Getting Messy

Life with toddlers is often messy.  I can't walk across a room in my house without a Cheerio sticking to my heel or a crayon snapping beneath my feet.  Children are a package deal - with a trail of crumbs and sticky fingers that accompany their adorableness.  Yes, I'm constantly in awe of how my girls can take a perfectly tidy room and destroy it into a toyland of smithereens within a lapse of five minutes...or, however long it takes me to step away and prepare their breakfast.

But, the joys of having two kids so close together abound when it comes to activities.  Because they are only 20 months apart, I don't really have to worry about entertaining them each at their own level (slightly, at times, but not significantly) as they can share in the same craft or game or story time.

The other day, I (amidst the chaos) decided we would make muffins...as a team...as a project...together.  This seemed like a simple enough idea in the moment because (against the purist foodie that I am in my heart) I had recently purchased some easy "just add milk" muffin mixes.  Simple enough:  bowl, mix, milk, stir, bake, and voila!  Muffins!

I think it was by the third lick of the whisk that I realized my girls were going to be devouring these muffins all by themselves.  Batter was flinging about, and their JOY in the creation of it wasn't just due to their participation - but in the sheer mess of it!

I stepped back.  Hands off.  And I soaked up the image of their smiling faces, four little feet planted side-by-side on a chair, two swirling whisks splattering batter about, and I calmly stepped back into the scene and tried to reign in their fun towards a productive action.

You know what I mean - we all want to be fun and effective parents!  It's hard to walk the line of patient and frustrated.  I don't want to squash their little spirits - but, I don't want to be scrubbing muffin mix out of the cracks in my kitchen for years to come either!

The truth of the matter is, in order for them to learn and have fun...it's just going to be messy.

This is one of those moments where I get a glimpse of how, as a parent-to-a-child, God must view me at times.  He loves me, He wants me to learn and grow and desire Him more, and He wants nothing but blessings and goodness for my life...and here I am, flinging my mess all over the place, stirring up all kinds of trouble in the name of self-interest.  It's not all bad, but too often I can make things much harder on myself (much messier!) when I try to do it my way.

It's true that life is gonna get messy no matter what.  Only Jesus lived a perfect life and even HE didn't have it mess-free! (Far from it!)

What mess are you in the middle of right now?  Can you laugh about it?  Can you get help with it?  Can you hang on just a little longer?

Because often, if I can just embrace the mess and keep my eye on what's to come...well, it just might lead to a delicious ending.

Bad Apple

There are just some people in this world that are difficult to get along with.  No matter who you are, there is someone you've met who grates you the wrong way, and as much as I wish I was immune to that, I'm not.  Everywhere I've lived or worked or wherever I've spent much of my time, there's always been at least one person who's been that "difficult person"that just makes me cringe.

I know, I know, this is shocking!  Okay, maybe not.  I don't think I'm surprising anyone here when I ask:  Can you relate???  Please don't leave me hanging!  Chances are good that by now you have an image of someone in your head.  Someone who annoys you.  Someone who belittles you.  Someone you are jealous of.  Someone who brags all the time.  Someone who won't stop complaining.  Someone who corrects you constantly.  Someone who, for one reason or another (cause, let's face it, the list could go on and on and on) gets under your skin and you just can't "get over" whatever grievances they bring into your life.

Whew.  Deep breaths, deep breaths.

My husband and I call these particular individuals "toxic people".  The worst are the ones who just say something (that you know has absolutely no justifiable reason or validation behind it) and for some extraordinarily frustrating reason I find myself wide awake at night envisioning the stupid scenario over and over again, coming up with bigger and more boisterous comebacks in return that I would never actually ever act out in real life.  I lose sleep over it.  I worry about it.  And I always end up with the same, "ughy" feeling in my guts that brings me to my knees in confession and praying that either my level of compassion and patience would change, or that that person would change (talk about OUT of my control, right?)

