See what I see...

Facebook seems crowded with women posting and re-posting this video from Dove.

I wont get into the obvious flaws of this "study" that make the results completely unreliable, because this post is already too long.  On the surface, I think we all can appreciate that women in general don't give themselves enough credit, or are too critical of their appearances leading to low self esteem issues that plague the female sex.  OK.  After that tiny ounce of credit I give the company, I must now get on my well worn soapbox.

Women are more than physical beauty.  Physical beauty is shallow.  It is empty.  It says nothing of value about the person.  However we, as human beings cannot help but want it.  I'll admit, I want it.  It's in the title of my blog!  I want to be pretty, and think I am.  But really, I don't care to be remembered that way.  I want my friends to remember me, as pretty smart, pretty kind, pretty thoughtful, pretty sweet, pretty devoted, pretty faithful, pretty creative, pretty selfless...

Why are we so obsessed with physical appearances?  I could go on and on about the media and it's negative impacts on self image, but it wouldn't even exist if the desire to be beautiful wasn't already there.  We want and love physical beauty, because it's natural.  Scientifically, that desire is there to preserve the species.  Signs of beauty are typically correlated with signs of good health, thus encouraging the mating of healthy people, and creating offspring most likely to survive.  So, it's in our genetic makeup to pursue it and desire it.  It's natural.  That doesn't mean it's right.

A great king in the ancient Americas, King Benjamin, and consequently our son's namesake, in his old age gathered all of his people together so he could give them a final address before his death.  His people gathered for miles, setting up their tents around a tower erected for the King to speak from.  He taught many great and beautiful things.  His words are recorded in The Book of Mormon, and among the great wisdom he shared with his people, he gave the following, found in Mosiah 3:19:

For the natural man is an enemy to God, and has been from the fall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father.  

While we naturally are drawn to physical beauty, and want to judge others and ourselves by those worldly standards, that is not the way of God.  We must rise above that.  Did you notice what example King Benjamin uses to illustrate how to put off the natural man?  He describes a child.

Children see us as we are.  They love freely, unhindered by physical characteristics.  They can see what somehow, as adults, we cannot so easily see.  They have a Christlike love that is pure and unaffected.  Quick to forgive, they openly share unblemished devotion to almost everyone they know.  There are exceptions.  They do judge, but the way God judges- by choices and actions.   Think of the children you know and adore. They love most those who are the kindest to them.  Anyone who is harsh, mean, or mistreats them, they turn away from, fear, and do not love.  And yet, sweetly, they still want to.  They want to love everyone.

In God's eyes, we are beautiful because He made us.  He wants us to see that, and to see that in others.  He wants us to see what is good, and to try to be that way ourselves.  He wants us to follow the example of His son, Jesus Christ.

Look in the mirror.  Do you limit yourself to your natural inhibitions, judging by meaningless, empty physical traits, or do you look beyond the natural man, and see something more?  I challenge you to see how our Savior sees.  He loves you.  He knows your great potential.  Find the things in that reflection that are truly beautiful.  Look at the person who is a good friend.  Find in your eyes someone who loves to study, read, and learn.  Take in the beauty of an individual who is independent, creative, and brave.  Look at the hands that have brought comfort, shared freely, and worked long and patiently for others.  You have feet that can run miles, that can dance, that can take you to great places, ears that can recognize music everywhere, and a mouth that can teach, whisper, smile, and sing.  You have strength to stand up for yourself and others, and a heart that is able to share, love, and forgive.  This is what the Savior sees, what we were meant to do with our bodies, and this precious gift of life we have.  This is what beauty is.

Here is a song and slideshow that I think paint a sweet picture of this very message.

And here's a better video, that teaches so much more than that weak commercial for Dove products.  It speaks of our divine heritage.  We are sons and daughters of God, with endless potential for good.  The true beauty in our reflection, comes from the choice to follow Jesus Christ.


Rise above the sleaze and natural, lost, and lonely images the world is trying to put forth.  Your beauty is based on something so much greater, and is meant to last forever.  So forever lose yourself in those things that have great worth, and mold an individual to be admired and loved for all that you are, and can do.  Something divinely beautiful.
     

Put a Dad in It

A song came to mind as I was scrolling through the latest pictures on my camera.  It's Brooks & Dunn's song Put a Girl in It.  It's all about how everything in life is better if you "put a girl in it".  Except of course, I was substituting "Dad" for "girl".  Everything is just better with Dad in the mix.

Warning, if you click on my link to the music video of the Brooks & Dunn song, I suggest you listen without watching the video.  It's full of some less than respectable girls, pretty, but scantily clad, drinking and dancing.  I can't help but leave the disclaimer that life in general is much better without that kind of girl.  AND girls are capable of so much more than looking and acting sexy.  Where are the clips of girls wiping the tears of a toddler, putting an arm around a lonely friend, teaching a class, baking something irresistible...  So, yeah, cute and true song, but very sexist video.   

Here's a much better video, if I do say so myself!!!  Daddy isn't in all of the photos, because more often than not, he was behind the camera!!!  We've all been drinking in the family time, in satisfying heavy doses.

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To each of my sweethearts, whether you're 32 or not quite 2, isn't it obvious we belong together?!      

I dance in my kitchen

      

I dance in my kitchen a lot.  After I put the kids to bed, I turn up my rockin' out tunes, and while I'm sweeping the never quite clean floor, and taking part in that circle of life that is dishwashing (they're never all clean, it's just a rotating circle of sink, to dishwasher, to cupboards, repeat!) I dance.  Not well, of course.  I'm no dancer.  I took 1 tap/ballet class for a month or so when I was 6, and then my DH took me to a ballroom dance class one time during the early stages of dating, when he wasn't yet sure if he should admit he hates dancing.  So I'm no good.  But I love it anyway.  I'm like Baloo the Bear, from Disney's The Jungle Book.  I hear the groove, and I have to move.  It slows down my kitchen cleanup a bit, but it's a nice stress reliever too.  I twist, I shake, I bounce, and I lose myself in the beat for a few minutes.

