tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16872443385597767162024-03-05T10:22:36.954-07:00Colorado CrockersA Colorado girls thoughts on life, food, family and everything else. Cheaper than therapy and more eco-friendly than a journal.Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.comBlogger527125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-73732577630104880772022-10-09T20:17:00.000-06:002022-10-09T20:17:18.700-06:00Catholics go to hell; and other wisdom from my evangelical upbringing.<p><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I was so excited to tell my Sunday School teacher the news. I had done what she had asked and talked to the other kindergartners in my class about Jesus. One of the girls in my class said she knew Jesus too and went to Church every Sunday, just like me! My Sunday School teacher said she was proud of me for talking about Jesus at school and asked what church my friend went to. I didn’t remember, it was a Saint or something. </span></span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-8a7551fd-7fff-8694-7698-40b197a55ccd"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My teachers face went from smiling to serious. Did my friend say she was Catholic? I was nervous to answer, wanting her to be proud of me again and not sure what I had messed up. I nodded. My Sunday school teacher responded with sadness tinged with disgust. Catholics were not REAL Christians. They worshiped idols of Mary and other saints. My friend was not a Christian and was going to hell, she informed me. </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I remember the sense of sadness and responsibility I felt after that conversation. My friend didn’t FEEL like someone who should go to hell, she loved Jesus and went to church, but then again, I knew the rules. It was MY job to tell her the truth, that is what 'good Christians' do.</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“There is only 1 way</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Its Gods way</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And its Jesus…”</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If my childhood had a soundtrack, this would be the first song on the mix.</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Most of my family considers themselves Christians. They are not the same “flavor” and if you compared their beliefs, my sisters to my cousins for example, they might say the other one wasn’t “really a Christian….” because they don’t believe in hell, or they don’t love others, or they don’t baptize in the correct way. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I remember the first time I heard that Catholics don’t believe evangelicals are “real” Christians, I was so offended!!</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So who decides? What is a Christian? Is it the Catholics? The Evangelicals? The old white dudes with theology degrees? What about the black churches? The indigenous? Christians outside the US? Who makes the rules for what it means to be a Christian?</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Obviously this is above my paygrade, lets ask the interwebs (The Dictionary):</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">What is the true definition of a Christian?</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1 : a person who believes in Jesus Christ and follows his teachings. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">2 : a member of a Christian church. Christian. adjective.</span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">adjective: Christian. relating to or professing Christianity or its teachings.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"the Christian Church"</span></span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So, we do know that the only place we find Jesus, and the stories attributed to him, is in the bible, so we can extrapolate and say that Christians use the Bible as there source of teaching about Jesus. This is problematic for so many reasons we will touch on in a different post. What does the bible say? It seems to me that the majority of Christians seems to agree on the Nicene Creed. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And this is what it States:</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>I believe in one God, the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible.</i></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God, begotten of the Father before all worlds; God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God; begotten, not made, being of one substance with the Father, by whom all things were made.</i></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Who, for us men for our salvation, came down from heaven, and was incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the virgin Mary, and was made man; and was crucified also for us under Pontius Pilate; He suffered and was buried; and the third day He rose again, according to the Scriptures; and ascended into heaven, and sits on the right hand of the Father; and He shall come again, with glory, to judge the quick and the dead; whose kingdom shall have no end.</i></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>And I believe in the Holy Ghost, the Lord and Giver of Life; who proceeds from the Father [and the Son]; who with the Father and the Son together is worshiped and glorified; who spoke by the prophets.</i></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #202124; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>And I believe one holy catholic and apostolic Church. I acknowledge one baptism for the remission of sins; and I look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come. Amen.</i></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">So, to sum it up, only the bible is real and everyone else is wrong. Jesus is the only salvation or ticket to heaven.
The flavor of "Christian" I was raised in was evangelical. </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">American evangelicals believe that:
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- </span><i style="white-space: pre-wrap;">The Trinitarian name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
- God has revealed Himself fully and decisively as attested in Holy Scripture. We believe the Bible, consisting of the Old and New Testaments, to be the inspired and authoritative Word of God. The Scriptures are the guide of faith and life.
- There is only one way to salvation – through Jesus Christ.
- The sanctity of human life at every stage based on our creation in the image of God and our election by God for service in His kingdom.
- The biblical guidelines for human sexuality: marriage as the union of one man and one woman, fidelity and holiness in marriage and chastity outside of marriage for the sake of the Kingdom.
- That the mission of the Church is to spread the good news of the Gospel of salvation in every word and deed. We are sent by Christ into all the world to bring every person into a life of faith, discipleship and submission to the Lordship of Jesus Christ.