Recently, a very dear friend of mine called me out on this.  I was in a safe place, freely venting to this confidant about a particular annoying person I didn't even know very well.  I made a rather snappy remark and judgment, and this friend stopped me in my tracks.  "Emily, what if this person is trying as hard as you are?"

That was all my friend had to say to get me to stop (and turn red) and think about how I was really reacting.  What was I doing?  Who was I?  And...maybe above all...have I been this person to someone else?  I'm sure that I have been!  Yikes!  Yuck!  Has there ever (ever ever ever) been something I've said to someone that has had them up at night plotting their boisterous comebacks at me?!

This thought was sort of disgusting and embarrassing all at once.  For, certainly, I have been the one to misstep and cause pain and bring grievances and annoyances to someone.  I'm human.  I'm annoying.  I'm going to rub someone the wrong way, absolutely.  And, justified or not, the one thing I can do to redeem past wrongs of that sort is to try and try and try again to give someone in my future the grace I wish my past would grant me. 

Sigh.

The other night, I was making homemade apple pie.  Not just homemade, but I mean homemade.  Like, peeling apples, making the crust from actual flour, and full-on zesting lemons and oranges for added flavor, kind of homemade.  That is some serious, hard-core-pioneer-womaning happening, right?  (Can you tell I am proud?)

In the midst of coring, peeling, and slicing the 20 or so (yeah, that took a long time) apples for the pie, a few lessons trickled into my brain.  I had picked out a variety of apples for the pie.  Four different apples, in fact, were going to make up the yumminess of said pie, and each one felt different when I cut into it.  Some had slightly bigger seeds, some were rougher on the outside, some were smooth and juicier.  

Hmm, I thought, some apples are easier to peel than others.

A very simple thought, for a rather simple task.  Then, I thought about all the apples/people I encounter in my life, and just how very true that felt.  Gosh, there are just some people that I cannot peel. Some people that I just cannot understand.  Some people who, no matter if you are the sharpest knife in the drawer, will not give way to letting you see their insides.  And sometimes it will remain that way, impossible to breach beyond the peel and see why someone is the way they are.  

I remembered back to this fall when we took our girls to the apple orchard.  We took a silly hay ride and got a tour of the orchard, hearing its history along with every apple fact you never wished you ever learned.  Nonetheless, I recalled something I learned that day:  They never throw rotten apples away.

What!?  It's true.  They take the rotten apples and turn them into cider.  Better yet, the rotten apples make the best cider.  And, I can attest to that, I had some of that rotten-apple-cider and it was downright delicious!  Who knew!?  I was amazed.

We all have rotten apples in our lives, I thought, as I peeled yet another fruit making its demise into my pie.  Could it be possible that there's to be delicious cider in my future if I just give them a chance?  That was the truth:  Even rotten apples have a purpose in our lives.

You will often hear the expression that "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade" but that one is pretty easy to swallow, if you ask me.  Lemons are useful as is.  Lemons are tart, but tolerable.  And, if you add enough sugar to anything, it's palatable.

Apples are different.  They start off sweet.  They are appealing and wildly popular.  But, when rotten, they are garbage.  And, that's not necessarily the apple's fault!  Maybe it's seen some hard days, or been in the sun too long.  Maybe some kid kicked it to the curb or only took one bite before it got discarded. But, it just might make the best cider in the world.  And, cider requires no added sugar at all.  It's just right the way it is.  All it needed was a little time, a squeeze, and someone willing to wait.

It might not be easy as pie, but this was a lesson I needed to hear.  I'm not perfect.  I'm not surrounded by perfect people.  I'm trying just like all of us are trying and I'm certain to be that rotten apple in someone else's barrel. Here's to making some delicious cider together, my friends!

It might just take some time for this lesson to work its way to my core.  (Like you didn't see that pun coming?)