I realized the other day, that I don't do this all the time.  It's a deployment thing.  I don't know if it's because I'm too self-conscious to completely let loose like that in front of my husband, or maybe I'm worried he'll be annoyed with the loud music.  I've never given it enough thought to know why.  But it got me thinking.  Are there other things I'll miss when he comes home?  Am I even allowed to miss anything about this temporary husbandless existence of mine?

It's strange trying to think about that.  My inner-self splits into two personalities.  One is the loving wife, do-anything-for-your-marriage-and-life-is-miserable-without-him side, and the other is my feminist, you-don't-need-a-man-to-complete-you (add a snap and body roll to that) side.  The feminist tries to think of things I've enjoyed while he was gone, and the loving wife side jumps in and stops those thoughts saying, "It doesn't matter!!!" or "You just did that to pass the time while he was away!!"

It's an odd conflict, and I'm not sure either side ever wins.  Probably because they both are a part of me.  However, I think I will let the feminist have her day, and make my list.  But to pacify the loving wife, I'll add the disclosure that I'd trade the entire list right now for even just snuggling on the couch with my husband, watching football that I'm sort of paying attention to.  Wait- make that college basketball.  Football season is over.  I forgot.  Obviously he's been gone awhile.  ESPN.com and Cougarboard aren't even on our google chrome most visited pages list anymore!!!  They have been replaced with Pinterest, Facebook, Amazon, and the Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines page.  

1.  Online shopping.  I do, of course, still buy things when he's home, but when he's gone I have the "I'm lonely so I'm sending myself a package" excuse.  It's a fabulous excuse, even if half the wearable things get returned because it turns out I don't look as much like the model as I thought I did.

2.  Fast Food.  I cook well when I have a husband to eat it.  Otherwise, I'm not ashamed to admit fast food happens a lot.  Enough for my 4 year old to sigh with happiness and say, "I love drive-thru's!"  It's too frustrating cooking for myself and 3 minis.  Unless it's pancakes, waffles, one of the many forms of hot dogs (hot dogs, corn dogs, pigs in a blanket, chili dogs, hot dogs cut up with beans) or frozen chicken nuggets, someone wont eat it.  Healthy meals I either have to eat myself for a week (because I don't know how to cut my family recipes down) or end up throwing it out.  Both are not ideal.  So fast food and pizza have been our friends.  Don't judge 'till you've walked the 4 month mile.  Or the two month mile, times 7.  

3.  The sewing bug.  I've caught it a few times this deployment, and have made several satisfying projects that make me want to smile, snap a picture, post it somewhere and proclaim, "Yeah, I made that!".  It's not so satisfying however staying up late trying to finish something, while my husband is in bed wondering when sewing became more attractive than him.  When he's gone however, I can stay up 'till 2 am guilt free, finishing up something adorable.

4.  Chick Flicks.  They replace the 4 games of football/basketball/baseball going on simultaneously on the iPad, computer, TV, and phone.  I cry at the good parts, without making anyone concerned for my emotional stability, and don't have to tune out the teasing banter about the obvious lacking in masculinity of the male heroes in my beloved favorite films.  Edward, Mr. Darcy, Tad Hamilton, and the others are safe.

5.  Reading without stopping.  I don't have it in me to give up reading when my DH comes home, but I do try a little harder not to get so lost in my books, that I don't notice he went to bed 3 hours ago.  It's happened, I'm ashamed to say.  But when he's gone, I don't need to use any caution.  No reason to rush off to a cold, lonely bed.  It's not going anywhere, unlike the plot of my book!

6.  Girl Time.  It's much easier planning in girl time, because I can do it pretty much 24-7.  My schedule is wide open.  Virtually.  The kids do have a few things.  But for the most part, when a girlfriend wants to hang out, the answer is most emphatically, "yes!"

7.  Spaghetti, Shepherd's Pie, Chili, Taco Soup.  When I do get around to cooking, I make what I like, and don't need to compromise two sets of tastes.

Seven is a lucky number, so I'll stop there.  I can't think of anything else major at the moment anyway.

To my amazing husband when his internet works long enough to read this, I miss you like a dieter misses doughnuts, like pot roast misses salt, like a city night misses stars, like a Virginia girl living in the desert would miss trees.  Lots and lots.  But, I am a trained resilient girl, and am learning to look for the good things in any situation.  I've found a few, that keep me happy and busy when I'm missing you.  But sleep well knowing none of them come close to spending time with the most important person in my world.

Spilled chocolate milk

I looked my 4 year old in the eye, and said, "now I need you to be so careful with this milk.  I don't have an extra dress for you, and if you spill this chocolate milk all over your dress, we have to go home."

She returned my serious look, and said she understood.  We were sitting in the car, in front of the Burger King on base, scarfing down some lunch before attending an "I'm a hero too" party for children with deployed parents.  The kids had been looking forward to the party all day.

Can you guess what happened 10 minutes into our little meal?  Of course.  Spilled chocolate milk.  All. Over.  She was soaked.  Now what?  We live 30 minutes from base, no time to go get a change of clothes.  Well, I came up with the brilliant idea to go to the BX, and see if I can't find a 4T outfit, and still salvage our afternoon.  For all my non-military readers, the BX stands for Base Exchange, and is sort of like an on-base Wal-mart or Target.

I unbuckled and hustled everyone into the store as fast as their little legs could go, and toddler on my hip, diaperbag on my shoulder, little girls trailing, I grabbed the first outfit I could find.  It was a bright orange, frilly, sparkly, bejeweled top with zebra print capris.  A little more funky than what I usually buy, but Merrylee was pleased, and Anny was grateful her fun day wasn't ruined by a younger sibling.  I tried not to think of all the negative behaviors I was reinforcing as I paid the cashier.

The girls made some new friends at the party, and when I wasn't chasing around my energetic toddler, I was able to grab brief bits of conversation with other tired but stalwart moms fighting the same home-front fight.

After the party, I had planned to brave the mall with my crew so I could return some online purchases, and buy a birthday present.  I lost count of how many times I said in my loudest-but-not-yet-yelling voice, "Do not touch anything!"

