Random Thoughts

Heather here. As I write this, the two littles are sitting on the loveseat playing UNO. There is a lot of giggling and the volume button seems to be stuck on loud. I keep hearing myself shooshing, but why?  They can't even hear me.

My eyes survey  the living room and my sight is met by messes shemesses. The big girl comes out of her room, messy hair, looking a little like a lion. "I feel a lot better!" she exclaims. This is good news since she was very sick the day before.

Now they are holding the cat, Lucy, and singing Frozen songs over the cat....."Let her go, Let her go, can't hold her back anymore!" A chorus of giggles ends the song. The cat escapes to freedom..

The Big Boy....still sleeping, will soon need to be awakened. Fingers crossed that his teenage hormones will feel happy today.

Must take a quick break to refill the coffee mug with "Heaven's Goodness." Someone should name a coffee blend with that name. When God created the coffee bean, it was with moms in mind...He said, "This will be my hugs and kisses for moms all over the earth each morning!" Maybe we have made it all too complicated.....Really, coffee IS His mercies that are new every morning! You know, Solomon the Wise was sitting with his "Wake up and Getterdun" coffee mug, writing Lamentations, because he had not had a sip of "Heaven's Goodness" yet.

Little Boy comes in at full volume....."Are you on the Predators or the Peahawks?" "Peahawks, what is that?" I ask. "The Peahawks!" comes the determined response. I laugh.

It all unravels so quickly...Little Boy starts to whine, will crossed, attitude suffers, disrespectful words follow. The Dad overhears...."Little Boy, apologize." Little Boy throws himself to the floor...the apology is slow in coming. You can see the embarrassment on his face, the decision being made internally, whether he wanted to be right or to be humble.

"I'm sorry for being rude"...long pause..."Will you forgive me?"(prompted by The Dad). "Of course I will!" I respond.

This little scenario stirred the thoughts...when we wrong others by attitude or in word...do we want to be right and embarrassed or do we want to be humble and forgiven? "Will you forgive me?" Those words are like a reset button that resets hearts, attitudes, even atmospheres!

Hugs, kisses...Little Boy goes on to win a round of UNO!

A Toddler's Plea

When 8pm rolls around each night, I am inevitably exhausted and ready to tuck my babies in for the night.  Truth be told, I am drained by 6pm and those extra two hours can sometimes be challenging.  After prayers are said, I am met by the same request from my 3-year-old:  "Mommy, you read me story?"  And nearly every night, my response is, "No, baby, not tonight."  I mean, I have done my daily duty as a mom by reading to my kids all through the day, so he doesn't really need another story, does he?!  But why not?  Why not tonight?  What does it hurt to take an extra five minutes to tuck him in by snuggling and reading a cute story together?  I am tired and exhausted, but how much energy does it really take to take a moment to just be with my youngest child?

Psalm 127:3 says "Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward."  As hard as it is to admit, I had to stop thinking of my children like a chore and more like a blessing to be cherished.  There will come a day when he won't ask for snuggles and books, and that day will come all too soon.  I am in no rush for that day to come, even with all of the challenges of raising an active toddler.  My answers have turned into, "Of course, sweetie!  Pick a book for us to read."  This nightly reading time is about more than providing him with the advantages being read aloud to may give him.  It has become a special time of extra hugs and kisses to give him the attention this little man thrives on. It has allowed me to see his own passions develop, evident in the types of books he chooses to read with me.  It has opened up discussions about his day and his plans for what tomorrow may bring.    This special time together each night has helped our bond grow stronger and has helped me find extra joy in parenting toddlers.  Raising children can be challenging and wearying, but there are so many special moments in every day life to appreciate.  Find those moments, and life itself will feel more enjoyable.  Focus on the blessings children bring so when the tiring occasions arise, you will be able to react in love and peace, not frustration and agitation.  Say "yes" more to the little, inconsequential requests your babies have and watch their fascination and appreciation bloom in their sparkling eyes. I promise you won't regret the feeling that glimmer brings to your heart.