Meat & Potatoes

The other day, I was at a crossroads.  Perhaps you've been there before.  It was early afternoon and I was just beginning to think about that age old (yet, daily) question:  What's for dinner?  The pickings were slim.  I didn't want to order in (scratch that, I did want to order in, but we really couldn't afford it and I knew I shouldn't cop out of dinner-making one more time that week) and I definitely did not want to load up the girls in the car, unload them, scream and cry our way through a trip around the grocery store, and have to come all the way back home to start cooking.  Ugh, that sounded terrible to me.

So, I faced my cupboards and my fears and decided with all my might to figure out something that could be constructed into an edible excuse for supper.  I sighed as I sifted through my barren pantry, finding a can of this or that.  I yanked out my last pound of meat at the back of the freezer (ground turkey!) and found some frozen peas next to it.  I dug around the bins of my fridge and discovered leftover potatoes that hadn't rotted through yet.  I know, this sounds scary to most of you, but I was so determined to scrape by until payday that I had really let our kitchen become quite meager.  Still, I knew I could pull something together.  Something.

As I surfed the Internet for ideas, it suddenly struck me.  Maybe it was the crisp new chill in the air, but suddenly the need for comfort food hit my belly and mashed potatoes crossed my brain.  Aha - that was it - Shepherd's Pie!  For those of you who may not know, Shepherd's Pie is a sort of an old "peasant" kind of dish, meant for recycling leftovers for people who don't have access to the first round of good food.  It's a layered dish of meat and vegetables topped with mashed potatoes.  Generally, around here anyway, you see it with ground beef, carrots, corn, and peas.  The topping of buttery mashed potatoes is really its selling point, let's be honest here.

Voila!  Shepherd's Pie it was, and as the weather got chillier and our tummies grew hungrier, the better and better it was smelling.  Sure enough, by the time we ate, it was super delicious.  Yay - a hit!  And I was mighty proud that I had scavenged our cabinets and turned our humble means into something quite delectable.  (Great recipe here for those of you wondering!)

It wasn't until hours afterward, with my hunger and dignity satisfied, that it occurred to me what an analogy my day had become.  As I tucked my girls into bed for the night, exhausted from another haphazardly wonder-filled day, it struck me how motherhood is like that silly Shepherd's Pie.

In the day-to-day events, motherhood is such a mess.  It really is.  I must look at the clock about 13 times a day, and I have no idea why except for the fact that it helps confirm one thing to me:  this too shall pass.  I love motherhood.  Sincerely!  I cherish these precious girlies the Lord has blessed me with.  I want nothing more than to be with them, nurture them, engage with them, help guide them.  But, boy oh boy can they press my buttons!  Whew!

The hour-by-hour focus that two little toddlers requires of me is astounding.  At their best, they are talking non-stop, running around, climbing, throwing food or clothes, or trying to leap from furniture.  And at their worst, well, let's just say I've had to clean Play-Doh out of carpets, crayons off of walls, get glue and honey and paint and applesauce out of hair, and keep them from strangling each other with dress up clothes or jewelry.  It's crazy business, let me tell you!  In fact, just today it crossed my mind that, "Hey, God, if even EVE couldn't keep her kids from killing each other, how do you expect me to?!?"  Sometimes I wonder.

The everyday mischief is just like those peas and carrots.  It's just like that freezer burned ground meat or those nearly rotten potatoes.  You line it all up and it looks like nothing but a heap of garbage.  What a mess.

But, you're looking at it all wrong.  There's more to it then that.  (Hold on, I'm gonna go all Karate Kid on you here!)  How many times has an older mother passed by you and your youngins in public and looked at you sweetly, maybe even stopped and said something like "Oh, how wonderful, I remember those days!  Cherish them!"?  Do you think she is remembering the rotten potatoes?  Heavens, no.  She's smelling the Shepherd's Pie.

All these days, these terribly exhausting days of trouble, they are all adding up into a terrific era of our lives.  I just know it.  I can't quite see it, at least, not while I'm in the middle of it and just want to strap my toddler to her highchair so I can please just fold this basket of laundry that's been sitting in my living room for a week!  Please!?  But, I know it's true.