We fit the exhausted-mom-shopping-with-too-many-kids mold pretty nicely.  The girls fought and picked at each other, while my nap-depraved son whined in the stroller, and dropped his lovey about every 5 minutes. Still, I managed to make my returns, buy the birthday gift, and even found time to buy a few fragrant hand soaps from Bath and Body Works.  I would have liked to have actually smelled most of their scents and chosen my favorites, but due to a lacking in both time and well behaved children, I went with the first one I liked, another that had a catchy title, and two favorites of the cashiers.

By then everyone was hungry.  I settled for pizza and lemonade in the food court for the kids, and a gyro and flavored fries for me.  The gyro was just ok, but I knew from experience, the fries would be amazing, thanks to their secret recipe seasoning.

I warned Merrylee to be extra careful not to get pizza onto her brand new shirt, and told Anny to be careful with the lemonade, and share with her sister.  Can you guess what happened?  Of course.  Greasy pizza, splat, onto the new shirt.  The lemonade spilled.  Thankfully, there was a lid on the lemonade, so the first initial spill wasn't too bad.  The second, third, and fourth however, took it's toll on our stack of napkins, everyone's laps, and my patience.  I didn't realize we also had a nice little sticky puddle of lemonade on the floor- until Ben dropped his lovey into it.

We went home.  I bathed the kids, we had scripture study, and everyone went to bed before 7.  A little early for a Saturday night, but I was done being a parent.

Feeling drained and a bit fragile, I cut myself a generous slice of leftover black forest cake, and settled into my computer chair, ready to unwind, and prepare my Sunday school lesson for the nursery.  On the LDS website where they have the lesson manuals, I saw this video.  Happy to procrastinate my lesson planning, I watched.



I cannot watch this little video without tearful gratitude for my Heavenly Father's love for me.  My frustrating afternoon and troubles suddenly seemed so infantile and small.  How many things have I taken for granted today?  How many times has God had patience with me, and warned me about bad choices, only to watch me make them anyway?  How many times has He then continued to bless and assist me, despite my imperfections?  He'll clean up spilled chocolate milk. He will turn my mistakes into growth and blessings.  He wont mock me for crying over silly little things, and he'll continually bless me with more ways to be happy.  He will always be there.  He will always provide.  I will never be able to pay Him back, or even fully comprehend all He has done for me.  He doesn't expect me to.  He does everything for me, for the same reason I do everything for my own children.  I love my babies.  Heavenly Father loves me.  He loves me because I am His child, and He is my Father.    

Why don't we hear this more?

I came across this article from the Washington Post on Facebook.  I had to share, both on my own page and here.  I loved this article.  It made me feel proud to be a SAHM.  (Stay at home mom!)  I started thinking about it though.  Why don't more people acknowledge this?  Why aren't moms screaming from the rooftops the long list of endless work motherhood entails?  That would no doubt snuff out much of the criticism.     Perhaps the answer to that question lies in the first line of the last paragraph in the article.  Being a stay-at-home-mom is a choice.  There is nothing in the world a man or woman can love more than a mother loves her babies.  So she's not going to complain about her job.  If she's upset and overworked, it's not because she hates being a mother.  It's because she's worried that despite her exhaustion, she still might not be doing enough.

   
You may also read the article online here.

It came, still the same

I grow tired every year of the commonly accepted and shared idea both on TV and even among Christians, that for one reason or another, Christmas this year may not come.  In the movies, it's usually tied to some sort of tragedy that may yet happen to Santa Claus.  Among Christians, you hear them mention that Christmas may not come to certain underprivileged families if it weren't for our charity.

The Santa Claus idea, is of course, ridiculous.  Didn't the Grinch already try that?  He posed as Santa, and undid all of his work.  We all know the story, right?  He sat on the cliff of Mt. Crumpit, with his sleigh full of stolen holiday gifts, and waited for the crying in the Whoville valley to begin.  But it did not.

"That's a noise," grinned the Grinch, "that I simply must hear!"
He paused, and the Grinch put a hand to his ear
And he did hear a sound rising over the snow
It started in low . . .
. . . then it started to grow . . . 

But this--this sound wasn't sad!
Why, this sound sounded . . . glad! 

Every Who down in Whoville,
the tall and the small,
was singing--without any presents at all! 

He hadn't stopped Christmas from coming--it came!
Somehow or other, it came just the same."

Dr. Doofenshmirtz also tried to destroy Christmas.  In that great modern animated marvel that is Phineas and Ferb, he created a "naughty-inator", that marked the entire town of Danville as naughty, and thus causing Santa to skip their town.  But as he plays his Secret-Santa gifted CD of Music by Sal Tuscany, he hears the lyrics rise in volume, "Christmas cannot be destroyed!  Not even by a naughty-inator!!!"

It isn't destroyed, of course.  Phineas and Ferb feel a rush of charitable Christmas Spirit, and with the help of little elves and good friends, they deliver the toys themselves, only to realize Santa was there all along, enjoying their rest stop they created for him on their roof.  Santa thanks them for "doing the Danville run", which allowed him a nice little break.  He hints at a higher order of things, that despite evil schemes, cannot be taken away from us at Christmastime.

In times of tragedy, war, or great sadness, we can be tempted to skip Christmas, or even doubt it's meaning.  Longfellow wrote the poem and now beloved Christmas carol, I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day, on December 25, 1864, during the American Civil War.  It was right after his son was severely injured in a battle, and the recent tragic death of his wife in a fire.

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent
And made forlorn
The households born

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said;
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

In the midst of war, and sorrow, he felt all Christianity had been drowned out by the sound of cannons, and the cries of families, now husband and fatherless.  But then the music of the bells ring a message of eternal truth, piercing to the soul.

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep;
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men"

Longfellow knew, as all good Christians must, that Christmas cannot ever be destroyed.  It cannot be destroyed, because the Savior came.  He was born, he lived!!  He lived a perfect life, of charity, of peace, of sacrifice.  He sacrificed himself for all of us, and he was murdered, betrayed by his own.  But not even death could hold him.  After three days, our Lord and Savior, rose again.  He was resurrected.  He lives!!!  He conquered pain, sin, sadness, and death.  He returned in all His glory, and we all love and worship Him, most especially on Christmas.

We don't need any of the fun traditions, colors, gifts, music, movies, or frills that come with Christmas, to celebrate it's meaning.

