Fr. John to take me to Hawaii?" But, the more kids I have, the more I am finding that my thoughts and musings tend to veer into the murky swamp of fears and "what ifs?" This is especially dangerous for me, because once that train leaves the station, I have a very hard time leaping off.
But ask any mother on earth, and I'd be willing to bet that they, too, have lain awake at night, afraid of something happening to their kids. I have a five year old that is the living, breathing definition of a whirling dervish, and I worry about her falling out of a tree, or trying to teach herself to drive my car, or attempting to bring home a black bear cub, a la Little Arliss in Old Yeller. (And, as we live in Alaska, I feel that this last fear is at least somewhat justified.) My seven year old notices everything (EVERYTHING) and lately her questions have veered into the area of "things I'm not ready to talk to you about." She heard us praying for the kidnapped Bishops, Nuns, and Orphans in Syria, and was frightened. We had to have a very real talk about evil, and I didn't like it. The killer questions finally came: "Is anything like that ever going to happen to me?"
Please God, no.
And then my brain wanders. What could happen to my kids? The world we are raising them in is scary, and actively working against us. My children are now the children of a Priest, and I know that this causes the Evil One to work even harder against us. My mind starts to spin, and my heart starts to beat faster, and suddenly it's midnight and I'm hyperventilating in panic.
And then I have to remember--Whack-a-Mole. These thoughts are not of God. Beat them down. So I say the Jesus Prayer, and I beg the Theotokos to save me from myself. And as my struggle continues, I find that my timing is getting oh-so-slowly better. I might shave off a second as I remember to pray and beat the thoughts away. Of course, then the next day I find that I have planned my husband's funeral in my brain if he should happen to die and leave me alone to raise four kids...and oh dear Lord, how in the world would I do that? I'd have to move in with my parents again. I'd have to get a job. Who would babysit the little ones while I was working? Where would we get health insurance? How would I be able to live my life without calling Fr. John at work sixteen times a day just because I miss him, or I need an adult to talk to, or I'm about to have a complete nervous collapse and I need him to talk me out of it....and, oh wait. That's right. Pray. Deep breath. Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner. Fr. John is passed out right next to me. Not dead, but snoring. The girls are all snug in their bedrooms. The baby is a foot away from me in his cradle. We are all safe, and healthy, and together. Thank God. Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner. Panaghia, ease my heart. You are a mother, settle my soul.
Lather, rinse, repeat. Fortunately for me, the labor of raising four little ones causes me to pass out just about the minute my head hits the pillow, but on those rare nights when I'm awake because the baby is crying or I foolishly decided to enjoy a large glass of Dr. Pepper at 7:15 in the evening, (*ahem* like right now), I have to be proactive about not even going down that road. I can't even pray in specifics anymore, or my train of thought and prayer derails over a cliff and I'm right back into panic mode. All I can say is, God, please protect my family. Watch over them. Guardian Angels, carry them in the shelter of your wings. Theotokos, keep your arms around them.
And then I let it go. I keep whacking my moles. I keep attempting to plot ways to get to Hawaii. And should I ever win the lottery, I've worked out a really great plan of how to spend all of it.
Friday, January 10, 2014
Mojave Macaroni
This is my kids' favorite dinner. I neglected to take a picture, because dinner got on the table late, as I had a two year old recovering from the stomach flu, following me around begging to be held. My seven year old actually made this from start to finish, with very little intervention from me (mostly draining the pasta).
The homemade BBQ sauce with this recipe is quite good, but you can skip in in favor of expediency and use your favorite bottle from the store. I make and can my own sauce, so we just pop open a jar of that and call it good.
This comes from my good friend Diana's kitchen, and can be found in our church cookbook if you own a copy.
1 package elbow macaroni
1.5 pounds ground beef
1/2 cup shredded cheese
BBQ Sauce
2 cups katsup
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 tsp. onion powder
1/2 tsp. chili powder
1/4 cup mustard
2 tsp. apple cider vinegar
1/2 tsp. garlic powder
salt and pepper to taste
Cook macaroni as directed on package and drain water. Brown ground beef and drain. In a saucepan, combine all ingredients for bbq sauce and heat through. Add macaroni and beef, mixing thoroughly. Top with grated cheese.
The homemade BBQ sauce with this recipe is quite good, but you can skip in in favor of expediency and use your favorite bottle from the store. I make and can my own sauce, so we just pop open a jar of that and call it good.
This comes from my good friend Diana's kitchen, and can be found in our church cookbook if you own a copy.
1 package elbow macaroni
1.5 pounds ground beef
1/2 cup shredded cheese
BBQ Sauce
2 cups katsup
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 tsp. onion powder
1/2 tsp. chili powder
1/4 cup mustard
2 tsp. apple cider vinegar
1/2 tsp. garlic powder
salt and pepper to taste
Cook macaroni as directed on package and drain water. Brown ground beef and drain. In a saucepan, combine all ingredients for bbq sauce and heat through. Add macaroni and beef, mixing thoroughly. Top with grated cheese.