Mason Jar Crayon Organization

     I have a confession...I am slightly obsessed with mason jars.  Really, I am obsessed with any type of glass jar.  I mostly use them in the kitchen for food storage, but they are just so darn cute that I had to find another way to utilize them in my house.  I am pleased to admit that I did not break our motto of "Use what you already have" in the making of this post ;)

     My lovely children use crayons on a daily (sometimes hourly) basis, and I am often asked, "Mom, where is my favorite red crayon?"  I didn't know it was possible to have a favorite red crayon, but according to Dancing Queen, it is quite possible to have not only a favorite red crayon, but a favorite green, blue, and yellow one, too.  Anyway, my go-to response was, "Um...I'm not sure...go look in the crayon tower."  Our crayon tower is our much-loved mishmash of crayons container.  But we somehow also have crayons stashed in other random spots all over the house.  With all that chaos, it is hard enough to find one red crayon, let alone a favored red one.

Mishmash pile

     I decided that the solution to (1) finding crayons and (2) using mason jars somewhere other than the kitchen would be to sort all of that mess by color.  You don't really need directions for this project, as I am sure you, my dear reader, can sort by color.  Basically, I took 9 mason jars and put one color in each jar.  I combined white and black in one jar, and I have one jar for pencils and pens (because another statement I hear often is "Mom, I can't find a pencil!!").  I then tied a matching ribbon to each jar, just for fun.  I am missing a ribbon for my orange jar, as I had no orange ribbon on hand.

So colorful!!

Now, if only I could figure out how to keep The Hulk from destroying my masterpiece...

A Giant's Purpose

Dappled sunlight....flickers across the ground...breeze blowing...sweet scents of ocean mixed with wood...teases the senses. Ancient giants...leaves dancing in the breeze. Guardians of the Western coast. Like an army standing at their post. Gatekeepers to the East...keepers of secrets from ages past. Much has changed over the centuries they have guarded. Volumes of books could be written about the stories they could tell...if only they could talk.

Tall, stately, grand, these trees are world renown. Travelers come from around the globe to see their beauty and gaze up at their stature. When one falls, the earth trembles, far and wide, crashing, producing sounds like that of a train wrecking. Opportunity for sunlight to cast its warm glow comes through the space left open by the mighty fallen one.

My heart feels sad as I look at the one whose massive girth lies out in the distance. But as I walk around its' length, I realize that even in death, there is life. The hole left from the massive trunk and roots becomes shelter for small animals, and also provides an excellent photo opportunity for the tourist. Sunlight rushes in, causing smaller ones that once had the privilege to grow in the shadows of the fallen giant space to grow slowly over time to the same stature. On the top, running the length, is new growth. As I look, I realize eventually, ever so long from now, that tree will become part of the forest floor. Life will have long been established from all of the nutrients even in death the fallen one offers.

In my random thoughts, as silly as it may seem, I have caught a glimpse of a truth in the body of Christ. There are spiritual giants, guardians of our hearts, gatekeepers, tall, stately, and grand in the spirit. There are those who grow up under their covering, in their shadow...protected...kept. But even in death, if a true giant, there is life. The roots, things they established, give safety and shelter. New life and growth are established on top of what they were and their strength eventually becomes the floor and the nutrients necessary for the next generation. Continuing the heritage of tall, stately, grand. 

Creating a Read Aloud Household

     I can vividly remember my favorite childhood summer as if it were yesterday.  My little brother and I spent the whole summer with my grandparents in Maryland.  Days were filled with playtime with cousins, exploring the the woods, jumping on the trampoline, and swimming in the community pool.  Nights were occupied by swim meets and milk alongside Oreo cookies.  However, the most precious memory I have is snuggling up with my grandma on the couch while she read Roald Dahl's The BFG and James and the Giant Peach.
     Now that I have my own children, reading aloud is something we strive to do daily.  Even if we didn't homeschool, we would still read together every day.  Here are some tips to get started reading aloud:

• Start small.  Pick a fun book you think you and the kids will enjoy.  Start with just reading for 5 minutes.  Increase time as your kids either start asking for more or are willing to sit for longer periods of time.  
• Break out coloring books (or other quiet activities like legos, play dough, etc.).  Keeping little hands busy is perfectly fine!  They will still be listening to you.  
• Pick a time that works for your family.  For us, it is right before bedtime.  On days I know we will be out of the house later than normal, we will read right after lunch.  We aim for 30 minutes of read aloud time, but on busy days, we are happy with just 5 minutes.  
• Use audiobooks in the car.  Libraries will often have quality audiobooks you can check out.  
• Be excited about reading to your kids!  They will pick up on your excitement and want to hear you read aloud, too.  
• Get kids involved by letting them pick the book you will read.  I create a box of read alouds I want to read, and let them choose from them.  
• Start young if you can, but don't be afraid to start if your kids are older.  They will still benefit from being read aloud to.  

