Dinner with Kids

Chad's been working a lot lately. He's been out of the country and he's been working on a project that requires him to be at work late many days...and he is working this weekend and next (at least). So, as you can probably imagine, my life with my three little monkeys has been crazy as well. Sometimes people think that staying home with your kids means that every day is like the weekend.  Those people don't have kids.  It's possible those people have never even been around kids. If you are one of those people, don't say it to me because I will punch you in the face correct you.

Because it was a dreary day, and Chad had to work all day, I thought it would be nice to reward ourselves with a delicious dinner.  I haven't been cooking as much lately because I'd rather stick a pencil in my eye than go to the grocery store with all three kids. Thankfully, I did make a trip to Trader Joe's last week, so our refrigerator is finally well-stocked. I decided to make butternut squash ravioli with sage brown butter sauce, sourdough garlic bread, and caprese salad.  And wine.  Chad had to pick up the sage, basil, tomatoes, and fresh mozzarella on his way home from work. (Did I say our refrigerator was well-stocked? Well...maybe I forgot a few things.  And I bought thyme TWICE because my brain decided that s-a-g-e is actually spelled t-h-y-m-e.  I had three kids with me. We're lucky I didn't leave with a cart full of wine and chocolate.)

When we finally had the beautiful meal put together and plated, we sat down for a wonderful, peaceful dinner reminiscent of our time in Rome 5.5 years ago. Until Kian and Jonah began squealing and fighting from the other room because "Jonah won't let me put that toy away." (Really? Do we fight about who gets to put which toy away?) Chad calmed the situation and sat back down to eat. Immediately, more squealing and stomping from our 5-year-old. Chad got up and sent Kian, wailing and protesting, up the stairs to his room.  I poured some wine in my glass. Chad sat back down to enjoy his meal and we talked about how great everything tasted to the lilting soundtrack of Kian screaming and jumping up and down on the floor above the dining room. He finally calmed down, and I commented about the genius combination of garlic bread and caprese salad as a tiny fork sailed past my ear and landed on the edge of my plate.  Sometimes Eli likes to let us know he's done by hurling a utensil/food/cup at our heads.

It was finally time for Kian to apologize and join us at the table, and it seemed his attitude was much better.  He sat down and complained that his food was cold.  Then, when it was warmed, he promptly spit it out because it was "disgusting." Chad and I shared a look that said, "Let's go.  Let's just leave and go to a movie."  Actually, it wasn't a look.  We said it out loud and contemplated the consequences of walking out the door and coming back 2 hours later.

Our evening came to a close with far less dramatics, and I cuddled on the couch with my precocious five-year-old while ignoring the mess of dinner that was strewn about the kitchen and dining room. Chad fell asleep and Jonah and Eli played peacefully in the den.  And, when I say "peacefully", I mean something was probably getting destroyed and that was why they were being so quiet. It's ok. I can deal with it.  You can't hold on to "things" too tightly when you have kids. I love them. They're hilarious and smart and crazy and cool. And, holy crap, do they know how to ruin a dinner.

What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger

I've been working out a lot lately. I've been a runner for a while, but lately I've also been doing Insanity and Brazil Butt Lift (don't judge...those Brazilian butts are crazy). But this blog isn't about how much I've been working out. Running on the treadmill today, pouring sweat and listening to Kelly Clarkson's "What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stronger", I started thinking about the past 6 years of my life and where I am today. Almost 6 years ago, I got pregnant with my first child. From then on, I went through a cycle of pregnant -> nursing -> pregnant -> nursing -> pregnant -> nursing. If you don't know me and/or you need help counting, I have 3 kids. I've been through hormonal ups and downs the likes of which only other crazy mothers could understand. I say "crazy", because, if you are one of those mothers who wakes up every morning refreshed and singing rainbows about the day to come, little squirrels and rabbits happily gathered around your Disney princess feet, then you probably have no idea what I'm talking about.