Egg and Sausage Biscuits
They were fairly simple, but I plan on trying some different techniques next time I give them a go. But for today, they worked. And they're tasty! Huzzah.
I elected to make the egg and sausage filling in a muffin tin, attempting to have uniformity in size. This worked well, except for the fact that they're tall and narrow, instead of short and wide.
Once your eggs come out of the oven, pop them out immediately. Or, like I did, get distracted by an adorable baby cooing at you, and then take them out later. Either method seems to work fine, as long as you greased the pans well.
Use your favorite biscuit recipe and bake as many biscuits as you have eggs. Once they're cooked, pull the biscuits in half, and reassemble with egg and sausage in the middle.
Thank you for visitng Khouria's Neighborhood. Here are links to "like" me on Facebook or follow me on Pinterest.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Crock-Pot Beef Stew
2 pounds stew meat (or any beef cut into 2 inch chunks)
5 large carrots, peeled and cut into 1/2 to 1 inch chunks
5 potatoes, cut into 1/2 to 1 inch chunks
1 onion, cut into 1/2 to 1 inch chunks
1 can (or 2 cups) beef broth
2 cups red wine
2/3 cup flour
1-6 oz. can tomato paste
1 Tbsp. salt
2 tsp. thyme
2 bay leaves
1 cup frozen peas
Place meat, potatoes, onion, and carrots in crock pot. Add flour and stir to coat all meat and vegetables evenly. Add beef broth, tomato paste, red wine, thyme, salt, and bay leaves. Cook on low for 6 1/2 hours, or high for 4 hours. Add peas just before serving. Serves 4 adults easily, or my family of 2 adults and 3 (solid food eating) kids.
January Meals (Part 1)
Monday: Crock-pot Beef Stew and Biscuits
Tuesday: Creamy Chicken Pockets (recipe here), Steamed Broccoli and Fresh Pineapple
Wednesday: Christian Ed (Our church hosts a weekly Christian Ed night, which includes dinner)
Thursday: Mojave Macaroni (recipe here), Carrot Sticks and Cucumbers
Friday: Bean Burritos, Mexican Rice, Salad
Saturday: Leftovers
Sunday: Chef Salad
Monday: Crock-pot Balsamic Pot Roast (recipe here) with Carrots and Potatoes, Salad
Tuesday: Chicken Yakisoba (recipe here)
Wednesday: Christian Ed
Thursday: Chicken and Spinach Enchiladas (recipe here--scroll down for it), Rice, Corn on the Cob
Friday: Waffles and Fruit
Saturday: Leftovers
Sunday: Fr. John doesn't know it yet, but he's taking me out to dinner. The kids will most likely have mac and cheese with a babysitter.
The underlined menu items are new recipes (thanks Pinterest!). They looked good, and the kids helped me pick them out, so here's hoping they'll at least try them. I will do my best to post some of the other recipes as the week goes by.
Thank you for visitng Khouria's Neighborhood. Here are links to "like" me on Facebook or follow me on Pinterest.
Monday, January 6, 2014
Living Intentionally (At Least Trying)
I have thought a lot over the past months about living intentionally. There are goals to this life--the Kingdom of God. Salvation. Eternal Life. I want to rejoice in heaven with the rest of you someday. One of the ways that my salvation is being worked out--every day, every minute, every second--is through serving my family. I want to be the best wife and mom that I can. I want to do this because I love my husband and my children, and also because this is the task God has given me. I intend to do it to the best of my abilities. There are millions of ways to go about this, but my heart has been inspired to focus on a couple in particular.
I'm kicking off with money. My contribution to the family finances lies solely in spending. So, I'm going to spend less. Easy enough, right? Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) for me, this started with me having to swallow my pride (big time) and ask my husband for help. Primarily, a budget. I have had budgets before, but I never was very good at sticking to them for long. Plus, the needs of our family have changed since our last budget check. So, I had The Conversation. It took me days to work up the courage/pride-swallowing-ability to bring it up. I think I shocked Fr. John, but in the good way (I hope).
Number two step was to figure out ways to spend less. My spending is strictly household/fun related. Fr. John pays the bills, I do all the shopping. I read a gazillion articles (thanks Pinterest!) and came up with my plan of attack.
Step one is meal planning. Every article I read praised making a plan and a corresponding grocery list as the number one way to spend less. Fr. John encouraged me to go for a two week meal plan, instead of a full month, in hopes that I won't get in over my head.
Step two is to grocery shop tactically. Go armed with your list (and coupons if you've got them), and stick to it.
Step three is to do as much of the prep work as you can. This is less of a money saving thing, and more of a "don't waste what you just bought" thing. So, I guess it is a saving thing. Who knew?
There are other fringe benefits to this plan, that have nothing to do with money. If I shop for what I want to make, and actually make it, we will eat healthier. I've wanted for ages to pare down on our processed food consumption, but pregnancy and a newborn have made that a low priority. I'm working now on slowly, SLOWLY weeding out the junk and making more from scratch. Again attempting not to become overwhelmed.