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">If we want to get SUPER specific, my early years were spend in a fundamentalist Baptist church. That is an entire rabbit hole itself. That church was attended multiple times a week, didn't believe in movies or secular music, and was about 'moral excellence'. I remember the pastors teenage sons having to sneak off to read the Sunday comic section.
</span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">So, from here on out, assume when I use the word "Christian" I am talking about those people who identify with the above statements. It is always helpful to make sure we are all working from the same definitions! </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">
</span><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sources:<br /></span><a href="https://www.history.com/news/was-jesus-real-historical-evidence#:~:text=Tacitus%20connects%20Jesus%20to%20his,Roman%20senator%20and%20historian%20Tacitus" style="font-family: inherit; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">https://www.history.com/news/was-jesus-real-historical-evidence#:~:text=Tacitus%20connects%20Jesus%20to%20his,Roman%20senator%20and%20historian%20Tacitus</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.</span></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><a href="https://evangelicalassociation.org/?page_id=126" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">https://evangelicalassociation.org/?page_id=126</span></span></a></p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><a href="https://www.ccel.org/creeds/nicene.creed.html" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">https://www.ccel.org/creeds/nicene.creed.html</span></span></a><br /><br />https://bbafnc.org/beliefs/#:~:text=Berean%20Baptist%20Academy's%20core%20values,basis%20of%20honesty%20and%20integrity.</p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><div><br /></div></span>Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-26351657769989338692022-09-28T13:54:00.003-06:002022-09-28T13:54:53.872-06:00Changes<p>A few years ago, a group of friends and I read a great book called "The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck". If you haven't read this book, you are missing out. Its quality. It also came at a time in my life that I really needed the message; you can't care about everything. This book encourages you to figure out your values and use your time in energy in THOSE places, because we can't invest ourselves in every thing, even if they are good things!<br /><br />Its no secret that I was raised in family culture that was heavily evangelical Christian. Anyone who knows me at all knows that I hold that faith system and those who follow it in NO high regard. The last 5 years has confirmed that opinion. Even though I was raised to make Christianity my value set, and it was for many years, I find that I no longer align with those values, people or that style of thinking.<br /><br />I am proud, thrilled, at peace, and excited to be an atheist. My life has never been more on track or full of joy than when I landed here. It has been quite the journey in the making, as this blog is a great testament to. My spiritual self has never been more at peace.<br /><br />This blog will be reflecting on my many year journey of deconstruction. If you consider yourself a christian, and especially if you identify in any way with the evangelical culture and belief, we can assume we might not have much in common or share a world view. You might not enjoy this blog, as I won't speak of your faith system with kindness or any type of reverence, I will be identifying unflattering characteristics of those in the ranks. I will be using a lot of facts, not opinions, beliefs or feelings. <br /><br />I am not interested in convincing anyone to think the same way I do, only hoping someone else might see a glimpse of their experience and see themselves. On that same note, I will entertain no Christian "one liners" or attempts to convert, fear tactics or manipulation, my story is already full of these events and I no longer find them interesting or compelling. I am always happy to hear how your spiritual life has made your day to day better, just don't assume I will think like you.<br /><br />If this interests you at all, especially if you knew me back in the days of a christian faith, then come along. I look forward to friendly conversations, enlightening observations and hearing more about where you find yourself on your spiritual journey. Peace Friends<br /><br /></p>Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-3622525461010433292020-08-27T15:03:00.001-06:002020-08-27T15:03:30.096-06:00Running away from home<p> You might have noticed that the world is kinda stupid right now. Covid, riots, messy elections, strange schooling and layoffs make the world an un-fun place to be. People are angry and feeling like their opinions are God's truth, people who SHOULD share a value system are having a hard time agreeing on anything. Our family has had a bit of a stressful year, as many families have, and it was time for a change.</p><p>So the Crocker Family has run away from home.</p><p>Last Wednesday, we finished packing up Betty Lou Blue Bus, put the van on a dolly behind, grabbed our friend Shannon and rolled out of town. For the next foreseeable future, you may assume that this has become a travel blog. We are not sure how long we are on this adventure, up to 60 days is planned, but the world is a strange place right now so we are holding things open-handed. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltLSDhD5E9oBRNaNoJ7VkzdgXVydhYyBENqSQBlBjHyXEZ7zFFbucB5G3CuVdk8_wyIver8c0yfDU9rmbAVOCe8-ZOGNSNpJSFo08k9nDpoSOwAnrj5qcuKGGL9i8FANOrKRpcnYAAHs/s4032/20200821_160449.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhltLSDhD5E9oBRNaNoJ7VkzdgXVydhYyBENqSQBlBjHyXEZ7zFFbucB5G3CuVdk8_wyIver8c0yfDU9rmbAVOCe8-ZOGNSNpJSFo08k9nDpoSOwAnrj5qcuKGGL9i8FANOrKRpcnYAAHs/s640/20200821_160449.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-88540660959803726352020-07-13T20:30:00.001-06:002020-07-13T20:30:33.052-06:00It's been a minuteWhen thinking things through, some people talk it out with friends, some ask a professional such-and-such, some journal....<div>