"And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow,
stood puzzling and puzzling.  How could it be so?
It came without ribbons!  It came without tags!
It came without packages, boxes or bags! 

And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before.
What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store?
What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?"

Christmas means so much more.  Christmas is the meaning behind why we are here, our purpose in life, and where we are going after this.  Christmas is about the Savior, and following Him.  No amount of sad circumstances or loss can take away the miracle of Jesus Christ.  Not war, not poverty, not absence of loved ones, or even lack of faith or believing, can ever do that.  Christmas cannot be destroyed.

"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep!"

The gift of our Savior is free to everyone and anyone who will take upon themselves His name, and try to live like Him.  His gift is perfect, eternal, and will be denied to no one who comes to Him.

Good Christians try to reach out to friends and neighbors during Christmastime, and the love shared during this season is beautiful and inspiring.  But we are not saving Christmas when we share with the needy and less fortunate.  Because there is nothing to save.  The saving has already been done.

Even the forgotten, or those out of our reach, suppressed and imprisoned by tyrants, warlords, and other evil people who attempt to hurt, abuse, and destroy, can still be touched by the gift the Savior has given us.  While we cannot help them, the Savior can, and has.  There is nothing any being can do to deny the gifts of our Savior.  

To quote a great Easter hymn, He is Risen:

He is risen! He is risen!
Tell it out with joyful voice.
He has burst his three days' prison;
Let the whole wide earth rejoice.
Death is conquered; man is free.
Christ has won the victory. 

This year my family celebrated Christmas.  We couldn't all be together in the same room, but we celebrated just the same.  We were happy.  We found peace in the gift of our Savior.  We felt the eternal bonds of our family stretch across the world, keeping us together.  Christmas was not destroyed because someone was missing.  Our tiny family celebrated the gift our Savior, that began on a silent, sacred, holy night.  We are grateful for His love and sacrifice.  We know He loves our family.  We understand that our joy and blessings come through Him.  We were able to see, on that sacred day, that those blessings are precious, and are many.

So from our home to yours, may we quote the words of Santa Claus, who understands more than the movies of our time give him credit, "Merry Christmas to ALL, and to ALL, a goodnight."

May you find joy and peace in the gift that was yours before you were born, 2,013 years ago.
    

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How I can do it

"I don't know how you do it."

I hear that phrase so often when others hear how frequently my husband has to deploy.  They are being kind, and I know that.  Perhaps they are imagining me standing at the doorway, watching as he rolls his bags down the driveway to a taxi, or maybe they can picture too many tender goodbyes he's made to our kids.  They too may know something of loneliness, or the exhaustion that comes from doing things day after day, without help or relief.

How can I do this over and over?  How do I stay happy, raise babies, and keep our house a home, when I so often have to do it alone?  I can do it because of my faith.  I believe in Christ.  I believe that I am a daughter of God, who loves me, and I love Him.  I feel strength when I read the scriptures.  I feel peace when I read them to my children.

I love my husband.  I worry about his safety, and the idea that he may not make it home is ever present in my mind.  While I would never welcome that possibility, I do not fear it.  I know that I am not forgotten.  I know my life matters to God.  He loves my family, and he is there, watching, and helping us everyday.  When I pray about these things, I can feel it in my heart, with a strength I cannot question.

Every year I include a scripture that has special meaning to me in our Christmas card.  This year the choice was very easy.

John 16:33

These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace.  In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.

This year, as we face another holiday season apart, I will have moments of weakness, grief, and loneliness.  But I believe in Jesus Christ, and He overcame the world.  If he overcame the world, what are my small trials in comparison?  He has helped me, and still will, come what may.

World's Cutest Baby Costume

We're mixing things up this year with our holidays.  We've already celebrated Thanksgiving and set up for Christmas, which makes now the perfect time to talk about Halloween (of course, also already celebrated).

I made the cutest costume for Benjamin for Halloween!  It helps making the world's cutest costume, when it goes on the world's cutest baby!

In case you haven't yet guessed, my husband, Ben, and I went for a Phineas and Ferb theme this year.  Our cute girls are old enough to choose their own costumes, so they didn't follow the theme.  My DH was Dr. Doofenshmirtz, (handsome version, of course)

I was the lovely Vanessa Doofenshmirtz,


And Benjamin was none other than Perry the Platypus- aka Agent P.



I did a little internet searching, and to my surprise you cannot buy Perry costumes made for babies or kids!  I searched high and low, and all I came up with were a few Perry hats and accessories.  One blog claimed Disney isn't currently allowing them to be sold.  Weird.  So I took matters into my own hands!  Want to know how to work my magic?  Well, it was pretty simple, but here's a quick "how to"-

How to make your own baby Perry the Platypus Costume

Step 1- the onesie.
I did a quick internet search for a teal green onesie with long sleeves, and found one with little effort.

Step 2 - the leg warmers
I ordered a pair of children's small gold colored soccer socks from Amazon, and cut out the bottom and most of the top of the feet, leaving just a baby sized flap for the top of Ben's feet.  Using my sewing machine, I pinched 3 little lines to make the webbed duck feet lines.

Step 3 - the tail
Using the bottoms of the socks I cut out, I sewed them together, then did some cris-cross quilting on the top for the Platypus tail.  Then I sewed the tail to the butt of the onesie.

Step 4 - the Fedora!
I found this one on Amazon.  There were several to choose from, this one was $15 plus shipping.  I added the little elastic so it wasn't quite as easy for Ben to yank it off.

I realize he is lacking in a Platypus bill, but there's no covering this cute face!!!

See, pretty simple, and practically self explanatory from the pictures.  Doesn't he look perfect?!!  Best Halloween we've had yet!  

Tail view

I took this when I was trying on my costume pieces,  still no hair or makeup yet.  It's the only photo that shows the boots though, so I had to add it, those are a Vanessa trademark!  

Shout out to our pretty Lady Vampire and Blond Belle.  Belle was going to be Rapunzel post haircut, pre hair turning brown, but she changed her mind last minute, hence enjoying the benefits of a well stocked Princess costume box!  