So far, so good. I made a menu, shopped, and have completed about 2/3 of my prep. My major problem has been time. I forgot what it's like to attempt to do any kind of major project with a newborn around. My initial plan was one afternoon of meal prep. So far, I'm on day three of trying to get it all done. Slowly but surely it's coming together.
I'm kicking off with money. My contribution to the family finances lies solely in spending. So, I'm going to spend less. Easy enough, right? Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) for me, this started with me having to swallow my pride (big time) and ask my husband for help. Primarily, a budget. I have had budgets before, but I never was very good at sticking to them for long. Plus, the needs of our family have changed since our last budget check. So, I had The Conversation. It took me days to work up the courage/pride-swallowing-ability to bring it up. I think I shocked Fr. John, but in the good way (I hope).
Number two step was to figure out ways to spend less. My spending is strictly household/fun related. Fr. John pays the bills, I do all the shopping. I read a gazillion articles (thanks Pinterest!) and came up with my plan of attack.
Step one is meal planning. Every article I read praised making a plan and a corresponding grocery list as the number one way to spend less. Fr. John encouraged me to go for a two week meal plan, instead of a full month, in hopes that I won't get in over my head.
Step two is to grocery shop tactically. Go armed with your list (and coupons if you've got them), and stick to it.
Step three is to do as much of the prep work as you can. This is less of a money saving thing, and more of a "don't waste what you just bought" thing. So, I guess it is a saving thing. Who knew?
There are other fringe benefits to this plan, that have nothing to do with money. If I shop for what I want to make, and actually make it, we will eat healthier. I've wanted for ages to pare down on our processed food consumption, but pregnancy and a newborn have made that a low priority. I'm working now on slowly, SLOWLY weeding out the junk and making more from scratch. Again attempting not to become overwhelmed.
So far, so good. I made a menu, shopped, and have completed about 2/3 of my prep. My major problem has been time. I forgot what it's like to attempt to do any kind of major project with a newborn around. My initial plan was one afternoon of meal prep. So far, I'm on day three of trying to get it all done. Slowly but surely it's coming together.
Friday, December 27, 2013
Christ is Born!
I think it is impossible--as a Christian--to view Christmas the same way when holding your own newborn son in your arms. Every hymn was different to me this year; each menaion more profound, each Gospel reading that much clearer.
I think we get a little desensitized to the facts of Christmas. When I look at my Nativity scene, I see Baby Jesus, happy and clean in a tiny manger. I hear in the Christmas carols that there was no room in the inn. I see a picture of Mary riding a donkey. But the true facts of the matter? This was no romantic scene, which is so often depicted in this day and age.
The Theotokos made a long, arduous journey, nine months pregnant, on the back of a donkey. Speaking as someone who was very recently nine months pregnant herself, I cannot even fathom this. I could barely walk across the room, let alone climb up on a horse, and sit in the same position for hours, being bumped and jostled the whole way. And to go into labor and not be able to find a place to give birth? Terrifying. When my son was on his way, we were greeted by ample medical staff, in a clean and well lit hospital. Mary? A barn.
I've been in barns. They are repulsive. They stink, and have poop everywhere. Even barns that are well looked after, cleaned regularly, and cared for are gross. I won't even darken the doorstep of one if I can avoid it. I have a friend who has goats and chickens, who makes fun of me to no end for this. Once, she was milking her goats, and I stood in the doorway and looked on in horror, trying (in vain) to hide my disgust. Never in one million years would I even consider sitting down in a barn, let alone giving birth in one.
And yet the Panaghia, in her humility, walked into a barn, and gave birth. To GOD. Jesus Christ Himself was born amidst the animals, and the poop, and the dirty straw, and the mice and whatever other diseases and filth were present. It's not often that a Gospel reading inspires horror in me, but as I listened to the priest read on Christmas Eve, I looked down at my own infant son and tried to imagine wrapping him in rags and laying him down in an animal's feed bin, not because I wanted to, but simply because nothing else was available to me. That mental image was so repugnant that I actually shuddered.
But there He was. In a manger. Jesus Christ, the Author of creation, the Son of God on High, surrounded by the animals. I have tried for days to fathom this, but it makes my brain spin to even attempt to wrap my head around it.
We hear in the hymns that the "cave became heaven" and "in the confines of the manger is laid the Infinite Christ our God." THIS is Christmas. It is incomprehensible, and awesome, and a whole host of other words that don't even exist in the English language.
And it is TRUTH. Christ is Born! Glorify Him!
I think we get a little desensitized to the facts of Christmas. When I look at my Nativity scene, I see Baby Jesus, happy and clean in a tiny manger. I hear in the Christmas carols that there was no room in the inn. I see a picture of Mary riding a donkey. But the true facts of the matter? This was no romantic scene, which is so often depicted in this day and age.
The Theotokos made a long, arduous journey, nine months pregnant, on the back of a donkey. Speaking as someone who was very recently nine months pregnant herself, I cannot even fathom this. I could barely walk across the room, let alone climb up on a horse, and sit in the same position for hours, being bumped and jostled the whole way. And to go into labor and not be able to find a place to give birth? Terrifying. When my son was on his way, we were greeted by ample medical staff, in a clean and well lit hospital. Mary? A barn.
