I Remember...

I think remembering these moments with our children are so temporary and fleeting only makes them that much more precious (& sometimes more endurable but let's focus on the positive).

For instance, I will choose to wax nostalgic someday about how my little girl loves to curl up in my lap & NOT remember the tantrum when cuddle time was over.

I will choose to remember the over-excited two year old tearing out the door, boots in hand, to go w/ Daddy to Lowe's & I will NOT remember the giant booger I had to extract before he was deemed fit for public.

I will choose to remember how excited the kids were to eat by the fire pit last night & NOT remember the tears as the dog ate not one, not two, but three of Wyatt's tortillas. Shelby has learned to defend her food much more effectively over the years.

I will choose to remember the pride of watching my son drive his tractor all the way to the park & NOT remember the eerie feeling of every child slow and zombie-like gather around the new toy like right before a feeding frenzy.

I will remember my daughter's white-blonde curls erratically bouncing behind her as she whips by on her princess bike, ringing her bell & NOT remember her whipping through a stop sign w/ me shouting at her and the ensuing yelling and tears.

I will remember when Shelby learned to pump her legs on the swing. I will remember when Wyatt learned to reach over and turn on his light and fan...at 1:00 am. I will remember how Shelby felt it her duty to report back to me every school day on who was bad, what they did, and their just punishment received. I will remember how Wyatt accidentally whacked my rear with his broom & then gave it a kiss and pat. I will remember how they both loved to jump on Daddy & I's bed. I will remember how offended Wyatt was getting his 2 year old shots and Shelby's fascination with the whole process. I will remember how my daughter wanted to wear only dress pj's preferably with a princess. I will remember the heavy, limp form of my sleeping son as I removed him from his car seat after a late lunch with Daddy.

Just like the pangs of labor so quickly erased from our memories, I'll forget the tears, and the time-outs, and the constant repetition, and the "no you cannot wear that out," and the worry over developmental milestones, and the second guessing my choices.

I'll remember the sweet voices of my young children playing in the backyard on a beautiful spring day, choosing to treasure and remember the moment amidst the chaos of life.

Checca Sauce

Oh Giada...Master of Simplicity. I uncovered this recipe and randomly tried it. Holy Moly! Who would have thought that such common ingredients lightly pulsed together and tossed w/ hot pasta would we so so so so so delicious?!?!

I think what elevates this dish is the freshness. Fresh basil, fresh cherry tomatoes, fresh garlic...with the two cheeses added in and ever so slightly clinging to the hot pasta in one glorious mouthful.

I simply make this SUPER fast dish a meal by slicing cooked chicken and laying it on top. No laborious slicing and dicing. Also, I use penne instead of spaghetti b/c my kids can eat it easier:).




2 lbs cherry tomatoes
3 scallions (white and pale green parts only)
1 (1oz) piece of Parmesan cheese, coarsely chopped
3 garlic cloves
8 fresh basil leaves
4 Tbsp olive oil
4 oz fresh Mozzarella cheese, cut into 1/2 inch cubes (I used the pre-shredded)
1/2 tsp each salt and pepper
(+ more to taste, if desired)

Food processor REQUIRED


Directions
In the bowl of a food processor, pulse the scallions, garlic, Parmesan, basil and oil. Add cherry tomatoes just until the tomatoes are coarsely chopped (do not puree).
(I throw in the pre-shredded mozzarella with all the other ingredients. If you get fresh just stir it in after pulsing everything else.

Add salt and pepper.

Toss the sauce immediately with your choice of freshly cooked pasta.

New Shoes

So my son really likes crocs.

I mean really, really, really likes them.

Beware if your children come around him wearing them b/c they have a strange way of reappearing on his feet.

Anyway, he has been croc-less for a few months over winter (large holes in shoes tend to not keep the feet as warm) and I wasn't sure if he had gotten over his shoe obsession.

And then we went to Target...

I saw some knock-off crocs with little froggie faces and succumbed to temptation. What was the result of my downfall. I now must hide the froggie crocs or that is all he wants to wear, fully lamenting when I insist on another pair.



He sure is proud of his new shoes.

And Mother of the Year Goes To...

So let me set the scene-

It had been a crazy day. Seth and I decided somewhat last minute to go out to my parents' place in Millican on Friday night instead of just driving up Saturday. Well, every mother knows that overnight trips involving children and spontaneous decisions DO NOT GO WELL TOGETHER! I was doing some very last minute shopping for Wyatt's birthday on Saturday (not that he knows or cares that much), but, still, you like to set a precedent for the future. Anyhoo, blah blah I was busy all morning and when the kids woke up I had to run a cake into town and tried a last ditch shopping trip to Target near our house. I hadn't packed ANY clothes yet. Why? you ask. Well, because about two hours earlier all my children's clothing was dirty. Moving on. At least Wyatt's present had been purchased and the clothes were all clean albeit in a pile on our dining room table. While I am checking out of Target (with Shelby in HEAVY negotiations for the candy oh-so-convenienty at her eye level), Seth calls and I realize he is about to get off work. I CAN DO THIS!

*pause for breathing*

So I have set the frantic scene so that you might excuse my slight lapse later. I whip into the driveway unbuckle Wyatt (not needed w/ BIG girl Shelby "I CAN DO IT MYSELF!"). I run inside and change a suspicious smelling diaper and begin to frantically search for socks, underwear, pacifiers, blankets, pjs, etc. ALL of which are not in the same place. The whole time I am tearing from room to room I hear an occasional honk of my car horn.

I'll deal with Shelby's new little discovery as soon as I can find Wyatt's other sock!

In the meantime, hubby pulls in the drive and begins to load the dogs up in the bed of his truck. However, something is amiss. On one of his trips into the garage he hears a very muffled "Daddy!".

Strange he thinks. And begins to look around.

(muffled)"Daddy! I'm stuck in the car!"

A somewhat distraught Shelby was retrieved from Mommy's car where APPARENTLY she can work the seat belt but not the door latch.

Ah well, at least it wasn't as traumatic as the time I locked her in the car at HEB. Now there's a story...

Genetic Differences

Boys and girls are different.

Not every girl loves lip gloss and twirly skirts.

Not every boy wants to play in the mud.

I know this does not come as a shocking revalation to most, but I felt the need to preface the following story of my four year old.

We are on out way to school when my oldest tells me that "yesterday" i.e. anything that happened in the past her good friend was absent.

"Oh. Who did you play with?"

"I played in the gym with Sara and Mckenna."

"What did yall play with?"

"They were the older sisters."

"Were you the baby?"

"No! The basketball was the baby. It was baby Jesus."

"Oh. Did you put the baby to sleep?"

"There weren't any beds so we put him to sleep in a hula hoop."

Now on one hand, I found this very resourceful of the young girls. On the flip side, I had an image of all the little girls gathered together trying to rock their "baby" basketball to sleep while the boys ran around pegging each other with the very same balls.

I just thought this story underscored a fact some silly theororist tried to dissuade me of in one of my education classes in college.

Boys and girls are just different.