I've been hard on myself. I want perfection and I never get it. The thing is, though...a lot of the world kind of dismisses you when you have kids. Your kids need everything from you...and while they are really young you give them everything you have. My experience is that you are kind of empty for a while. You just pour it all out and then you take a look at what you're left with and you think, "Is this me? Is this who I am now?" People ask what you do and when you say, "I stay home with my kids" they get a glazed look in their eyes...a look that says, "Oh. So you have nothing interesting or intelligent to contribute to this conversation then. Dear God please don't let her start trying to show me pictures of her kids." Sometimes you get a head tilt and a patronizing, "Being a mom is the most important job in the world. *Dear God please don't let her start trying to show me pictures of her kids.*" Before you get all defensive...I know that not everyone who says that means it in a patronizing way. But, if you are a person who often says it...please think about how you say it. Do you mean it? Or are you just trying to say something to comfort me because you actually feel sorry for me? If it's the latter...just don't say it. Believe me, I can tell. Because, contrary to popular belief, having kids hasn't actually made me stupid.

Anyway- back to my original point. I've realized that, since having kids, I like a grueling workout. I used to HATE grueling workouts. But, pregnancy, childbirth, and motherhood have taught me many valuable lessons...one of which is that, by the grace of God, what doesn't kill you does indeed make you stronger. Pregnancy and childbirth are HARD. Being a parent is HARD. Every pregnancy and childbirth has proven to me that my body is STRONG. Things I thought I couldn't do...I can do. But the crazy thing is that a lot of the world doesn't see it that way. These things that build incredible strength in you somehow diminish you in the eyes of people who don't understand. And sometimes we believe them. Sometimes we tell ourselves the same story...that we don't matter...that we don't still have incredible potential...that, instead of raising amazing and talented children while still following our own passions, our lives are reduced to making peanut butter and jelly and playing peekaboo. And those things are not the truth. Yes we make peanut butter and jelly. But we also teach our kids compassion, grace, mercy, and justice. We meet the condescension of many who tout "masculinity" as the definition of courage, strength, and perseverance with...courage, strength, and perseverance. As a side note, I am so thankful for my husband who exhibits all of those qualities...and also doesn't feel the need to reduce me to a shadow of them.

I went through a time of feeling defined by the world around me. I went through a time of feeling defined by a distorted view of myself. Thank you God that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I'm not all the way there yet...but I'm still just at the starting line. And I follow a God who makes all things possible.

a letter to a girl who's not me

This is a letter to a girl who is not me. She is not me because I am going to say to her all the things I cannot say to myself. This is a girl who has 3 kids or 1 kid or 6 kids or no kids.

You are wonderfully imperfect and beautifully created. You look in the mirror and you see where your jeans don't fit you like the mannequin in the store, or your shirt pulls a little too tight where you'd like it to fall loose. You look in the mirror and see the things you don't love about yourself. You look in the magazine or on the tv or on the computer or out your front window and see images of women who are more perfect than you. You read on a blog or in a Christian self-help book or in an article about a Hollywood actress about how to lose weight so other people will like you better.

Well they won't like you better when your jeans fit like a mannequin, because they love you now. They love your smile and how you laugh at awkward things. They love your passion about life and your quirky perspective. They love to share life with you when you are sad or happy or angry or tired.

So, damn Hollywood and all the pictures they put into your head about what it means to be a woman. Damn the articles about the Hollywood actress who "takes time for herself" to work out and eat right everyday, when that day includes leaving the kids with a well-paid nanny and going to drink her green juice and spending 3 hours with her personal trainer. Damn the tabloids who take unflattering pictures of famous women on the beach in order to make fun of them and in the process make fun of you.

You are wonderfully imperfect and beautifully created. Go ahead and run 5 miles and then congratulate yourself for the amazing things your body can do. Do not let the Hollywood messages about perfection let you judge yourself or anyone else by a standard we cannot meet. You are fiercely loved and uniquely gifted. You were not put on this earth to be a picture in a magazine. You were put on this earth to change it. Now go do it.

mom jeans and flash mobs

I'm nearing the end of nursing Eli (oh thank you Lord) and I'm just trying to wean him slowly like you're supposed to do (even though I want to just give up right now, today). Some people just love breastfeeding and look back on it fondly for the rest of their lives. That's totally fine and I really respect those people. But I am not one of them. It doesn't make me absolutely miserable or anything...I'm just really ready to have my body back to myself. Over the past 5 years, I have been pregnant or nursing for all but 3 of those months. It might sound super selfish to want to be done nursing...but that is how I feel. So I am down to only feeding Eli twice a day (once in the morning, and once before bed at night). Over the next 4 weeks I will finish completely (and Eli will be turning 1!!) My body just doesn't completely go back to normal until I have completely weaned. It's not like that for everyone, but I have definitely noticed that trend in myself.