I've been in barns. They are repulsive. They stink, and have poop everywhere. Even barns that are well looked after, cleaned regularly, and cared for are gross. I won't even darken the doorstep of one if I can avoid it. I have a friend who has goats and chickens, who makes fun of me to no end for this. Once, she was milking her goats, and I stood in the doorway and looked on in horror, trying (in vain) to hide my disgust. Never in one million years would I even consider sitting down in a barn, let alone giving birth in one.
And yet the Panaghia, in her humility, walked into a barn, and gave birth. To GOD. Jesus Christ Himself was born amidst the animals, and the poop, and the dirty straw, and the mice and whatever other diseases and filth were present. It's not often that a Gospel reading inspires horror in me, but as I listened to the priest read on Christmas Eve, I looked down at my own infant son and tried to imagine wrapping him in rags and laying him down in an animal's feed bin, not because I wanted to, but simply because nothing else was available to me. That mental image was so repugnant that I actually shuddered.
But there He was. In a manger. Jesus Christ, the Author of creation, the Son of God on High, surrounded by the animals. I have tried for days to fathom this, but it makes my brain spin to even attempt to wrap my head around it.
We hear in the hymns that the "cave became heaven" and "in the confines of the manger is laid the Infinite Christ our God." THIS is Christmas. It is incomprehensible, and awesome, and a whole host of other words that don't even exist in the English language.
And it is TRUTH. Christ is Born! Glorify Him!
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Parenting Choices
I hear a lot about parenting choices these days. Usually, this calls to mind the big kahunas, like immunizations, co-sleeping, homeschooling, etc. None of the parenting books I've read speak much about the choices that have to be made in split second decisions. With those big choices, you get time to research, to think, to pray, to decide. In the day to day grind, the luxury of time is not there. Like when you have to choose between rescuing the dinner burning in the oven, or dealing with the child who just announced they pooped in the bathtub. It's a split second thing. (FYI, I chose the bathtub).
When it comes down to the big ones, like the afore mentioned immunizations, etc., I wish people would just leave each other alone. You do what's best for your family. Period. I don't talk about these things, or post articles on facebook, or follow the discussions of people who do. Ever. There are too many differing opinions out there, and too many people who feel strongly about their choices. They feel so strongly, in fact, that they tend to bulldoze those around them with their opinions. It's exhausting, and unfair. There is no way to know the decision making process that another person has gone through, and no one should be belittled or harassed because somebody else doesn't agree with their parenting choices.
When it boils down to it, parenting is about love. If you love your children, then you will make the best possible decisions for them that you are able. End of story. If I give my kids a non-organic apple, I don't love them any more or any less than the person who shelled out the extra cash for the organic version. If I don't give my kids a pacifier, I don't love them any more or any less than the person who does. If we parent with love, then we are doing a good job.
Besides, the most important thing of all is our accountability to God. When I am standing before Christ at His Judgement Seat, I am willing to bet everything I am that the questions He will be asking won't have anything to do with whether or not I co-slept, or home schooled, or immunized, or breast fed. His question will be: Did you love the children I gave you? Did you care for them with every ounce of your being, did you nurture them, did you raise them to love Me, did you lay down your life for them?
Friends, nothing else really matters. So instead of entering into debates, or arguing, or trying to convince each other of the rights or wrongs of any parenting issues, let us simply support each other. Let us help each other love our children. Let us hold each others hands through this crazy journey we are taking. Let us love our kids, and simply love each other.
When it comes down to the big ones, like the afore mentioned immunizations, etc., I wish people would just leave each other alone. You do what's best for your family. Period. I don't talk about these things, or post articles on facebook, or follow the discussions of people who do. Ever. There are too many differing opinions out there, and too many people who feel strongly about their choices. They feel so strongly, in fact, that they tend to bulldoze those around them with their opinions. It's exhausting, and unfair. There is no way to know the decision making process that another person has gone through, and no one should be belittled or harassed because somebody else doesn't agree with their parenting choices.
When it boils down to it, parenting is about love. If you love your children, then you will make the best possible decisions for them that you are able. End of story. If I give my kids a non-organic apple, I don't love them any more or any less than the person who shelled out the extra cash for the organic version. If I don't give my kids a pacifier, I don't love them any more or any less than the person who does. If we parent with love, then we are doing a good job.
Besides, the most important thing of all is our accountability to God. When I am standing before Christ at His Judgement Seat, I am willing to bet everything I am that the questions He will be asking won't have anything to do with whether or not I co-slept, or home schooled, or immunized, or breast fed. His question will be: Did you love the children I gave you? Did you care for them with every ounce of your being, did you nurture them, did you raise them to love Me, did you lay down your life for them?
Friends, nothing else really matters. So instead of entering into debates, or arguing, or trying to convince each other of the rights or wrongs of any parenting issues, let us simply support each other. Let us help each other love our children. Let us hold each others hands through this crazy journey we are taking. Let us love our kids, and simply love each other.