My Florida

My life in beautiful Florida has been bittersweet.  Mixed with crystal blue-green water and sparkling, powder white sand, are the tumultuous feelings of too many goodbyes for our family.  This is the place where we had to learn that being an eternal family doesn't mean you always get to be together.  

Are you tired of reading about the woes of deployments?  What a coincidence!  So am I.  Sadly being tired of something doesn't entitle me to a break.  There are many positives that come with military life.  Rest for the weary however, isn't among them.  The country needs fighters - strong soldiers and families who can do more with less.  With the current financial situation, they work longer hours with less sleep, travel further with shorter periods home, complete missions with smaller teams, and as families, stay together without actually being together very often.  Typically those who risk the most, and have the most dangerous jobs with the highest mortality rate, have some of the lowest salaries and are away the very longest.  I don't know why it has to be like that, but it is.  

Florida has taught me that physically, we do have to let go, and often.  However with patience and slow but steady growth, I've learned those goodbyes are temporary.  We are an eternal family, we made promises in one of God's holy temples, and were blessed that living up to those promises means the bonds of marriage and family will never break.  After all those goodbyes, I know, never doubting, that we will always be reunited.  He will always come home.  And if that worst of all fears happens, and the dearest cost of war touches our family, one day I will come home to him.  No goodbye is final, no separation permanent.  Sometimes the happiness we have together seems brief, but I know I'll have it again.

My mother warned me of possible perils of looking only towards homecomings, and forgetting to live in between.  She is wise and so I have tried to stay happy both when our family is all together and when it is not.  However any of you who have experienced something like this know, that while you continue on with your life, and keep smiling, moving, and living day by day, you're still secretly, acutely aware of that calendar.

If you find this difficult to understand, imagine going without something you love, and use everyday.  Take daily hot showers, for example.  For reasons you don't want, like, or completely understand, you have been told you will not be allowed to shower for a period of four months.  Imagine how that last week of showers before the moratorium begins will mean to you.  Imagine how you'd feel if you were interrupted during those last few showers, or for some reason had to shorten a few of them.  Then imagine that first morning where you crawled out of your warm bed into the chilly morning, and then couldn't go take one.  All day you'd try not to think about it, but you'd be keenly aware of your oily hair, a bit self conscious of your smell, and would probably feel like you were holding up a sign that said, "Yes, it's true, I didn't shower today!"

Now add time to our little example.  As time continues, a part of you would adjust to the change in daily habit.  However do you think there will ever be a day where you can completely forget that you haven't had a shower in days, weeks, or months?  Do you think you'd be able to avoid thinking about that first blissful moment when showers are a part of your life again?  Add to that the complication that you cannot shower or bathe your children either.  Everywhere you go you'd feel like "the stinky family", and in all your misery, you'd have the additional challenge of keeping your kids happy, despite reminding them they still can't play with rubber duckies.  You'd have to listen to them cry about how much they miss bubbles, and splashing warm water at the end of a long day.  How about all those clean people around you, who feel they should give you regular advice about how to not think about showers?  Some of them will even put on sympathetic faces, and oh-so-sweetly say that considering everything you've gone through, you really don't smell that bad.  And because you are a kind, polite person, you're supposed to show genuine gratitude towards those well scrubbed friends with all the advice.

I bet just reading that makes you want to go shower again today!  Me too.    

Oh my sweet, beautiful, Florida, how much I have learned, grown, and changed while strolling your shores!  I don't know how much longer we'll be together, and though not all of our memories are happy, I am at least grateful for the beauty, experience, and wisdom you have given me.  If I could pause time, where my babies are young and sweet, and my husband is home and we are all together, I'd choose that perfect moment to be here, with you!  

Sadly I cannot freeze time for us.  But of all the places to be both happy and sad, it's pretty easy to say this is the best one.  And while I cannot actually live that wonderful frozen moment, thanks to my talented friend, Kaycee, we can at least know what that moment would look like!  Looking at it isn't the same as living it, but it's close.

Make a video - it's fun, easy and free!
www.onetruemedia.com

And to my constant and forever best friend, remember we'll always be at home waiting, loving, and smiling thinking of you, no matter how often you have to leave, or wherever you go.    

But What About the Children?

When I was a little girl, frequently anything my parents tried to teach me I followed with the question, "But what about the children?"

Whether the lesson be about a scripture story, something in history, or math facts, I somehow brought the subject around to that question.  Obviously it didn't always relate to what we were talking about, but it was none-the-less the question always on my mind.  I felt strongly then as I do now, that children mattered in everything we do.  I am not alone in that idea.

While building the Soviet Union, leaders knew and understood the power of raising a generation of children indoctrinated in communist ways.  Their little ones were not pushed aside, or seen as insignificant and of little use.  They were an important tool in spreading their propaganda and beliefs.

Historian Orlando Figes, in his book, The Whisperers: Private Life in Stalin's Russia, gives this quote from a Soviet Schooling Theorist about the children during communist rule:

"We must make the young into a generation of Communists.  Children, like soft wax, are very malleable and they should be moulded into good Communists... We must rescue children from the harmful influence of the family... We must nationalize them.  From the earliest days of their little lives, they must find themselves under the beneficient influence of Communist schools... To oblige the mother to give her child to the Soviet state -- that is our task."

They sought out a complete break from the family, promoting loyalty to the community, to the group, to the mass.  There are records of children who were praised as great examples because they betrayed their own parents to the secret police.  For one reason or another, if students stood out socially,  they were bullied or even expelled, all for the benefit of the group and the community. They suppressed any and all religion, and wiped out ideas of individualism, free thinking, or self expression.  Power to the group, power to the whole! The common man was united as one.  

We as a people, as citizens of the United States of America, claim to emphatically stand against this way of life.  We claim to celebrate differences, we promise to be open, tolerant, respectful, and free.

Yet I find those promises to be empty, especially when it comes to teaching our very young.  My daughter's school recently participated in a "Boosterthon Pep Rally".  Admittedly, I did not go, and neither did she.  For the first time, I found myself grateful for a cold virus that kept her from school that day.  Knowing what a Boosterthon and Pep Rally are, I can quickly draw my own conclusions as to what it was about.  Despite being heavily taxed for public education, the school still finds itself lacking in funds.  So who do they turn to to raise them?  Their students.