Some days, when the dust settles long enough for the sunlight to beam in just right and my girls are smiling and my brain hits pause just long enough to capture a moment in time that looks better than any Instagram filter ever could...I get a glimpse of the big picture.  I can very nearly imagine myself an old woman trying to recall this very moment.  I can almost smell the memory of the present, though it is happening right in front of me, as if it were decades ago and I'm longing for the sweet innocence of not knowing their futures.  I blink, and their older.  I blink, and I forget it all.  I blink, and suddenly I am back in the throws of the day and just struggling to survive once more.  Peas and carrots, again.

This daily struggle matters.  This mess that we're trying to make sense of, it will make sense before we know it, and all too soon we will be smacking our lips wondering why we ever thought it seemed so terrible.  We don't have to wait until then to believe it will be satisfying.  Take hold of it right now, dig right it, get messy and creative and believe in what you are doing, because before its all over you will want to know that this was part of what makes it great.

You're in the thick of it, mamas.  This is real meat and potatoes kind of life stuff.  Keep up the good work, and savor every second.

Food For Thought

September is here!  And with it, comes much relief that August has passed.  Whew.  August was an unusually busy month for us, and with a husband working in the education system it seemed like every day was leading up to the big back-to-school moment.  But, also (just for kicks) I decided to throw another wrench in the cogs of the Pardy-go-round and undergo another entire month of NOT eating out!

Yes, you might recall that we did this same experiment back in January.  So, I sort of had an idea of what I was getting into (i.e. cooking, cooking, and more cooking).  But, there was a vast difference between this month's experiment and January's:  planning.  Or, lack thereof, I should say.

Yep, this month I entirely winged it.  Not even a shopping list.  Not one item written on the calendar.  Not one meal prepped ahead of time or stored in the freezer.  I just knew that we were going to eat at home - every meal, every day.  That was the goal, anyway.

I'll tell you right off the bat - we each "cheated" once.  My husband really didn't even mean to - he just forgot it was August 1st and simply ate out at lunch the very first day out of sheer habit.  Whoopsie.  Oh well.  As for me, my lack of planning (even though I was planning to not plan - ha!) simply got the best of me.  Halfway through the month, I was out shopping with the girls and noon (and hunger) hit.  We were not nearly done with our errands and they had chomped their way through the snacks I'd brought with us almost as soon as we had left the house.  They were cranky and starving and frankly, I had to weigh my options:  Go all the way back to the house to scrounge around for scraps (as grocery shopping was on the list of our errands to run), or Drive thru Chick-Fil-A and calm our souls and stomachs for and easy ten bucks.

Needless to say, the value of convenience won out that day, and it was totally worth it at the time.  However, the next night when I made an entire roast chicken for $3.20 that fed all of us for the next two nights...it struck me just how completely insane it is that I paid twice as much for one meal for one person.  Crazy.

We all know that eating at home is cheaper and generally healthier.  It does take extra time and effort, usually, and as a person without a dishwasher, I can genuinely say that it doesn't always feel worth it.  But, after the dishes are done and the oven has cooled and our tummies are full of delicious foods I slaved over...it helps me refocus on why we are even eating in the first place.

Yes, we have some bananas!

Food is fuel.  We know this.  It gives us energy to burn and calories to keep our bodies functioning properly.  But, I think we can almost all agree that food is so much more than that.  Food is family-time.  Food is friendship-building.  Food is rewarding and creative and inspiring and, at times, even nostalgic or romantic.

So often we think of food as just something we put in front of us to enjoy and devour and get us through the day.  But really, food has the power to give power to whatever you put in front of it.

You put a couple of cranky kids in front of one cookie...you will start an argument.  You put an amorous couple in front of one cookie...you will spark romance.  You put a whole family (and a little creativity) in front of one cookie...you might trigger a game.  You put a dieter in front of one cookie...you fuel will power (or potential guilt).

You see what I'm saying here.  Food can ignite emotions in us if we spend the time to evaluate and appreciate it.