Monday, December 16, 2013
Why I Live My Life in a Perpetual State of Bewilderment
Seriously. Always bewildered. Here are 10 reasons why:
1) The other day, my two year old somehow found a bag of M&Ms, ate the whole thing, then washed it down with the entire bottle of Holy Water.
2) Yesterday, I was walking all over the house trying to find the source of this odd smell, until finally I realized (with no small amount of horror) that it was ME. I had been spit up on so many times that I stank.
3) In the same vein, this morning it took me until 11 am just to take a shower and get dressed.
4) Have you met my five year old? She's the one with her hands over her ears in Liturgy, complaining (in a voice like a trumpet) that the singing is too loud. She's also the one who ate Nilla Wafers for breakfast.
5) In a valiant attempt to make cookies yesterday, it took 45 minutes just to get the butter and sugar creamed together.
6) While sweeping the bathroom Saturday night, I found more clumps of hair from the great Haircut Incident of 2013.
7) Try as I might, I cannot convince my two year old that the angel in the Nativity scene is, in fact, an angel, and not a fairy.
8) I made cookie dough last week for Christmas, and decided to take advantage of the 2 degree weather by freezing it outside. Then I promptly forgot about it, until the next morning when I noticed an unusually large flock of birds on the porch. What the....? "Look Mom! The birds like your cookies!" Crap.
9) I just unwrapped a tootsie roll, but dropped it on the sleeping baby in my lap. He is sleeping no longer.
10) Laundry for a family of six. Enough said.
1) The other day, my two year old somehow found a bag of M&Ms, ate the whole thing, then washed it down with the entire bottle of Holy Water.
2) Yesterday, I was walking all over the house trying to find the source of this odd smell, until finally I realized (with no small amount of horror) that it was ME. I had been spit up on so many times that I stank.
3) In the same vein, this morning it took me until 11 am just to take a shower and get dressed.
4) Have you met my five year old? She's the one with her hands over her ears in Liturgy, complaining (in a voice like a trumpet) that the singing is too loud. She's also the one who ate Nilla Wafers for breakfast.
5) In a valiant attempt to make cookies yesterday, it took 45 minutes just to get the butter and sugar creamed together.
6) While sweeping the bathroom Saturday night, I found more clumps of hair from the great Haircut Incident of 2013.
7) Try as I might, I cannot convince my two year old that the angel in the Nativity scene is, in fact, an angel, and not a fairy.
8) I made cookie dough last week for Christmas, and decided to take advantage of the 2 degree weather by freezing it outside. Then I promptly forgot about it, until the next morning when I noticed an unusually large flock of birds on the porch. What the....? "Look Mom! The birds like your cookies!" Crap.
9) I just unwrapped a tootsie roll, but dropped it on the sleeping baby in my lap. He is sleeping no longer.
10) Laundry for a family of six. Enough said.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
How To Make A Priest's Wife
I never wanted to be a priest's wife.
When I was a teenager, I had friends who thought they would want to marry priests. Frankly, I thought they were a little crazy. Who would voluntarily set out to choose a harder life? Hindsight being what it is, I now realize that they were simply braver than me, but at the time, it sure didn't make much sense.
When I was 18, I met an amazing man--smart, funny, handsome, the works--and for reasons I have yet to fathom, the attraction was mutual. Come 19, I had a diamond on my finger. We talked and dreamed together about our future. He was dedicated to the church, but when I asked him if he ever thought he'd be clergy, his answer was a resounding, "No." His Dad was a priest, his younger brother was almost for sure going to be a priest. He was (and is) proud of them, but it was their "thing," not his. Fine by me!
Fast forward a few months to two weeks past my 20th birthday (somebody was adamantly opposed to marrying a teenager), and our wedded life began. We were going to be a regular married couple, and it was going to be great.
My husband has a wonderful singing voice and is very musically inclined, so when, a few months after the wedding, our priest asked if he would consider being tonsured a Reader, we thought and prayed, and decided yes, this would be a wonderful use of his talents. He was tonsured that Christmas. A year or two went by, and he started to see a growing need for deacons. He completed the necessary studies, and was asked to become a deacon. I held our first child, who was six weeks old at the time, as I watched him be ordained to the Deaconate. At this point in time, we figured he would be a deacon for the rest of his life. People would ask off and on if he ever planned to be a priest, and he would laugh, think to himself, "That's ludicrous," and tell them the same thing he had told me before we got married--my Dad's a priest, my brother (who by this time had been ordained) is a priest. Not me.
A few years went by. We had another baby, then another. And then, our Bishop dropped the bombshell sentence: "I want to ordain you to the Priesthood." I recall my initial response being something along the lines of, "Uhhh....." I figured he would be great, and I would be a nightmare. He thought the same, only in reverse. So we prayed. We talked. I cried. He comforted me. I cried some more. We agonized. We prayed again, and again, and again. What was God's will? What was it? How can we find it? How can we be sure of it? How can we do it? Are we really old enough to make this decision? Surely somebody should be asking our parents.