Need help getting started with a booklist?  I have booklists by age that we read for literature in school, but these are also just amazing books to read aloud as a family.  The grades don't really matter, as most can be read at any age.  These lists are also in no way all-encompassing.  There are many options for excellent children's literature...these just happen to be some of our favorites.  I will also include a link to Pinterest with some booklists I have found on other boards:)

Ages 2-3
Ages 4-5
1st Grade
2nd Grade
3rd Grade
4th Grade
5th Grade
6th Grade

Booklists from Pinterest

We would love to hear what your favorite books are!!  I am ALWAYS looking for something great to read.  

To Honor....'Tis so Sweet

There is something so sweet about friends and family gathered around the a well set table. As if the table is dressed in its Sunday best just for the sheer pleasure. Delicate dishes, lace, candles, silver, napkins, crystal and delicious food. But friends and family gathered around a table set with paper plates, plastic utensils and foam cups holds its own graciousness as well. Memories are made around a table, whether its a Happy Birthday, We will miss you, Congratulations, Holiday or everyday dinner.

One of my favorite dinners was set with paper plates after a very long day. The meal consisted of  hot dogs, baked beans and fresh cut veggies. The laughter around the table will forever be etched in my memory. Big Boy, in rare comedic form, had the whole family roaring with laughter.

Our home seems to be the hosting place, whether it's a picnic, birthday or an out of town guest,  and it is more frequent than not to have the minimum of thirteen for dinner. We love every minute of it! What better way to express love to others than through good food and lovely conversation.

Recently, I had the privilege of hosting a birthday dinner for one of my favorite individuals! Can I say, I felt nothing but sheer joy as I planned, cleaned, prepared and cooked. But setting the table....that is my favorite part of hosting any kind of meal or party. BLISS...that is the only word that comes to mind. As a little girl, my mom had a set of Blue Willow dishes that belonged to my dad's mom. I remember asking if I could have them when I got married. I would have tea parties and dress up...there are a lot of happy memories attached to those dishes. A birthday party for one of my favorites, with my favorite dishes, seemed like the perfect idea.

Having the privilege to honor someone I love is a passion of mine. Actually, just honoring others is one of the most fun ways I can think of to spend my time.

Reading, Writing and Arithmetic

It happens all to soon.....that repulsive noise...Time to wake up. I roll over and hit the snooze, again and again. Just a few more minutes wrapped in sleeps warm embrace. Oh, but then I remember. There is no time to dilly dally this morning. I drag out of bed, look in the mirror to see if my hair might be in good enough condition, dress myself, pour a cup of "Heaven's Goodness" and dash out the door.

The traffic is heavy. It's a good thing I am going the opposite direction. Gratitude washes over me as I think about the privilege of working from home...little fingers on the keys...rather than long commutes and traffic.

The pickup is loud as I roll into my parking space. Walking to the building, my eyes well with tears. This will be my last year to walk into this building. Time Flies...how did we get here so soon? These thoughts pass through the doors of my mind as I press the buzzer. I walk down the long hallway filled with fun art and proudly displayed creative writings.

She sits on her stool, activity around her as a couple of classroom helpers pack up for the summer. She says good morning. Motions to the stool next to her. Here is the end...teacher by my side...explaining the accomplishments of Little Boy. Reading skills, check. Math skills, check. Writing skills, well lets say maybe a half check. Summer work, keep progressing, new grade standards, delightful boy to teach.

Tears stream down my cheeks, the trucks loudness drowns out the morning traffic.

Like the repulsive noise of the alarm, I am wide awake! Where did the time go? What seemed like endless nursing, poopy diapers, muddy feet, feverish bodies, blankies, cuddles, hugs, kisses, more hugs, more kisses and I love you to the moon and backs. I look and see there is no time to dilly dally. There is no more time to be wrapped on grief's embrace. Time refuses to stand still. I am faced with the choice to miss out or be fully awake and fully alive!

The Icky Sticky Frog, The Story of Jonah and the Whale, Moostle Toe, these are the staples of Little Boy's favorites. Hugs, kisses and alarm clocks, these are the staples of The Mom's favorites. I am fully awake!

Recipe - Best Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies

I am not a cook, but I absolutely LOVE to bake.  Today, I am sharing my favorite recipe for Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies.  According to Superman, my very hard-to-please husband (at least when it comes to food), claims these are the BEST EVER cookies.  

Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies (double batch* - makes about 4 dozen 2-inch cookies)

1 1/2 cup crunch peanut butter

1 cup vegetable shortening

2 1/2 cups brown sugar (packed)

6 Tablespoons milk (we use whole, but any milk is fine)

2 Tablespoons vanilla extract

2 eggs

1 3/4 cup flour

1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

(1) 16oz bag of mini chocolate chips

Set oven to 375 degrees.  Combine peanut butter, shortening, brown sugar, milk, and vanilla in a large bowl.  Add eggs, one at a time until blended well.  

In a separate bowl, combine flour, baking soda, and salt.  Add flour mixture to peanut butter mixture a little at a time until gone.  Mix until flour is blended.  Stir in chocolate chips.  

Drop by rounded teaspoons onto baking sheet and bake for 9-10 minutes.

Enjoy!!!  

*Double batch too much?  Halve the recipe or follow these directions to freeze your dough.  

Laundry Room Refresh

 I might as well call it Mt. Everest. The pile of laundry that never ends. Wash, dry, fold....wash, dry, fold. No matter how much I hate the thought of running around naked, that horrible thought doesn't change my mind about doing laundry. Washcloths that didn't get rinsed, wrung and hung, leave an odor that I am not fond of.

Every time I would pull back the curtain on the shelf that housed the laundry supplies, it seemed that something would fall out...ENOUGH.
So I decided to change my life by changing my laundry room (if only it were that simple). I stood in the doorway starring, hoping that perhaps divine inspiration would simply fall down from the sky, giving me a love and passion for cleaning clothes.

 I simply became more frustrated until I decided...no more! Rolling up my sleeves, giving myself a pep talk, and turning up the music really loud, I set out to reorganize and beautify. Inspiration came slowly, but as I simplified all the cleaning supplies and organized, I began to feel better. With each dust bunny that I vacuumed, hope was birthed...maybe just maybe I could learn to like the laundry process.

Pinterest makes all things seem possible. All the beautiful, enchanted, magical laundry rooms that wash the clothes that are on there as well. So dreamy...OH!!!! SORRY!!! I must have fallen asleep:)

We had several people live with us this past year, and one of the purchases we made was an armoire from Ikea. I simply repurposed it for the laundry and cleaning supplies as well as a home for my handy dandy vacuum cleaner, broom and dust pan of which was homeless in the messy laundry room.

In the organizing process, I decided to rank the cleaners I like the most and only purchase the basics from now on. The simpler the better. That way even my six year old knows where the toilet bowl cleaner belongs. I have figured out to stick with what works and leave all the fancy labels at the store.

Generally, I make my own laundry soap. We have a well and our water has a lot of iron and minerals. The soap recipe that I use cuts all the unwanted odors and makes everything smell fresh. But time has been limited lately and so I have purchased soap instead.

I now have a place to hang a hand towel and write love notes to The Husband....hehe...multiple functioning items are always a plus!



The breakdown of the Refresh is this....four laundry baskets $3.47 each, S hooks $3.97 (two packages), two jars with chalkboard labels ($5.97 each). My grand total was $33.76 plus tax. Not bad a price to pay for an attitude adjustment.

I won't exaggerate and say I LOVE doing laundry now. But it is a pleasure to be able to serve my family and at the same time enjoy the process. The best part about the whole refresh is the fact that I would spend quite a bit of time sorting laundry. Not anymore!!! All four of my children sort their clothes at the end of the day...all I have to do is put them in the washer, add soap and softener and it is on its way to cleanliness!

Although it may not be Pinterest Perfect....its Practically Perfect to me! And that's what matters!!!

It's Just a Broken Red Chair

I suppose seasoned veterans of the sharpened pencil and crisp fresh paper might call it writers block. I think I called it beginners luck that ran out and now I have nothing more to write about, a dried up well of limited writing ideas. But then...the well found a drop of moisture!

Some time ago, The Husband and I ventured off to go hear a wildly popular money guru speak. The hope was that the wealth factor was contagious and we might catch it as easily as the common cold. After hours.....and I do mean hours....of sitting, I can recall one thing. Now, I am sure if I thought long and hard, I might be able to recall a second item, but at this moment it's only one.

Are you ready for this one life altering statement???? Ready??? "What do you have? Use what is in your hand." Seriously? I paid xxxxx dollars to come catch your wealth bug like the common cold, and you tell me to use what is in my hand!