Anyway- yay for being almost done!! And just in time for my 30th birthday (on Aug. 22)! Thirty is such a weird number in my brain. I've always had an idea of what 30 would look like...and it certainly is not what I was thinking. I just don't really feel grown up like 30 seems to represent. I mean...in a lot of ways...my life is very "grown up." But I'm not one of those people who frown on joking about bodily functions, I don't feel like it's time to start wearing mom jeans, I absolutely frown on the idea that "you're a mom now so you should...(not care about how you look...not joke this way...etc...fill in the blank)." In fact, Chad and I have a really silly sense of humor, I make up songs about food, sometimes I imagine screaming cuss words at inappropriate times, sometimes I imagine doing a one-man flash mob dance in the middle of Target, and sometimes I let my kids wear their pjs all day and then go to bed in them again. And I sing love songs to my kitchen aid mixer. I'm not saying that 30 has to look like all of those negative things I mentioned (I know it doesn't...cause I know plenty of people who have turned 30), I'm just saying I had a picture in my mind from when I was a teenager...and that picture does not match up with reality. Ah...I mean, I think maybe I'm just never going to really "feel" grown up or old like I think it's supposed to feel. I have a feeling that, when I turn 40, I'm still going to be making up songs about food and imagining screaming cuss words at inappropriate times. And I hope I still won't be wearing mom jeans. I think Chad and I will still be having a blast jumping on trampolines at sky zone and laughing about "immature things" and I still won't feel grown up. It's cool...I'm sure my kids will think I'm old.

cupcake wedding

I'm a little late blogging about this, but I still wanted to share about the wedding I recently did. It was quite an experience! First off, I have to say that Adam and Erica were BY FAR the most laid back couple I have ever encountered. One reason I shy away from weddings is that there is so much pressure for perfection! I don't want my cupcakes to be "that thing they wish they could do differently." But Adam and Erica met just about every question I had for them with, "Eh...We don't really care. What's easiest for you?" I was dumbfounded. And thankful that the first wedding I was committing to was not one that pinned its hopes and dreams on my decorating ability. In fact, they had no idea what the top cake was going to look like until they saw it the day of the wedding!

This beautiful pic (and the others) was taken by my friend and photographer, Stephen Pflug.

I had to make 200+ cupcakes and one cake for the top. I will say that I definitely learned some valuable lessons about baking for a big event. I pretty much planned out every detail of the week leading up to the wedding, and I think it really saved me a lot of time and sanity by week's end. Chad's mom also took the boys all day Thursday which allowed me to bake and decorate all 200+ cupcakes between the hours of 9 and 5! It was weird because, although I was working super hard and baking all day, I didn't have my 3 boys...so the day was strangely stress free and even somewhat relaxing? I guess that gives you an idea of what it's like to take care of 3 boys all the time! Probably the most stressful part of the whole thing was decorating that cake for the top! I've never done that before...and I was a shaky, sweaty ball of nerves the whole time I was doing it. Did you know you can sweat inside your ears? Cause you can.



On Friday afternoon (the day of the wedding), my mom went with me to help me set up and make everything look pretty. I had it in my mind that I would feel a huge relief as soon as those cupcakes (and the cake!) were set up and I walked out the door. However, when I got there, the coordinator informed me that we would be putting them on a table with wheels....so that they could wheel them out to the tent when it was time to cut the cake...wheel them over thick carpet and through 2 doorways...which, in the cupcake world, I can only describe as "rough terrain." My heart was in my stomach. I tried to inform her that I wasn't at all sure how stable the set up was (after all...I had planned on it being set up and then just sitting there) and that this tower of cupcakes wasn't built for off-roading. She laughed it off and informed me that she hadn't lost a wedding cake yet and that it would be fine. Suffice it to say, I did not leave that place with the internal relief for which I was hoping. I fretted all night until I finally received a text from a friend letting me know that everything went well and nothing fell apart. Thank you Lord.