Above all, we wanted to say "Yes" to God. Whatever His will for our lives was (and is) all we wanted to do was say "Yes." So after years (I kid you not) of praying, we finally found peace with the realization that God was, in fact, calling him--and by extension, myself and our children--to be a priest. So we said yes when the Bishop asked, for the third time, to ordain him.. We applied to the Ordination Review Board. And we waited. And waited. And waited. Eight months went by. Then a letter came. The ordination was approved. The Bishop would be here in three weeks.
Beg pardon? Three weeks? Surely we read that wrong. But nope, there it was, plain as day. Three weeks. We frantically called family and friends, and experienced our own little Pentecost when cheap (really cheap) plane tickets were found. Seriously, it was like the Holy Spirit had descended upon Travelocity.com (which is--I'm sure--exactly what happened. Glory to God for all things!).
Twenty one days galloped by with unnerving speed, and suddenly there I stood, seven months pregnant with our fourth child, tears streaming down my face, as 300 people around me shouted, "Axios!" at my husband's ordination to the Holy Priesthood. Boom--he was a priest and our lives changed forever. Quite honestly, I'm still not entirely sure how it happened, except that God willed it. And because He willed it, we are now embarking on a journey that was neither expected nor anticipated, but it most assuredly blessed.
And now here I am. A khouria. A matushka. A presbytera. A priest's wife. It still catches me off guard, and possibly always will. May God continually bless my steps, so I don't royally screw it up. And when I do, may He give me the strength to scrape myself off the floor and keep walking.
When I was a teenager, I had friends who thought they would want to marry priests. Frankly, I thought they were a little crazy. Who would voluntarily set out to choose a harder life? Hindsight being what it is, I now realize that they were simply braver than me, but at the time, it sure didn't make much sense.
When I was 18, I met an amazing man--smart, funny, handsome, the works--and for reasons I have yet to fathom, the attraction was mutual. Come 19, I had a diamond on my finger. We talked and dreamed together about our future. He was dedicated to the church, but when I asked him if he ever thought he'd be clergy, his answer was a resounding, "No." His Dad was a priest, his younger brother was almost for sure going to be a priest. He was (and is) proud of them, but it was their "thing," not his. Fine by me!
Fast forward a few months to two weeks past my 20th birthday (somebody was adamantly opposed to marrying a teenager), and our wedded life began. We were going to be a regular married couple, and it was going to be great.
My husband has a wonderful singing voice and is very musically inclined, so when, a few months after the wedding, our priest asked if he would consider being tonsured a Reader, we thought and prayed, and decided yes, this would be a wonderful use of his talents. He was tonsured that Christmas. A year or two went by, and he started to see a growing need for deacons. He completed the necessary studies, and was asked to become a deacon. I held our first child, who was six weeks old at the time, as I watched him be ordained to the Deaconate. At this point in time, we figured he would be a deacon for the rest of his life. People would ask off and on if he ever planned to be a priest, and he would laugh, think to himself, "That's ludicrous," and tell them the same thing he had told me before we got married--my Dad's a priest, my brother (who by this time had been ordained) is a priest. Not me.
A few years went by. We had another baby, then another. And then, our Bishop dropped the bombshell sentence: "I want to ordain you to the Priesthood." I recall my initial response being something along the lines of, "Uhhh....." I figured he would be great, and I would be a nightmare. He thought the same, only in reverse. So we prayed. We talked. I cried. He comforted me. I cried some more. We agonized. We prayed again, and again, and again. What was God's will? What was it? How can we find it? How can we be sure of it? How can we do it? Are we really old enough to make this decision? Surely somebody should be asking our parents.
Above all, we wanted to say "Yes" to God. Whatever His will for our lives was (and is) all we wanted to do was say "Yes." So after years (I kid you not) of praying, we finally found peace with the realization that God was, in fact, calling him--and by extension, myself and our children--to be a priest. So we said yes when the Bishop asked, for the third time, to ordain him.. We applied to the Ordination Review Board. And we waited. And waited. And waited. Eight months went by. Then a letter came. The ordination was approved. The Bishop would be here in three weeks.
Beg pardon? Three weeks? Surely we read that wrong. But nope, there it was, plain as day. Three weeks. We frantically called family and friends, and experienced our own little Pentecost when cheap (really cheap) plane tickets were found. Seriously, it was like the Holy Spirit had descended upon Travelocity.com (which is--I'm sure--exactly what happened. Glory to God for all things!).
Twenty one days galloped by with unnerving speed, and suddenly there I stood, seven months pregnant with our fourth child, tears streaming down my face, as 300 people around me shouted, "Axios!" at my husband's ordination to the Holy Priesthood. Boom--he was a priest and our lives changed forever. Quite honestly, I'm still not entirely sure how it happened, except that God willed it. And because He willed it, we are now embarking on a journey that was neither expected nor anticipated, but it most assuredly blessed.
And now here I am. A khouria. A matushka. A presbytera. A priest's wife. It still catches me off guard, and possibly always will. May God continually bless my steps, so I don't royally screw it up. And when I do, may He give me the strength to scrape myself off the floor and keep walking.