But this one question/statement has echoed through the chambers of my mind since. It has forced me to rethink my thinking process and has caused me to become more creative. In all honesty, I used to think that way and live that way even as a child, up until a few years ago. That's when I started feeling the need to buy new, rather than reuse what I already had, cherishing the old.

Now lest you think  HOARDER and run down the street yelling that dirty seven letter word (hehe...get it? dirty seven letter word!) Let me clarify. Is it in good shape? Could it be an antique? Does it carry a high sentimental value? Or is it junk? There is only one place for junk....that's the garbage! But if what I have is in good condition, can I use it for another purpose?

I have always loved old stuff...ALWAYS. I would take old scraps of fabric or old clothes, flannel, fleece, and make sleeping bags and pillows for my barbies. I would make vests and booties out of old felt for my baby dolls. I would take old dishes and play tea party and pretend the Queen came to visit. The older the better. If it was old, I was in love with it. When my family was preparing to move to Florida, my husband looked up the demographics...he told me I would be right at home because the majority of the population was old.

Enter the broken red chair. My mom was always on a quest for old things to dispose of....GASP!!! I can recall multiple tisks that she and my dad would have over her eagerness to get rid of all of his old stuff, antique crystal, dishes and collectables. Things that had belonged to my grandmother. My poor dad, I remember one day, him accusing her that if he got old she was going to get rid of him as well. So began my mom's journey of packing all things old and storing them out of sight, the old red shed, the attic, the white barn. On occasion I would dare to tip toe past fear, spiders and mice, to dig through the boxes of treasure. I felt like an archeologist. I loved bottles, crystal, frogs, blue willow, milk glass, all things old. My mom conveniently misplaced, at the back of a stack of boxes housing delightful treasures, an even greater treasure, almost equal to that of a pirates bootie. The broken red chair.


                                
                                 

That broken red chair was something I would unearth, bring in, clean up...then my mom would "clean up" and my treasure would disappear. Time would go by and I would find its new hiding spot, and start the process all over again. The broken red chair belonged to my Grandma Grace, or as she was called in our house, Grandma Curtis. Grandma Curtis was born in 1899 to my Great Grandma Charlotte Annie, who was an only child, because her father was killed in the Civil War. Grandma Charlotte had a small herd of children and that broken red chair has the memory of many bottoms sitting in it. Grandma Grace was the youngest of the batch so the chair ended up in her keep. The chair has not always been red or broken. It once had been a child's rocking chair. When I first discovered it on one of my archeological expeditions in the red shed....there it sat... in all of its oldness and glory, smelling of dust and mildew, one rocker was broken, the other completely missing. It was oaken in color and had a very worn brocade cream fabric with small pink and blue flowers, with a delicate braided trim. The bottom of the chair had horse hair falling out, along with the seat batting. I'm sure to the casual observer it was broken junk, but to me it was perfectly beautiful. At some point my mom went through a "lets paint everything red" phase, and so I stripped the chair of its broken rocker and removed the worn and ancient fabric.

That little red chair has such a rich history, broken or whole. It has lived in Ohio in the late 1800s, it has had many children sit and rock, read stories, a shush their baby dolls to sleep, gently rocked away the tears and worries of little hearts. It has lived in a farmhouse, a ranch house on five acres, in a shed, in an attic, in an old red shed. It has been carefully packed and traveled through Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Oklahoma, resting in Texas. Made four moves in Texas, packed once again, traveling through Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and Florida. Left packed for over a year and then moved into an attic for the past four years.

But then the words echoing in my mind...."What do you have? Use what is in your hand" has given new life and a new look to the 125 year old broken red chair. If only it could talk.... Oh, the stories it could tell.

Finding Me...and a new Sewing Cabinet

     Saturday morning, I found myself sitting in my car having a mild panic attack.  All was quiet as I sat there by myself.  After a few moments of deep breathing and some contemplation over what set me off, I realized what my problem was.  I was all alone and had NO idea what to do!  You see, I had already dropped The Hulk off at my friend's house and had just dropped Dancing Queen off at dance and was staring at a whole day of uninterrupted, blissful free time.  I haven't had to occupy myself for a sustained amount of time for three long years - it had been that long since I took a break from being a mommy and wife.  Every now and then, I have had a mom's night out or a date night with Superman, but I have not spent any time alone doing something I enjoy.  I realized I was panicking because I didn't even know who I was anymore.