I was taught to ask for money regretfully, privately, with humble gratitude, and only when truly in the greatest of need.  But why go that route, when you have at your disposal over 800 children ages 5-7, who, like soft wax, are very malleable, and will do the dirty work for you?  In fact, lets gather these little ones together, and get them yelling, screaming, and excited about asking for money!  Rather than quietly sending a letter home to parents, explaining the need for a little extra, respectfully requesting private donations towards a good cause, we are igniting our children, with fire and excitement, to parade out into open, and demand the money!

The motto for my daughter's school is "Reach for the Stars!"  However rather than spend more time teaching them to work hard, dedicate themselves to their studies, and reach for high goals of educational achievement, they are dedicating precious learning time to encourage them to reach with open, demanding hands, for money that is not theirs, from those who have already given enough.  Power to the group, power to the whole, united as one, they will reach.

Can you picture this gross scene?  Our babies, hundreds of tiny, sweet, innocent faces, jumping up and down, cheering, yelling, excited, and thrilled to get out there and ask for money, no doubt chanting their school motto, "Reach for the Stars! Reach for the Stars!  Reach for the Stars!"  

One of the activities for the Boosterthon is a "Fun Run", where every lap each child runs earns money for the school.  Again, it's being held during precious school hours, in substitute of learning and education.  I'm not opposed to physical activity among children, or Fun Runs in general.  It's the sacrifice of learning time, and motivation used that makes me cringe, shoved upon so many little ones, who are naturally eager to please at any cost.  Some of the money is going towards new playground equipment.  You're kidding yourself if you think the faculty and staff wont say to those tired little feet to keep going, or they wont get their playground.  I can hear the motivational cheering now:

• I know you're tired, but if you don't run more, you'll have nothing to play on!!  
• If you really cared about that playground, you'd go another lap.  
• Look at little Billy!  See him, and how much he is running?  He must really care about his school! Go Billy go!  
• Just one more lap! You can do it, reach of the stars!!!!
• Come on kids, we're a team!!!!  

Am I the only one who shudders at this?  Am I alone in seeing the obvious similarities to the schools of Stalin?  How is that "Fun Run" any different from child labor?  We are pushing the children with physical labor, threatening them with something that is dear to them if they do not comply.  They will be belittled, put down, and marked as "not a team player" if they slow down, or stop earlier than their classmates.  The teachers are pressured to comply too, with competitions and rewards for classes who can earn the most money, and promises of percentages of what is earned going to each class.  The teachers are no doubt told,

• If you want more for your students, you'll encourage them to participate   
• If you need books, supplies, and computers to enrich your classroom, you'll push them to run! 
• If you care, this is what you'll do.       

I am not morally opposed to general fundraising.  However, I believe there is an appropriate method for asking for donations.  This is not it.  Where is the modesty, the humility that should be accompanied with a request for money?  Small businesses who are taking enormous hits from the economy at this time, as well as parents who already sacrifice funds, time, and resources to their children's education, are the ones being appealed to to donate.  Shouldn't that be done a little more sensitively?  Instead it has become a loud manipulative circus, all in the name of teamwork, and with the voices and actions of 1600 tiny feet and open, reaching, hands.

I am surrounded by conservative friends who boldly put Vote For Romeny signs in their yards, cheer him on in debates, and unapologetically post on Facebook their conservative thoughts and opinions.  And yet I seem to be the only one concerned about this blatantly communist behavior going on at school.  I haven't heard a word of criticism or disapproval for this.  When do your actions back up your words?  When will you start matching conservative voting with conservative choices?  When will you realize your choice not to act is affecting those you should be protecting and caring about most?  What about the children???  

Translated, the poster reads, "Join the pre-school movement- Build a new life - Organize kindergartens and playgrounds - Educate a new Communist generation"

 
How, you ask, am I demonstrating my own actions behind my words?  By protecting my child.  I am not so brazen as to picket the school with signs, or write a nasty letter to the principal.  After all, my little girl is in the first grade, and I know we'll have many more battles to fight.  I need to pace myself accordingly.  However I will not subject her to this.  I will not put a cute, cheerleader face on for this activity, join the parents in the crowd, and demand money from our community for every lap those little feet can manage.  I refuse to watch my baby be manipulated and washed up in the hype.  For family reasons, we will quietly stay home during this event.  Follow our example, if you dare.  Or stand up in your own way.  But please, consider your children.  Put your actions where your vote is.  Conservative beliefs don't just come into play on voting day.  It is a way of life, one I don't mind living alone if I have to.  I know I'm probably not making any friends by writing this.  However I was raised, by my parents and despite many of my teachers I might add, that standing up for your values, even if it means standing alone or being different, is not a bad thing.

Soviot Propaganda Poster originally copied from here.    

A Dangerous Secret

I admire secret keepers.  Probably because I'm not one.  Don't get me wrong, if you tell me something in confidence, you can trust me not to pass it on, especially if it's personal and private.  That's different though.  I don't consider closed conversations the same as "telling a secret".  Neither are hurtful stories about someone else "secrets".  That's gossip, which I make sincere efforts to stay away from.  I'm also not referring to crucial information that endangers others if shared.  That falls under the category of "Top Secret".

A secret is something that isn't completely secret.  It's "I know something that you don't", said with a sparkle in your eye, a little wink, sly smile, or silly snicker.  The first thing someone does with a true secret, is spread around word that she has it.  A secret is something that can be shared, and wants to be shared, but wont be.

Examples of Secrets 

surprise parties

delicious recipes

special gifts

magicians tricks

the ending of a movie or book

There are more I'm sure, but those are a few that come to mind right now.  Secrets are fun.  They don't hurt anybody, and are light at heart.  I can't be trusted with them.  Secrets burn inside me, like little rays of sunshine ready to burst out at any second.  I just don't like keeping great things to myself!  I probably wont give away the ending of a book or movie, because I don't want to ruin the reading or viewing experience, but I'll be dying to talk to you about it, and will let you know that under no uncertain terms.  I also wont spoil a surprise party (assuming I can get there on time- always a risk for me!) but I'll be very excited, and will probably have to keep my distance from the surprise-ee for a week or so prior, knowing I'm not cool enough to keep from grinning ear to ear everytime I see her, or asking stupid questions, such as:

"So, I heard it's your birthday on Friday, I forget where I heard that.  Have any big plans that night?  Why do I ask?  Oh, no reason.  [more silly grinning] Just . . . wonderin' . . ." 