Monday, December 9, 2013
Pride Goeth Before the Haircut
I am the first one to admit that I don't have it all together. This goes for all of life in general, but most assuredly with parenting. I probably mess up more than I succeed, frankly, but I'm doing my best. I am determined to be the Mom God has called me to be, to the best of my ability. This determination is fueled sometimes by nothing other than sheer grit and caffeine, but always always always by love of my kids. They deserve the best. Rarely do I live up to it, but I try. Heaven help me, I try.
This being said, I am no saint. (Shocking revelation, I know). I try not to be prideful, but two things have always been my downfall: the fact that 95% of the time, my kids at least looked nice (matching clothes and brushed hair), and that they had never, EVER attempted to cut their own hair. When my friends' kids would butcher their hair, in the back of my mind, I would think to myself, "Thank goodness MY kids know better. I have put the fear of God into them regarding that particular activity, and they wouldn't dare."
Along with pride, I suffer from a distinct lack of humility. I have been praying for that lately, asking God and the Panaghia to teach me humility. But always, I ask them to please, PLEASE, teach it gently. Please.
Did you know pride and humility go hand in hand? Somehow, this particular revelation escaped me, until recently. Enter Friday night, when I walked upstairs to discover two of my beloved, well dressed children butchering their hair with a pair of scissors I had foolishly left in the bathroom, thinking they couldn't reach them.
Boom. Pride demolished. Lesson learned.
On a side note, I would just like to mention that my sisters and I purchased a family portrait session for my Mom's Christmas gift this year. We are due to sit for the pictures in two weeks. My older sister informed me (between spurts of laughter) that we would just look back on them and laugh in the coming years. I hope so. Thanks to the valiant effort of our very talented hairdresser, they don't look *quite* as ridiculous as they did. But still. It hurts.
I suppose there are far more painful ways to learn humility. I am deeply thankful to God for honoring my request for gentle lessons. And as I struggle to raise my kids, I know that they will continue to sand down my bumps, and teach me patience and humility. I hope and pray I am always receptive to their efforts.
This being said, I am no saint. (Shocking revelation, I know). I try not to be prideful, but two things have always been my downfall: the fact that 95% of the time, my kids at least looked nice (matching clothes and brushed hair), and that they had never, EVER attempted to cut their own hair. When my friends' kids would butcher their hair, in the back of my mind, I would think to myself, "Thank goodness MY kids know better. I have put the fear of God into them regarding that particular activity, and they wouldn't dare."
Along with pride, I suffer from a distinct lack of humility. I have been praying for that lately, asking God and the Panaghia to teach me humility. But always, I ask them to please, PLEASE, teach it gently. Please.
Did you know pride and humility go hand in hand? Somehow, this particular revelation escaped me, until recently. Enter Friday night, when I walked upstairs to discover two of my beloved, well dressed children butchering their hair with a pair of scissors I had foolishly left in the bathroom, thinking they couldn't reach them.
Boom. Pride demolished. Lesson learned.
On a side note, I would just like to mention that my sisters and I purchased a family portrait session for my Mom's Christmas gift this year. We are due to sit for the pictures in two weeks. My older sister informed me (between spurts of laughter) that we would just look back on them and laugh in the coming years. I hope so. Thanks to the valiant effort of our very talented hairdresser, they don't look *quite* as ridiculous as they did. But still. It hurts.
I suppose there are far more painful ways to learn humility. I am deeply thankful to God for honoring my request for gentle lessons. And as I struggle to raise my kids, I know that they will continue to sand down my bumps, and teach me patience and humility. I hope and pray I am always receptive to their efforts.
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Sunday, December 8, 2013
Third Time's A Charm
Well, let's give this blogging thing another shot, shall we? I've got four kids and nothing else to do, really. (HA).
Egads. Reread that last sentence, will you? I have four kids. FOUR. As Number 4 is not even five weeks old yet, I think that it hasn't quite sunk in that there are that many. Sometimes, it hits me in little flashes, like the other day at my Aunt and Uncle's house. I looked around the room, and every panel of my vision had one of my kids in it. I told my Uncle, in a slightly bewildered tone, "There's just so many of them now!" It also seems real when trying to usher all of them out the door at the same time. It's not so bad when Fr. John is around to help me herd them. But on my own? Heaven help me. It's like trying to round up gerbils. Every time you get one it the right place, two more escape and head in separate directions. (Enter the reason that I don't leave the house much anymore).
Going to church is nice though. People pity me there, and come out of the woodwork to help with the kids. Last night at Vespers, I turned around and three of them were gone. Poof! Just the oldest child and I, and she's the easiest (at least at church). She sat on my lap quietly, and I got to actually sing along and pay attention to what I was saying. I was at church, and actually praying. What a novelty.
But we digress. Back to the blog. Welcome! This is my third attempt at blogging, and I make no promises that this one will stick either. As previously discussed, I have my hands full. However, this is a good outlet for me, and I miss writing. So here goes.