I also learned a lot about the actual cost of the cupcakes I've been making. These things are a little more expensive than I had roughly estimated in my head. Thanks to an amazingly intelligent cupcake cost calculator spreadsheet Chad made for me (have I mentioned before that he is amazingly intelligent?) I have a better idea of how much to charge. I'll reiterate that I am still not doing this as a business (Question in your mind: "What ARE you doing then, Mary?" Answer in my mind: "I have no idea."). Basically, I make cupcakes for people sometimes, when I'm available and they really, really want them. I'm no pro. I'm definitely not a professional decorator. I do love to mess around with baking principles and interesting flavors and ingredients to create delicious desserts. I like to take baking problems and correct them (ex. cake that's too dry/too dense/not flavorful enough...etc.) I know it seems like I have a cupcake business since I have been baking cupcakes for people just about every weekend for the past month...and I have no answer for that. I'll just leave it at that.

shake n' bake

I am baking 200+ cupcakes and a small cake top for a wedding on Friday. This is the first time that I've agreed to do such a thing...and I am trying to plan it out perfectly so that I can minimize stress/maximize efficiency. That's not an easy feat when you have 3 kids 4 and under in tow. Thankfully, I have family and friends who have volunteered to help me with the kids and other things. And it helps that the bride and groom are probably the most laid back engaged couple I have ever encountered. So, I am making frosting today and hopefully finishing decorating the giant cupcake tier. Wednesday I will make the cake top (I am a little nervous about this because I generally do not do cakes). Thursday Chad's mom will take the boys all day so that I can have an all day cupcake bake-a-thon/decorate-a-thon. Friday I will transport/set up everything in the afternoon for the evening reception. And Friday night I will drink a giant margarita relax.

I will try to take photos of the end creation, but my super talented friend Stephen Pflug will be doing the wedding photography and will also catch a few pics of the cupcakes/cake for me! Now...if I can just figure out how to fit in making dinner/cleaning house/running/sleeping/doing some much-needed yard work/getting some work done on my other editing/writing job then things will be perfect! I am fully expecting that at least 2 of these things will fall off the table...and I am determined that running will NOT be one of them. Sigh...Lord help me to juggle everything on my plate this week!

I don't know if you know this about me, but I love food. Now, it's not just a blanket eat-a-bunch-of-twinkies-and-doritos kind of love. It's a holy-cow-with-the-right-ingredients-food-is-art kind of love. Anton Ego from Ratatouille says it best, "I don't LIKE food. I LOVE it. If I don't love it, then I don't SWALLOW." Obviously I am not this extreme, but I certainly related to this comment when he said it! Food looks beautiful, it smells beautiful, it tastes beautiful...there are different colors and textures and flavors that combine in infinite ways. All of your senses are engaged when the right dish comes together. I love looking at beautiful pictures of food and imagining how to tweak recipes so the flavor comes together in a symphony of perfection in your mouth. Does this sound overboard? Probably. But I am passionate about it.

I think probably everyone needs some sort of creative outlet. I mean, it's not really just about food...it's about the process...it's about painting a picture in your mind and then watching it come to life on the canvas. It's about taking the things inside you that you can't express and funneling them into something that you can. I think we all have a desire to create beauty in some way. It comes from being made in the image of a Creator who loves and creates beauty on a scale that is majestic and minute. We love to create because we are created.

I love to research the science behind food. I like to know why certain ingredients produce certain outcomes. Beautiful food is not just dependent on flavor...it's dependent on texture and mouth-feel. Quality ingredients beget quality food, method and technique influence how the flavors come together.

I am absolutely not claiming to be a chef or even an expert. I haven't attended culinary school and there are many, many things I do not know. I am probably a better baker than I am a cook, but I am still far from a professional. I have as many failures as I do successes. But, I love food. I love to make something that someone else enjoys. Someone loving something that I have made is a unique kind of joy for me. I love to express love to people through food. I love teaching my sons an appreciation for good food and I love teaching them how to make it.

I'm sure there are some who will read this and totally relate. Probably others will think I'm a lunatic. Either way, you should let me cook for you sometime. Hopefully it will taste good, but even if it doesn't, now you'll know what kind of love was put into it!