hot breakfast week: day one

Chile Rellenos--It's what's for breakfast.

Er...it's what was going to be for breakfast.

I could see with my wonderful imagination how it was all going to be. I'd return home fresh from my morning run, inspired by the beauty of the desert in spring. I'd turn dials and push buttons, thrumming every kitchen appliance awake to make my husband the best thing since a home cooked dinner from scratch: a home cooked breakfast from scratch.

I wondered to myself as I mixed the cayenne and paprika ingredients--why so much emphasis on hot dinners together around the table? Breakfast can start the happiness first thing in the morning. While I was whisking vigorously, I pictured Steve off at work with an enormous, toothy grin on his face, and everyone in the office would notice. All because of some warm deliciousness in his tummy.

Maybe this is where the blog should end.

No! This journey is about the victories as well as the epic, tell-the-king-we've-lost-the-war-we're-going-to-be-slaves-to-a-foreign-land-the-rest-of-our-lives failure.

It wasn't that bad.

(Yes it was.)

If you want to make these beauties, go here. The thing that drew me to the recipe was the title: Lazy Chile Rellenos.

I did everything right in following the recipe. Nearly.

I lined a pan with chiles. Then cheese. Then chiles and cheese again. Then I poured the perfectly mixed ingredients of eggs, milk, half and half, salt and pepper, paprika, and cayenne.

Then came the pan, and more specifically, the size of the pan. Heaven help me. It's confession time. I must be brutally honest for all the world to see. It's the only punishment that will ensure never making this mistake again.

I decided not to use a 9x13 pan. Oh yes, I had one. But I thought it would look better in a square pan--a much smaller square pan.

Calgon, take me away! Give me that .008 of a second back, life!

The result was a glorious eggy stew. With some chiles. I made my husband obscenely late for work as I kept peeking in the oven, trying to cover up the horror at my creation still not setting up. What domestic diva decides she can change pan sizes from what the recipe calls for!? I guess that's what they mean by domestic goddesses.

I blame the desert in the spring. I always do.























Inspiration for this week's domestic endeavor: my beautiful sis-in-law Michelle

My brother Sammy is a lucky 6 foot two-fer.

barefoot day

It's Barefoot Day in this house. You're invited to join the festivities:

10:35 am-11

toy firetrucks on the carpet

11 am-11:30

scooting lessons

noon

lunch

(Darcy wanted to order a pizza with baby squash and green bean toppings. We'll have to request that sometime.)

Your barefoot presence is requested at 1 pm, when we will hold barefoot music time. (Don't pick the tambourine, that's my instrument.) A barefoot nap will follow at 2 pm.

Ordinary Mommy

There is no end in sight for the good you can do. Do you know it? You are just simple kids. You are not geniuses. I know that. But the work of the world isn't done by geniuses. It is done by ordinary people who have learned to work in an extraordinary way. (Address given by President Hinckley at the University I attended.)
Article here

My daughter loves ordinary things. Her fondest delights can be found in the kitchen utensils drawer. If placed in front of a singing, juggling plush clown that smells like sugarcane, she will knock it over to get to the pasta spoon every time.

Sometimes I get trapped into thinking that being ordinary is a bad thing. The activities that fill up my days are never the kind recognized by the world. I sing "Wheels On the Bus" so many times, the bus has a blowout. While changing a diaper, I assure Baby that everyone on the bus had cell phones and eventually made it home to their mommies.

After lunch, I read a few books aloud with one word or less per page. Then I give a brief piano lesson on a small, four-key baby piano (play what you feel Darcy). Amazingly, none of these things have me jumping on the bed at the end of the day proclaiming to everyone in the room, "I did it! I am amazing!" (I need to make that happen, I've just decided.)

* * *

Two weeks ago, Darcy and I opted out of the morning news, but we learned just as quickly without it about the devastating earthquake in Japan, the 5th largest recorded earthquake in history. The images flashing at me from a screen made me believe that an entire nation would be working to overcome this disaster. Darcy was sitting on one of her blankies with various assorted kitchen spoons. I decided that I needed to get on my knees and pray next to her.

There we were in our pajamas on the floor, in a particularly sunny spot on the carpet. I poured everything I was feeling upwards. I wasn't hoping God would hear me... I wasn't wishing he would hear me... I knew He would hear me. I prayed for my brother and his wife and good friends in the Bay Area. I prayed for the people in Japan affected by the terrible destruction.

When I closed our prayer, I was overcome with a powerful sense of love and comfort. I've heard a lot of people describe the feeling like a hug. Prayer can literally be like calling your dad when you don't know what else to do, pouring out every concern, transferring significant weight onto another pair of shoulders, then saying, "OK, thanks, talk to you soon."

Darcy and I continued our routine for the day, but I approached it with a whole new outlook. I may be ordinary. But like President Hinckley said, I am learning to work in an extraordinary way by "calling" for help. I am ordinary. And that's OK.

Like her pasta spoons, Darcy likes her mommies that way.

laundry day

It's a national, revered holiday that comes once a week for this kiddo.
Wait til she sees Easter.

The domestically inclined know how to save a dime...

Enter garage sales.

I'm always filled with a mixture of terror and Christmas morning joy on Saturdays. My terror is justified when brightly-colored posters direct me to yard sales where people's garbage bins are dumped on driveways, and each "item" is $10.

But one in three sales have cute young moms who sincerely wish to impart gently used clothes and toys that brought fashion and joy to their babies.