My little "About me" on the side says: Khouria (Priest's wife), Orthodox Christian, Mother of Four. I'm pretty sure that about sums it up. I mean, I have hobbies and such, things that I'm good at and things that I'm bad at like any other person. But when you get down to the nitty gritty of what makes a person, these things seem to sum me up pretty well. What makes me who I am is my relationships, and the three most important are listed right there--my God, my husband, my kids. The facts that I like making (and eating) pie and can't keep plants alive to save my life seem pretty superfluous. But, in the interests of giving you a peek into my life, here are ten (possibly) little known facts about me.
1) I like food. I like to cook food, eat food, read about food, look at pictures of food. My Pinterest boards are out of control when it comes to food...and everything else, quite frankly.
2) I loathe cleaning the bathtub. I usually make my husband do it, which is why they usually only get cleaned when we're about to have house guests who will be sharing said bathtub.
3) As stated before, I can't keep plants alive. I usually do okay for awhile, then I grow tired of the whole "watering" thing and they die. Now that my older girls are of an age to be helpful, I can make them water things, but this usually ends up just making my life harder in the long run. I have visions of being a spectacular gardener, but reality always trumps.
4) I never thought having kids would be this hard. When I was a kid, it didn't seem that bad. Who knew?
5) I don't really like to travel. I love to do it to go see people, but as far as traveling for the sake of traveling--never gonna happen.
6) I also don't like driving.
7) I do like Dr. Pepper. And chocolate. And the afore mentioned pie.
8) One of my biggest pet peeves is misspelling in advertising. It makes me crazy. It's not EZ peel. It's EASY peel. Spell it correctly, for the love people!
9) I love to read. However, I do it as an escape, so it's mostly novels and the like. And sometimes not even good ones (*cough cough Twilight cough cough). However, I do love me some Harry Potter. And the Hunger Games.
10) I'm a fairly non-confrontational person, but I've discovered that if you mess with my kids, my mother bear instinct comes out and I become a beast. It's not pretty.
Well, it's a good thing I hit number ten, as I hear my son upstairs paging me. Back to the grind!
Egads. Reread that last sentence, will you? I have four kids. FOUR. As Number 4 is not even five weeks old yet, I think that it hasn't quite sunk in that there are that many. Sometimes, it hits me in little flashes, like the other day at my Aunt and Uncle's house. I looked around the room, and every panel of my vision had one of my kids in it. I told my Uncle, in a slightly bewildered tone, "There's just so many of them now!" It also seems real when trying to usher all of them out the door at the same time. It's not so bad when Fr. John is around to help me herd them. But on my own? Heaven help me. It's like trying to round up gerbils. Every time you get one it the right place, two more escape and head in separate directions. (Enter the reason that I don't leave the house much anymore).
Going to church is nice though. People pity me there, and come out of the woodwork to help with the kids. Last night at Vespers, I turned around and three of them were gone. Poof! Just the oldest child and I, and she's the easiest (at least at church). She sat on my lap quietly, and I got to actually sing along and pay attention to what I was saying. I was at church, and actually praying. What a novelty.
But we digress. Back to the blog. Welcome! This is my third attempt at blogging, and I make no promises that this one will stick either. As previously discussed, I have my hands full. However, this is a good outlet for me, and I miss writing. So here goes.
My little "About me" on the side says: Khouria (Priest's wife), Orthodox Christian, Mother of Four. I'm pretty sure that about sums it up. I mean, I have hobbies and such, things that I'm good at and things that I'm bad at like any other person. But when you get down to the nitty gritty of what makes a person, these things seem to sum me up pretty well. What makes me who I am is my relationships, and the three most important are listed right there--my God, my husband, my kids. The facts that I like making (and eating) pie and can't keep plants alive to save my life seem pretty superfluous. But, in the interests of giving you a peek into my life, here are ten (possibly) little known facts about me.
1) I like food. I like to cook food, eat food, read about food, look at pictures of food. My Pinterest boards are out of control when it comes to food...and everything else, quite frankly.
2) I loathe cleaning the bathtub. I usually make my husband do it, which is why they usually only get cleaned when we're about to have house guests who will be sharing said bathtub.
3) As stated before, I can't keep plants alive. I usually do okay for awhile, then I grow tired of the whole "watering" thing and they die. Now that my older girls are of an age to be helpful, I can make them water things, but this usually ends up just making my life harder in the long run. I have visions of being a spectacular gardener, but reality always trumps.
4) I never thought having kids would be this hard. When I was a kid, it didn't seem that bad. Who knew?
5) I don't really like to travel. I love to do it to go see people, but as far as traveling for the sake of traveling--never gonna happen.
6) I also don't like driving.
7) I do like Dr. Pepper. And chocolate. And the afore mentioned pie.
8) One of my biggest pet peeves is misspelling in advertising. It makes me crazy. It's not EZ peel. It's EASY peel. Spell it correctly, for the love people!
9) I love to read. However, I do it as an escape, so it's mostly novels and the like. And sometimes not even good ones (*cough cough Twilight cough cough). However, I do love me some Harry Potter. And the Hunger Games.
10) I'm a fairly non-confrontational person, but I've discovered that if you mess with my kids, my mother bear instinct comes out and I become a beast. It's not pretty.
Well, it's a good thing I hit number ten, as I hear my son upstairs paging me. Back to the grind!
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