Sure, I do these silly family experiments (i.e. giving up Target for a year or whatever) to save us money, or be healthier, but it also helps us regain our values and refocus our energy to what we truly deem important.  When we eat out, I find myself assigning value to convenience (sometimes very valid - as it was on the shopping day!) or because it saves me energy or dishes or sanity.  But, when I just eliminate the option for a chunk of time (and, a month quickly feels like an eternity when you are cooking this much!) I suddenly feel myself empowered to be able to make it happen.  I do have the energy.  I do have the time.  I do have the creativity and resources and ability.  I do because, if I don't...we don't eat!

Not planning ahead was super difficult this month.  Many (many) nights it felt like I was starring in an episode of Chopped on the Food Network.  (You know, that show where they open a basket of unknown/surprise ingredients and have to somehow make a meal using it all!?)  I would look in my cupboards and fridge and just Tim-Gunn-it into something edible (that is, I would just have to "Make it work!")

Okay, let's see, we got some leftover roast chicken, a can of tomatoes, some olive oil, a clove of garlic, half a pack of rotini, I got some basil in the garden, maybe that spinach is still good....and....GO!" 

It is a cooking challenge, no doubt.  And, with two little kids, it's not like I could up and run to the grocery store every day either.  I just had to work with what I had, be willing to bake from scratch or take a risk or try a recipe that I googled...and keep some cereal on back-up just in case.

I wanted to try to go a month without eating out and without planning this month for one major reason:  to show you that you can do it too.  You can!  Stop rolling your eyes.  Maybe you don't need to.  Maybe you hate the idea.  But, you could do it, seriously.  You might not need to save the money or eat healthier or even spend extra time with your family (and if those are all true, please - tell me your secret!) but, maybe you just want to try something to spice up your usual routine and challenge yourself to see just what your food is empowering you to do.

Watermelon, fueling some silliness

Is your lunch fueling your frustration in getting your kids fed before nap time?  Is your supper triggering you to turn on the tv and avoid conversations about how your day really was?  Is your afternoon snack comforting you so you can just make it a few more hours before daddy gets home to help??

Sometimes it helps me to just stop, take a step back, and evaluate why I do what I'm doing.  We eat every day, and several times a day for that matter.  Food is part of our lives and can set the tone for how we treat ourselves and others around us.  Are we rushing around, being thoughtless and cheap and valuing convenience as our highest priority?  Or, are we willing to take time, maybe get a little messy, take a few risks, and be intentional about what we are really fueling in our homes?

(Am I talking about food or relationships here is the real question?)

I love restaurants.  I love eating out and appreciating how others can cook (not to mention, clean up!) the foods my family enjoys.  But, having these months of "time-out from going out" has been a great way for me to realign what I truly value for my family (plus, it's like a boot camp for my cooking skills).  Sure, it saved us money and calories; but more than anything, this experiment fed my family a new perspective for appreciating time with each other.  And that's something I hope we are always hungry for.

Eat Your Heart Out

Thankful Friday is here! As January came to a close this week, so did something else. I completed a "challenge" I set out for our family. A challenge that I've kept relatively silent about because, frankly, I was genuinely unsure if I could complete it...and, well, I didn't want to fail with an audience. But, I'm proud to now report that I absolutely went the entire month of January without eating out or ordering in ONCE...not even a cup of coffee! So, this week, I am really thankful that my mom taught me how to cook!

Remember when eating out was a treat? Well, it was for our family at least! Maybe it wouldn't have been that way today, but when I was growing up on the farm, eating out was simply not an option in our daily life. We lived 9 miles from the closest gallon of milk, let alone a restaurant. And there wasn't even a McDonald's in the town 17 miles away from us until I was in high school. Nope, for the most part, if it wasn't in our pantry or growing out back, well you were out of luck, my friend. There was no temptation of a drive-thru simply because you hadn't planned ahead what would be for supper that night. Sure, there might be the occasional casserole-ala-experiment for

dinner...but, for the most part, my mom cooked up a mighty fine spread each and every night. And each and every night, all of us got around the table and ate together as a family. It wasn't unusual. It wasn't a rarity. I'm sure it wasn't effortless, but it never seemed like my parents had to stop and force themselves to make sure this was something that got on the calendar. It was part of our life: Supper's on. Come and get it.