Buying used items cuts back on waste, both on our planet and in our finances. Plus, it's hard to get a better thrill than finding some amazing, organic Zolo Kushie toy rings (pictured below) for 75¢! That's like $40 in savings!

Baby Bug Tambourine- comparable toys start at $13. I got mine for 75¢.

Darcy's adorable new Taggies kitty starts at $15 online. I got mine for 75¢. Steve's new beatbox with Elmo (He plays with it more than the baby) 50¢, down from $10.

Leap Frog busy table- $40. My price-$5. All-terrain vehicle that climbs walls-$35 on Amazon. $3 for me. Bunny-in-a-box is $19 online. I got it for 50¢. Dresses are in perfect condish from Gap and Children's Place. They're at least $15 each in the store, and I got each outfit for 50¢.

So every toy smells and looks new, they get dumped in the wash before playtime begins.

And oh boy, does playtime begin.

Because after saving $219, I feel like doing nothing but getting on the ground and playing with cool new toys.

a lot of squash in our future

It's raining in Arizona.

Wherever I am, whether in the valley of the sun or on a moody coast in California, I seem to delude myself into thinking that every drop is meant for me.

Drip
Because Veronica will love the smell

Drip
Because her fondest memories surface in muddy puddles

Drip
Because she's trying to grow a garden in Arizona

Welcome to the Oasis: Carrots, lettuce, red potatoes, butternut squash, yellow squash, tomatoes, jalapeño, cantaloupe, peppers, watermelon, onions, iris bulbs (my favorite flower), and corn. It's quite the grocery list.

inspiration to make our slice of desert bloom inspired by this article

Is there such a thing as squash salsa?
I think we'll be inventing it in a few months.

Christmas in March

I love our nativity.

We got it as a present for Christmas, so I declared that it should remain displayed on our bookshelves a few months so we could take Christmas with us a little longer. Steve caught me admiring it one day, moving the characters and placement of the animals.

"Are you playing with the nativity set?"


"No."


Last week while I was carrying Darcy out of the room, she wriggled and squirmed in my arms, aiming her squishy little body in the direction of the nativity set. I plopped her on the carpet for a formal introduction.

Joseph and the shepherd observed from a safe distance because of their precariously outstretched ceramic hands and pointy staffs.

I think Mary was her favorite. As soon as I told Darcy that Mary was the mama, she wouldn't let her out of her sight.

Sorry wise man.

My favorite part of the nativity is Mary praying. This image of Mary the night Jesus was born never crossed my mind before. As I watched Darcy grip the figurine tightly around the center, I wondered to myself if Mary's prayer sounded anything like mine the day Darcy was born:

Help.

Happy Birthday Art

To many, London is a foggy city.

To me, London is my niece, and I'm glad. She happens to be one of my favorite people. So when she turned two last week, we wanted to show her how much we care.

I wrapped her birthday present in ribbons, rhinestones, dainty shoes, crayons, Puffy paint, flowers, puzzle pieces, and even pin wheels--all destined for their demise. I envisioned London descending on her small mountain of presents. Pin wheels and ribbons would be flying in the air.

That's not what ended up happening. Her mom helped unfold at the creases, preserving every inch and corner. I'm kind of relieved. I may or may not have named my creation (Sybil).

If you asked what my favorite square inch of this gift wrapping explosion is, it would definitely be the shoe bee:

I spy a puppy frolicking in a grassy puzzle piece.

The beginnings

No wrapping paper was used in this gift wrapping. No cows were harmed in the making of this girly gift. The best I could figure, pink is London's favorite color, because when Steve or I ask London what color something is, the answer is always, "PINK!" So I went for a pink-and-green combo with a side of purple.

The oops

This is my dumbesticity personified. Our kitchen table was rendered useless for three days as a result of this project. When we finally needed to eat for survival, we literally pushed piles of junk south until we had cleared a small corner of the table. Note to self: reign in that creativity a bit and keep to minimal atomic bomb aftermath.

Happy birthday London!

Seeing Green

Green is one of my favorite colors, and I knew we'd be seeing far less of it when we moved to Arizona a year ago. To celebrate St. Patrick's, I went on a little hunt for the green stuff in our home.

How hard did YOU smile for St. Patty's Day?

Happy weekend wishes!

Homemade squash and sweet potato popsicles

My fabulous sis-in-law, Aubrey, sometimes rides green scooters.

This is Aubrey. She's taught me that walking can be exercise, Redken can be my shampoo, and baby food can be homemade. She's like the woman in the grocery store all the other moms are watching for tips on how to be awesome. Last week, she invited me to her kitchen to show me how to make Darcy some homemade-with-love squash and sweet potatoes.

Yes! No more agonizing over how much cuter my child is than the ones pictured on her jars of food!

The process

 Little Miss returns from the field with a few of her favorites

Scoop out the goop. Place the squash in a half inch of water. Bake at 400 degrees F for 40 minutes or until shell/skin looks puckery.

 Place "meat" into an appliance for pureeing. Add water as necessary to achieve a smooth, thin consistency.

Skin and slice sweet potatoes before baking, and follow the same process.

 Ladle or pipe the baby food into ice cube slots and freeze overnight. Keep stored in freezer. Pull out a few veggie-sicles and microwave for 30 seconds.

 

Feed baby.

Pray the homemade-with-love veggies don't make her grow any faster than she already is.

For more tips on how to make more baby food even I would eat, go here. Or befriend Aubrey.