I know.  Nerd.  Can't help it- it's in the blood.  Acting cool has and never will be something I do.

Another reason I struggle with secrets, is I love good news!  I love it, and I have to share it!!!  Everything great and wonderful I know and love, I want everyone else to know and love too!!  That's one reason why I keep this blog.  I have things I want to share, but don't have much opportunity to as a busy stay-at-home-mom.  My circle of day-to-day contacts is pretty small.  My blog is my outlet, where I can practice my composition skills, and remind myself that I know things worthy to contribute to the outside world.  Truly, I have no secrets.  Everything that makes me happy and has formed my life, I want the world to know.  I want everyone to know, so anyone can have the same happiness.

So- what's my secret tonight, you ask?  The chocolate chip cookie- perfected.  If I was cool, I'd just bring a plate of these to various church functions and friendly gatherings, and allow people to marvel at how amazing my cookies are.  When asked what I do to make them so incredible, I'd just smile, wink, and say, "It's a secret!"

Of course that will never happen.  I'm an uncool person with no secrets, and a desire to share the wealth!  (My wealth anyway, at my own will and discretion.  Not to be confused with crazy liberals currently in office who want to share everyone else's wealth, unwisely and without their permission! Vote for Romney in November!!!)    

I have already shared this once.  As soon as I made my first batch, I posted a picture on facebook.  Sometimes life is too sweet not to share- and this was literally the case.  So now I'm adding this to my blog, and then to Pinterest!  The world can and should know about these cookies; these yummy, addicting, dangerously delicious, cookies.

      
 

Homemade Chocolate-Toffee Cookies

For this first batch shown in the picture, I chopped up a bar of Belgian chocolate, but that was a bit labor intensive, so since then I've used dark chocolate chips.  Truly, this is your basic chocolate chip cookie recipe, with a bag of Heath bits dumped in with the chocolate chips.  But to be thorough, here's my exact recipe.  

Ingredients

1/2 cup butter flavored shortening

1/2 cup softened butter (1 stick)

3/4 cup white sugar

3/4 cup brown sugar

1 tsp vanilla

2 eggs

1 tsp salt

1 tsp baking soda

2 1/4 cups flour

1 bag Hershey's Special Dark Chocolate Chips

1 bag Heath Bits 'O Brickle Toffee Bits

Preheat oven at 375 deg. F.  Cream shortening, butter, and sugars together in mixer.  Add vanilla, and eggs, one at a time.  Add salt and baking soda.  Add  flour, in approximately half cup increments, mixing until smooth each time.  Dump in toffee bits and chocolate chips, and stir with a spoon or spatula.  Spoon heaping tablespoons onto cookie sheet lined with parchment paper***, (I have one of those cool cookie-dough scoops, that looks like a mini-ice cream scoop spoon) and bake for 9-11 minutes, depending on your oven.  Cool for 1-2 minutes on cookie sheet, then move to cooling rack with spatula.

***I know the parchment paper thing seems a tad persnickety, but the melted toffee bits will stick to your cookie sheet, you'll be grateful you used the paper, trust me.  

The toffee bits for the most part melt into the cookie, giving it a very satisfying, chewy texture, and extra sweetness, countered by the bitterness in the dark chocolate.  I love them.  If I wasn't already married, yes, I would, indeed, marry them.  But I am married.  So I eat them with my husband, and if we're feeling especially generous, we share them with our kids.  Sometimes, however, I will admit when they have asked, we have let slip the phrase, "Much too good for children."

10 points if you can guess that movie quote.  It's one of our favorites.  If no one can guess I'll have to post it.  I just can't keep a secret.

Today, I'm Wonder Woman!

Why am I'm I giving myself this super-human title?  Because I made my own Greek Yogurt!  I can't even eat it, (I have a dairy allergy) and yet I managed to make that thick, creamy white stuff that has become so popular lately.  There are lots of blog entries about how to make your own Greek Yogurt from scratch.  I read a lot of them, and after a couple batches, found I don't agree with any of them completely.  I took bits and pieces from many, and came up with my own preferred method, which I now feel inclined to share.

Let me begin with a little motivation!  There are many impressive women out there, who make homemade everything in their kitchens.  Homemade bread, homemade butter, homegrown herbs, canned soup, vegetables, fruit . . . and the list goes on.  I even have a friend who makes her own honey!  While I am slowly learning a few new skills, I am not one of those extraordinary women.  I'd like to think I'm pretty average when it comes to my homemaking skills in the kitchen.  I make satisfactory cookies from scratch, I google for new recipes, I've made freezer jam.  However I also buy frozen dinner rolls, canned pie filling, cake and brownie mixes, and I've never grown my own vegetable garden.  I am not the type to make my own dairy products.  So if I can manage this, so you can you!

Another point of motivation- the price of Greek Yogurt.  Unless money ain't nothin' but a thang, you've noticed it's pricey.  Typically a 6 oz cup is just over a dollar.  With 3 kids eating 1 cup each a day with breakfast or lunch, that adds up quickly!  When I make my own, it breaks down to $0.32 for a 6oz cup.  My DH is actually quite proud of me for doing that math.  Not that he doubted my computation skills, more my interest in a budgeting detail like that.  Let's just say he's the "saver" in our family.  I got major brownie points for this new frugal discovery!!  

Have I convinced you to try?  Excellent.  Scroll on for my very first "how to" entry on my nerdy blog.  Please forgive the lack of "cuteness" in my pictures.  Unlike seemingly everyone on Pinterest, I'm not a food photographer.

How To Make Your Own Greek Yogurt

You can half this recipe easily if you want less yogurt, but we go through it so quickly, that I need to make the larger amount.  If you want your milk to incubate overnight, begin the process approximately 2 hours before you want to go to bed.  After giving it 10-12 hours to incubate (I do 12) you need about 20 minutes prep in the morning, and then can leave it for 6+ hours to strain in the fridge. 