This is something I've always desired for my own family. Dinner time. Togetherness. Meals shared, leading to conversations that vary in color as much as the vegetables. I'll admit I'm not the best at it. As a self-admitted TV-a-holic, it is often easier and more entertaining to prop up the tray tables, hand out the paper plates, and all face in one direction while we stuff ourselves in the much-welcomed moment of self-indulgence. No focus. No thought. Just pure, tasty entertainment fed straight to my brain with a side of extra mashed potatoes into my mouth. Maybe it's not Norman Rockwell, but if we were all being honest here, it's what the modern American family looks like today.

As a resurgence of simplicity and nostalgia seems to be sweeping the next generation of young families, I, too, have found a longing to put down the iPhone, pick up a recipe book, and get my hands dirty with some real, old fashioned, unprocessed life. So, I'm starting with small things. Like yeast. Did you know that to make your own French bread is just flour and yeast and a little salt? Did you know you can actually make your own English muffins? And they are delicious! And did you know that most food from scratch is cheaper and tastes better than the store-bought-found-in-a-pretty-able-to-microwave-box? It's true!

Not going out to eat for an entire 31 days was not easy. I had to plan ahead. I had to plan ahead everything. I had to make sure the pantry was stocked with some good staples. And I had to know how to use those staples and to make a meal out of just about anything that was there - or be willing to go to the store to get it (which, with two kids in tow, is basically not worth it for last minute needs). I got to be inventive. I got to be experimental. I got to make some unpalatable failures and some scrumptious successes. It took less money and more time. It was messy and there was a lot of dishes. And it was a lot of fun.

Not to mention, there was an added bonus of unexpectedly losing 4 lbs while eating at home?! It's true! And, sure, I didn't sit around eating Fritos and BonBons...but, I did eat homemade cookie dough, and chocolate croissants, and about an entire loaf of French bread in one sitting. Sure, I am nursing and chasing a toddler around (I don't call Matilda my personal trainer for nothing). But, I can't stress to you how much I was not even trying to lose any weight, literally eating whatever I wanted, and the only change I made to my lifestyle was not eating out at all. So, take that for what it's worth - but, I honestly feel like it has a lot to do with taking a step back from overprocessed junk and embracing some hearty whole foods (like my friend, stick-of-butter!)

Will this stick? Am I giving up restaurants for good? Certainly NOT! My goodness, I'm far too much a lover of food to not enjoy the fruits of another chef. I love going out to eat. I love the experience of sharing food and time with others. I love the gamble of trying something I would never have the confidence to dare cooking at home. I love the convenience of not cleaning up after the meal. And sometimes we are just thankful for that Chic-Fil-A on the corner that will hand me my giant Diet Coke and waffle fries without judgment that I'm splitting them with my 2 year old in the back seat. I am by no means swearing off the joys of dining out.

But, thanks to my mom, I'm not forced to dine out. It can be the exception. My mom, who couldn't cook a hot dog before she married my dad (true story), taught herself the ins and outs of many-a-recipe book...and passed it on to me. She took the time. She let me messily stir the muffin batter. She let me burn the meat loaf. She ate my concoctions. She smiled and asked for seconds when even the dog wouldn't lick the bowl. And today...I'm a pretty awesome cook (thank you very much) and Matilda is a total terror to my kitchen...and it's wonderful.

Maybe I'm no Barefoot Contessa (but, I'm watching you, Ina Garten). I find great joy that learning to cook is an inexhaustible art. I think it is one of the most invaluable skills you can learn. It literally pays for itself in multiple ways: in cost...in the joy it brings to others...in the experience...in the pride...in the time it promotes being with the ones you love, either in the kitchen or around the table. And those are things you just can't order off a menu.