     After realizing what the problem was, my panic subsided and I decided a trip to a favorite quilt shop was in order.  I always complain about never getting to really look around at fabric.  I usually walk in, grab the fabric I want, and walk out.  It should not have taken me a panic attack and 10 minutes to figure out where I could go by myself. I was able to look at the fabric to my heart's content (and plan a few more projects while doing so) and I got to chat to the people that work there.  As I was chatting with the nice lady cutting my fabric (something that hardly happens when I'm trying to keep a 3-year-old from climbing the fabric stacks), we got to talking about sewing machines.  She asked what I sewed on and I proudly told her I was using an old metal Bernina that my Grandma gave me. Lo and behold, she was trying to get rid of a sewing cabinet that was made to fit my model of machine!  Come to find out, she also lives 15 minutes away from us, so I could easily arrange for a pickup.  I walked out of that shop with fabric, inspiration, and a sewing cabinet.

     I did a lot more that day, but the trip to the quilt shop has been in my brain since.  I came to the realization that I am not "just" a wife and a mother.  While I love both of those titles and bear them proudly, I am also an individual.  I LOVE sewing (and reading...), and I am good at it.  I have ideas and dreams that stem from that love, and I need to cultivate that aspect of myself, too.  I need to spend time and energy on the things I love, so that the next time I find myself with me-time, I am not lost and confused.  So, Dear Momma who is reading this, take time for you!  Don't let three years pass by without spending time alone.  Figure out what you love to do and don't be afraid to invest time and energy into it.  Learn to be comfortable with yourself.  Enjoy your own company and tend your dreams.  It may be hard (unless it's just me), but I promise you it is worth it.

Time Flies

                                                                        Time Flies

In the car a week or so ago, The Little Boy decided to bring along a book of riddles. " Hey, Mom."

"Hey what, Little Boy?" I respond. "Why did the boy throw the clock out the window?" "I don't know" was the words I chose to use. "Because he wanted to see time fly!" A chorus of giggles filled the car.

No one warned me to prepare my heart for letting go. Oh, the warnings were there, to savor the time, but not warning of the letting go process. The sweet  little white haired lady in the grocery store sucked in by the twinkle in the boys eye, looks at me and says, " Oh, honey, enjoy these days, time flies!"

That boy is not little anymore. He is as I affectionately will refer to him, when I write, as The Big Boy. The Big Boy is no longer round, soft, and cuddly. He has sprouted hair on his chin and along the sides of his face, tall and lean, a man boy....should be the term.

He once was the baby that slept through the night from birth. Wide awake during the day, cooing and trying to communicate even at the ripe old age of eight weeks old, speaking in sentences at ten months. A thumb sucker, he would sit in his rocking chair with his blankie watching "Wee Sing Train" and "Veggie Tales."

If you asked him at the age of two what he wanted to be when he grew up, "a worship leader" was the response he'd give, as he marched around the table strumming his little plastic broom like it was a guitar.

The gift of gab turned into a delightful mixture of humor and whit. He is very funny.

Looking back at the time that flew by, the questions tumble past. Does he really know how much we love him? Did we do all we could to train him and equip him for this next season of life? Will he be light in a dark generation? These questions will only be answered as more time flies by.

My heart is trying to catch up with reality as The Big Boy wraps up his Jr. High education and walks through the doors of high school.

From the moment our children are born, they capture our hearts, and we have to spend the rest of the days releasing them while savoring each moment we share with them.

You might be saying, "Savor?  Whatever! My kids are driving me crazy!!!" But in the scope of time, when you look back at the time that flew by, you will remember far more sweet memories than the less than glamorous crazy moments.

Like the sweet little white haired lady said, "Oh! Honey, enjoy these days, time flies."

The Absolute Best Way to Make Cookies!

The smell of fresh-baked cookies is probably one of the most delicious smells in all the land!  I love making cookies, and I love eating cookies, but I don't always have time to make a fresh batch.  Awhile ago, I discovered a secret way to enjoy cookies on a regular basis without baking every single day.  On occasion, we will make freezer meals to help with dinnertime chaos, and I decided to experiment by freezing my cookie dough in ready-to-serve portions.  My experiment turned out perfectly, and now we have fresh cookies whenever we want with no more work than turning on the oven.  The steps below describe how I make freezer cookies.

Step 1:  Whip up your favorite cookie recipe.  Currently, our favorite is peanut butter chocolate chip (I'll share my recipe soon).  I generally make a double batch.