Ingredients/Tools

1 gal of milk
6 oz of plain yogurt, with live cultures
crockpot
crockpot liner
2 thick bath towels
meat thermometer
large strainer
big bowl, large enough to fit under your strainer
thin cotton/linen dish towel
rubber band
toppings of choice

Step 1: Heat your Milk to 180 degrees

To break down the milk particles so it can become yogurt, you first need to heat the milk.  I first tried this in a crockpot.  What a waste of time!  I heated it on "low" for 3 hours, and then cooled it for 3 hours.  Silly.  The second time I heated it on the stove.  That only took 20 minutes.  Despite careful efforts and keeping the heat on medium, I still ended up scorching my milk a little.  It didn't seem to effect the process, but still next time I think I will try the microwave.  However you choose to heat your milk, make sure it just reaches 180 degrees.  While my milk was heating, I preheated my crockpot on low, and added the plastic liner.  
Update: I tried the  microwave, and it worked well.  It took approx. 17 min. for the milk to reach 180 deg.

Step 2: Cool Milk

Allow your milk to cool to somewhere between 110-120 degrees.  I set my pot on a cooling rack, and it took just under an hour to cool.  If the milk is too hot, it will kill the cultures in the yogurt, so I do recommend you use a thermometer to check.  While milk is cooling, unplug your crockpot, but wrap it in your two thick bath towels to keep it warm.  At this point, I also measured out 6 oz of yogurt, and put it in a medium sized bowl.  I let it sit at room temperature while the milk was cooling.  This allows the cultures to warm a bit.  

Step 3: Pour Milk into Crockpot, and Check Temp. 

Remove the towels, and pour the milk into the warm crockpot.  After a couple minutes, check the temperature again, making sure it hasn't risen above 120.  If it has, let it cool a bit until it's in that 110-120 range again.

Step 4: Add the Yogurt

Take 2 cups of your milk, and add it to your bowl of yogurt.  Stir together, and then pour mixture into crockpot.  Stir to spread the cultures.  Replace lid on crockpot, and wrap with bath towels.  Allow to incubate for 10-12 hours.  During this time, that healthy, live bacteria from the yogurt you added is turning the rest of your milk into yogurt.  You don't need to check on it.  Removing the towels will also remove heat, and you want to keep the milk warm so those cultures can spread and do their thing.

Step 5: Wow, I made Yogurt!

Some blogs claim 8 hours is enough to wake up to thick, smooth, yogurt, but I always need the full 12.  After just 8 my mixture is still kind of runny.  Anyway, you should find your milk is now thick and smooth, the consistency of regular, all American yogurt.  It may have a clear, runny fluid on top, that's ok.  That's whey, we'll talk about that in the next step.  All you have left is changing your yogurt's ethnicity from American to Greek!

Step 6: Pour Yogurt into your Strainer

This is where you'll thank me for using a crockpot liner!  Line your strainer with your towel, and set it in the sink.  Gently lift the bag out of your crockpot, and hold it over the strainer.  Cut a hole in your bag with kitchen sheers, and the yogurt will pour into the strainer, virtually mess free.  You wont even have to wash your crockpot, which is awesome, because I hate washing my crockpot.

Step 7: Straining

The towel, before I added the yogurt

This step gave me the most difficulty the first time I gave this a try.  This is what makes the yogurt "Greek", and is why it's so expensive.  Greek Yogurt is just regular yogurt, strained of the "whey".  The whey is a cloudy-clear liquid, that gives yogurt it's tangy flavor.  Without it you have a more mild tasting, thicker, creamier product.  The straining makes the yogurt condense to half it's original volume, so what you're buying has twice the calories, protein, and nutrients of regular yogurt.  It took me some time to decide my favorite method of straining.  Some use a few layers of cheese cloth in a strainer, others prefer to line it with paper towels.  One lady recommended a fancy $70 industrial fine mesh strainer.  I'm sure it's a very cool strainer, but my goal is to save $.  I found one blog where someone used a thin cotton towel.  I actually have one very similar to hers, it was from a sweet friend who decorated it with fabric markers, and presented it to me as my very first "dishwasher".  I think of her every time I see it.  If you don't have a thin linen or cotton towel like this, you can use cotton fabric, or even a pillowcase or cut sheet with a low thread count should work.  Just make sure it's been washed, and isn't so old/used that it's fuzzy, and will get lint in your yogurt!

I gather the ends of my towel, and make a sort of yogurt "pouch".  I twist them at the top, and try to squeeze out some of the whey. 

Then I fasten off the ends with a rubber band, place my "pouch" back in the strainer, put the strainer over a big bowl, and place the whole thing in the fridge.  I like my yogurt very thick, because adding toppings thins it out again just a bit.  I let it strain for up to 6 hours.  You wont hurt it letting it sit longer than that, so feel free to leave it while you're at work, out doing errands, etc.  If you are at home though, I would recommend periodically emptying the bowl of the collected whey.

whey that has collected in my bowl during straining

Step 8: Pat Yourself on the Back, and add tasty toppings!

Once your yogurt has reached a thick consistency you're happy with, you're done!  Just scrape it into a bowl or jar.  My yogurt tends to be thick enough, that most of it just rolls right out of the towel and into my bowl.  I scrape off the little bit that is left behind with a spatula, and then toss my towel into the washing machine.  The yogurt should be good for 7-10 days in your refrigerator.  Some recommend stirring it a bit to make it smooth.  I've never felt like it needed that, but go for it if you want to.  As for flavorings, you're limited only by your imagination.  We like honey, strawberry syrup, caramel, and cream of coconut.  My husband has requested a little homemade granola with his when he comes home and gives my new concoction a try!

 For your next batch, if you remember to save 6 oz, then you do not need to keep buying regular yogurt from the store.  You can continue to use 6 oz from each previous batch for the new one.  I would recommend saving this separately from the start, because too often all the yogurt disappears before I remember to set some aside!

Anny and Merrylee enjoying my latest batch, with cream of coconut!   

Please let me know if you have any frustrations or questions.  It's been a learning process for me, and it's possible I might be able to help you figure out what didn't work if you're having trouble.  Good luck!  If you try it and it works well, please leave a comment and tell me about it!