How Do You Meal Plan?

It seems as though I'm in a confessing type mood lately, so here is another confession:

I am horrible at meal planning.

We are often a very fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants type eaters, and this means we probably don't eat the best. I'm putting the word "probably" in there just to make myself feel better. I often don't shop ahead, I'm often scrambling to find something...anything...even if it's just something frozen in the freezer like pizza rolls or corn dogs or sometimes it's eggs, bacon, and biscuits. And I just hate that.

If I do, by some miracle, plan ahead, it's certainly not very exciting. I remember one time blogging about my best dinner being a Shake n Bake Chicken Parmesan. Yes. That's right. I admit it. I use Shake n Bake!

So I'm asking for advice - anything - that would help me in being a better meal planner. Maybe it's a website you've found. Tell me! Maybe you use a calendar and plan by the week, bi-weekly, or monthly. I would love to hear about it! What are your most favorite recipes that don't require a lot of strange ingredients?

I need your help!

Is this what you do? And how many options do you have?

Wordless Wednesday

How I memorize. August 7, 2011.

I Don't Read

It’s pretty much a running joke between me and my friend Maegan that I don’t read. The other day she posted something on her facebook page about placing an order with Amazon, and I responded, “I understand the excitement…because they sell more than just books!” Some of my friends who are writers have said things like, “But you seem to have a knack for writing. That usually comes from someone who likes to read.” I guess I’m an odd one.

So I’m confessing on my blog: I don’t read. It’s not that I don’t wish that I could curl up with a blanket and a book, a café mocha on my end table, a novel in hand that a friend suggested. I wish I could be that person who loads up books with them on their vacation. The ones who say sitting on the beach with a book is a part of their relaxation time. I just can’t.

And it’s mostly because I’m a slow reader.

Picture yourself reading out loud to your children at bed time. You know…that pace. You read each word clearly, at a pace that they can understand. For whatever reason, that’s about the pace that my brain processes it when I’m reading to myself. I find it interesting that I did rather well in school, was in the upper reading classes when they had those in elementary school, made all A’s until probably 8th grade science, graduated from high school with a 3.5 if I recall correctly. College level courses are the ones that hit me the hardest! My pace for reading most certainly affected my ability to focus on the massive material I had to cover.

It just takes a really long time for me to get through a book. I guess it’s embarrassing in a way to even say any of this. But perhaps this is an indication of my high intelligence. Right?! Like when I’ve read quotes about certain geniuses being bad in school. It just means I’m a genius.

Or something like that.

This also determines which blogs I read. I tend to write short posts because I usually only read blogs who post short entries. If I have to keep scrolling and scrolling to read it, especially if the font is size 10 or something, you’ve lost me! I like short, direct posts that have me smiling, enlighten me on a subject, or share a life experience. The more wordy blogs are just not for me.

I can count on one hand the books I’ve read in their entirety. It’s sad, I know. I just can’t make it through them.

Does your pace of reading determine your like/dislike for recreational reading?

Happy Birthday, Caleb!

Today my first born turns seven. What sappy things can I say that haven't already been said? Oh, I can probably come up with several! With each new year brings new happenings in his life and sometimes even new character traits.

In less than a week, he will enter 1st grade. I think I'm still trying to process that he's school-aged. As he celebrated the end of kindergarten last spring, I remember thinking that time is going far too quickly. I feel as though I'm watching this little boy turn into a young man right before my eyes, and I recognize the huge responsibility that I have.















He is creative and has a sweet spirit. He is sometimes silly and witty, and it makes me smile. He has a strong will, and I embrace it and direct it, not stifle it. He is a very good big brother, even though he does irritate his little sister and little brother from time to time!












I love him more than words can say. He gives the best hugs. He notices when I get my hair cut or when I'm wearing a new shirt. He is a good reader, and his report card made my heart happy when it said, "Caleb is a good writer!"

When he does school work, more often than not he remembers his family first:




And today...he turns seven.



Happy 7th birthday, Caleb! You make me so proud in so many ways!

The Life Jacket

One summer day, as I watched Gabriel swim with his life jacket on - so fearless, so brave, so care free - I also noticed that perhaps he had a bit of overconfidence. I'm not sure how I realized it, call it a mother's instinct. Somehow I just knew.

He thought he was swimming on his own.


















It was as if a life lesson was just being demonstrated right before my eyes. When Gabriel began to mess with the buckles on his life jacket, in a way that I knew he didn't want to wear it anymore, I decided to go ahead and let him take it off. I placed the jacket aside, and I held on to him as we played in the water.

But that's not what he wanted. He didn't want to be guided with my help. He didn't want to wear the one thing that would keep him afloat.

So very briefly I let go, and very quickly he went under the water. I grabbed him and said, "See, sweetie, I can't let go or you'll sink!" Surprisingly, he wanted me to let go again, he was so sure that he could swim on his own!

It dawned on me that I do the same thing.

How often do I push God aside? How often do I think, "Don't worry. I've got this." And I wonder what it's like for Him to just watch me sink, knowing He's right there and I've let go. I wonder what He thinks when He pulls me up, and I want to let go again, just like Gabriel did.














"In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD establishes his steps." Proverbs 16:9



I am thankful for the visual that day. It was so clear to me that I even had tears for a moment, right there at the water park.





I need to stop taking off my life jacket.

Wordless Wednesday - Parasailing

Parasailing in Key West, July 19, 2011.

An Earring Fiasco

It was a gorgeous day in May of 2007, Sarah was just nine months old, and I decided (with prompting from my best friend) to get her ears pierced. It wasn't as if I didn't want to anyway. I had considered making it a 1st birthday endeavor, but when you're with a friend at a mall with your baby girl and see a Claire's, it's just too hard to resist!

And since my sweet girl was basically bald, I thought this would give her a distinct GIRL look, even when no bows were in her hair and even when she wasn't wearing pink.











She didn't even cry. She never bothered them as a baby and as she grew into a toddler, it was just as if they were a part of her. I always kept them in her ears, and I always chose tiny studs for her to wear. Nothing gaudy, always something cute and simple. It seemed to fit her just perfect.

So imagine my dismay when I called my mom one day during my kid-free vacation, and she proceeded to tell me that Sarah had somehow hit her ear and shoved her earring into her earlobe. I just couldn't understand it at all. It was definitely something I had to see to believe (or see to comprehend might be more accurate). According to Sarah's version, she was playing with Caleb and hit her ear on a door. It pushed the stud of her earring through the hole, so much so that when my mom tried to push it forward or backward, it would not come out.

When I arrived home, I also tried to get it out without any luck. With my mom and mother-in-law's encouragment (yeah, you know what that means) I called and made an appointment for her to see a doctor. It's not that I didn't recognize that this was pretty much my only option, it just seemed so ridiculous that it had come to that. But really, what else could we do?

I was at work when Josh took her to the doctor to see what could be done. Her peditrician was off that day, so she saw the FNP. Evidently it wasn't just the FNP who took a look, a student and three other nurses came in as well, and none of them could do anything. Sarah was then referred to a surgeon in town, and when I got that text from Josh, it made me a little emotional. I knew it wasn't a big deal, but I was just having a mom moment...because...

Sarah didn't want to wear those earrings the day I put them in her ears.

After I got a grip, I told Josh to just keep me posted.

She did fine.


















The doctor made a tiny incision (very tiny) and was able to get it out. Sarah picked out a cute, colorful beanie baby from their treasure chest, and she takes it with her everywhere we go.

I'm not sure if she'll be wearing earrings again any time soon. I do hope she'll let me put some in her ears again one of these days. And I learned my lesson: no teeny tiny studs, maybe something with a little more substance!