Step 2:  Layer a cookie sheet with parchment paper (foil works, too).  Scoop out your cookie dough (usually about 1 tablespoon) and place on the sheet.  You do not have to worry about spacing here, but I would not let them touch.

Step 3:  Place cookie sheet in freezer for about 15 minutes.

Step 4:  Remove cookie tray from the freezer and place cookies in a freezer bag.  Label the bag with type of cookie and temperature/time for baking.  Put the bag full of cookies in the freezer.

When you are ready to bake some cookies, put the cookie dough on a cookie tray and bake!  I let the cookie dough sit on the tray on top of the counter while the oven preheats.  I also have learned that I usually need to add 1-2 minutes to the cook time.

Homeschool Spotlight: Review of Seasons of a Mother's Heart

     Hey, guys!  This blog is not home-school focused, but I do homeschool and will write about an aspect of that topic on occasion.  For those of you who do not know me (Sage here!), I am a homeschooling mama, but fully believe that the decision to homeschool is a family matter and not necessarily right for every family.  Heather, my amazingly talented partner in crime for this blog, has homeschooled before but her beautiful children currently attend school.  As I said, each family has separate needs and must do what they feel is best for their life at the moment.

     Now that my disclaimer is out of the way, I would love to share my thoughts on Sally Clarkson's book titled Seasons of a Mother's Heart.  Just a few posts ago, Heather wrote an inspiring post titled Tapestry of Legacy.  If you haven't read it yet, please do!  If you did read her post, you know that she wrote about different seasons of life and how we respond during those times.  Clarkson's book poses that same question, and I thought it would be a great time to share my thoughts after my reading.

     First of all, I thought Seasons was an excellent book to read just at a season in my life where I was getting bogged down with homeschooling.  I was getting overwhelmed with trying to teach an intense child, corral another powerful child, nanny two other adorable babies, and keep up with deadlines for our Rustic Rabbit orders.  I needed a fresh look on this homeschooling journey my husband and I have decided to take and a fresh take on life.

Likes:

• This book combines an encouraging book to enjoy and a Bible study.  I consider this a plus in my book.  I can read a book (a favorite activity of mine) and do my Bible study at the same time.  I'm always looking to multi-task;)  
• Clarkson made me think and reconsider some areas of my life.  Chapter 2 - Changing my Will was, by far, the chapter that spoke to me the most.  We are in the process of paring down everything in our life, and I needed to hear words of wisdom about the importance of my own thoughts.  In Chapter 2, Clarkson address the matter of dedication.  God has called us each for a special task, even if we don't yet know what that task is.  She states, "The thread of my life in these years will be brightly colored and strongly stitched only to the degree that I have dedicated my life to the good work of motherhood that God prepared for me to do in eternity past."  This statement is so powerful!  In fact, I could take out the word "motherhood" and replace it with any calling a person has been given.  If God has called us to do something, we need to dedicate our whole selves to making that calling happen.  

Dislikes:  

• I only really have one complaint about this whole book.  Surprisingly, I wish homeschool had been mostly left out.  Before I read this book, I was assured that you didn't have to be a homeschooler to read this book.  While that statement is technically true, I did feel like Clarkson was very pro-homeschool.  As I mentioned in my statement in the beginning, I strongly believe homeschooling is a personal decision and each family has different needs.  Homeschool will not fit every family, and several times while reading I thought, "Gee, if I didn't homeschool, I'm not sure I would like this statement."  Clarkson's book as a whole is such a great encouragement, and I would feel more comfortable recommending this book to more of my mom friends (the majority of which do not homeschool).  

     As a whole, Seasons of a Mother's Heart is a wonderful read and an excellent book of encouragement and refreshment for homeschooling mothers.  If you do not homeschool and can read it with a grain of salt, I highly recommend it to all moms as it focuses on creating disciples of our children by being a disciple ourselves.   

We The People...Say Thank You

We The People....Say Thank You

Since I was a little girl, nothing could provoke tears and cause my throat to get choked quite like the sight of the American Flag and the sound of a group of people singing our national anthem.

In first grade, in the back of my History book, were several patriotic songs. I would sit in a little corner in my living room and I would proudly sing, "God Bless America" at the top of my lungs.

Perhaps it was because I was raised to cherish the beauty of freedom and respect the price of sacrifice, that the emblems of freedom cause emotion. My great great grandfather sacrificed his life in The Civil War for slaves to have freedom. My grandfather fought in World War I, my dad served by draft during peace time, and two of my uncles served in Vietnam.

So I started to take a look at today's holiday - Memorial Day. A day to memorialize those who served our nation (us) to preserve our freedom. To remember those fallen ones who sacrificed all, reserving nothing for themselves, not even their precious lives. For others we memorialize the loss of limbs, vision or even their memory, for us....We The People.

Honor, respect, reverence, these are powerful words. In our mamby pamby society, we call freedom the ability to act like the latest version of Hollywood or look at things on the internet that really should bring back to mind the old children's song, "Oh, be careful little eyes what you see."

Freedom...we have watered down the definition and called it the ability to spout off stupidity and call it freedom of speech. I recall Solomon The Wise wrote these words, "Even a fool is considered wise when he keeps his lips quiet." These "versions" or "definitions" of freedom are almost ridiculous as they cheapen the very fiber of our society.

There is nothing cheap or foolish about true sacrifice. Freedom counts the cost and is willing to take a risk, even if it mean sacrificing all. Freedom chooses self-control and wisdom. Freedom considers how to stay free for future generations. True freedom thinks before it speaks and it carefully guards what it sees lest it be taken captive.

So Memorial Day is to remember those who honored, respected, and reverenced freedom for perfect strangers and future generations.

Sitting by the pool, I look around at the children squealing with delight as they stand under fountains. I hear and see laughter, music, freedom. I look at the tan I have because I live in the land of the free and the home of the brave. A land that honors those who have paid the ultimate sacrifice, so I can spend the day with my family in freedom and without fear. To you fallen ones, and you who sacrificed your bodies, I say......THANK YOU.



Tapestry of Legacy

It was raining. The air was chilled, rather cold. The kind of Spring day one might find a blanket, a book, a corner, a fresh brewed cup of "Heaven's Goodness", and curl up and get lost in a story.

"Could you make this into a keepsake?" came the request.

The Aunt, a delightfully, warm, generous woman in her seventh decade, hands over a bag. Inside, a well used beautiful collection of fabric pieces crafted into a quilt.

I shall take a rabbit trail for just a moment, to say, I LOVE QUILTS!!!!! As silly as it sounds, they make my heart happy. I feel all warm and fuzzy inside. As a child, at the county fair, I would walk through the 4H building gawking at each of the quilts, longing to touch each and every square, each telling a story.

My love for quilts was fueled as well by the Amish. We would take trips to their stores, bakeries, and quilt shops. I dreamed of learning to make a quilt of my own.

After I married, The Husband's Grandmother came for a visit. We had many cups of "Heaven's Goodness" together, having good conversation as we cut, stitched and quilted my first quilt.

I suppose my love for quilts is because of what they represent: history, time shared, meaningful conversation, joy in crafting, warmth, comfort, and beauty.

I am fairly confident that the quilt The Aunt had placed the request for was not necessarily crafted for eye candy. It was a collection of random pieces sewn together; perhaps they used to be a shirt, pants, skirt, dress, or some other functional item, reworked for a functional purpose once again....a blanket....warmth.

There it was in all of its oldness and glory, some pieces more tattered than others. It was beautiful!

The request for the three keepsakes to be made out of the quilt was an order for The Aunt and her two siblings to have a piece of their family history. The quilt had once been their mother's and even their grandmother's. This quilt had served as warmth for over nine decades, three generations of children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.

Who would have thought piecing together old, tired shirts, skirts, dresses, and pants would provide comfort and warmth for nearly a century.

Solomon The Wise, sitting on the front porch, rocking in a rocking chair, with his grandmother's quilt on his lap, pen in hand, coffee in the other, wrote these words, "A good man leaves an inheritance to his children's children." Proverbs 13:22

Inheritance is not just financial, but spiritual and emotional as well. While "re"haberdashering the old, worn, beautiful quilt into three rabbits, I began to think.

Will my life, like the quilt, a collection of pieces, be a collection of seasons? Joyous, difficult, quiet, restorative, sad, grieving, victorious all pieced together by the thread of time, bringing warmth and comfort to my children, grandchildren and great grandchildren, leaving them an inheritance. Nearly a century from now, will I be remembered for warmth and comfort, forged by the seasons that perhaps looked rough and tattered, adding texture and beauty to multiple generations? Or will I be remembered for trying to be polished, a shelf novelty only to be looked at, not being used for its' intended purpose?

My prayer is that no matter the season, I would see it as simply another piece of history to add to the quilt of life, allowing God to use the thread of time to stitch it all together, leaving a tapestry of legacy.