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I write blog posts...mostly in my head. I have started to think it might work a bit better if they came OUT of my head.<br /><br />Heaven knows that there is a LOT to work through in the world right now.<br /><br />January was pretty normal, which I completely took for granted. I didn't know what I didn't know, mostly that the world was about to turn up-side down.<br /><br />February we ended up in the hospital with a very sick kid. Eliana had an infection that moved into the space between her eyes and brain and cause several blood clots. There was surgery, a 10 day hospital stay, and she came home on a pharmacy worth of drugs, including a central line. I don't know what we would have done without our friends and family rallying around us. We had meals and gift cards for takeout, groceries, sleepovers for the other kids, and so many people who stood in the gap for us. My heart will forever be grateful.<br /><br />March came around and Elie was ready to go back to school, still on a central line, still on drugs, but we thought we could pull it off. All the kids were thriving at school, despite the new normal at home. She went for one day before covid shut the world down.<br /><br />Back in the October, the birth center I was an educator at shut its doors. I had been helping a friend out with her animal rescue and that all ended in March too.<br /><br />So we figured out what it looked like to quarantine as a family. We had to be extra careful as we have several in our circle who are at high risk, including Elie. We watched movies and read stories, painted picture and crafted, did puzzles and listed to podcasts.<br /><br />As of May, we were ALL sick of online school. School had gone from something everyone was enjoying to something we all hated. No one was sad to see that end!! Elies central line was pulled and we wrapped up blood thinners, she was now just a normal risk kid. But the world is still mostly shut down.<br /><br />June brought protests and heartbreak and anger and so much learning. The world got ugly. People got mean.<br /><br />And now July. I am exhausted. Angry politics, disregarded science, human rights ignored, people putting convenience above kindness, and everyone blaming the other. I would like a refund on this year so far, I wasn't ready. <br /><br />So, with all this, I decided I might not be the only one who has a lot to process right now. So now I will blog. I don't have any deep or insightful thoughts really, mostly just trying to hang on. Wanna come too?</div>
Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-57570775243467125952018-08-14T21:18:00.001-06:002018-08-14T21:18:11.620-06:00So long, summer....I get that blogging may be an outdated form of communication, but, frankly, I do it for me. I have missed it in the last year. It serves as a place to dump my thoughts, but it first requires me to organize them in a readable way. Some of my topics are boring, you have been warned.<br />
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Summer ends this week. Ok, so not "real summer" with a solstice and all but "functional" summer is coming to a close, meaning kids have to get back to school, meaning I have to get back to teaching said kids, since we homeschool.<br />
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I have a love-hate relationship with the end of summer. I love having rhythm to life, which is extremely lacking during the summer months, but I hate having the expectation of responsibility. I love learning new things, but I hate when I have to teach a completely disinterested kids a topic they refuse to engage with. I love fall, but I hate being cold. I love my kids having a chance to hang out with all the school friends (they do an enrichment program each week) but I hate having to be a place at a time with the things.<br />
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I will miss swimsuits and lazy days, library time and travel, grilling out and back yard happy hours. I will miss hanging with the family, swimming days at grandmas pool, Sonic runs, bike rides and playing music on the front porch. I will miss popsicles and stories, sprinklers and sidewalk chalk, hanging out with my kids and doing nothing.<br />
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I suppose all of the above doesn't quite have to end yet. We will have a couple weeks more, at least, of nice weather. We still have one more camping trip on the calendar. I know all good things must come to an end, if we "summered" all the time, it wouldn't feel nearly as special. I know I don't have a ton of summers left with all my kids at home (6 at most!) and closing this one out reminds me of how quickly time really moves.<br />
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<br />Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-56709869671052135222017-10-19T12:03:00.001-06:002017-10-19T12:03:36.849-06:00Gluten Free Sourdough<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">WARNING: This bread is a work in progress. </span></b></div>
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I have the best childhood memories of homemade bread. Even better was the homemade sourdough cinnamon rolls! I would "help" my mom mix, kneed, and of course, served as quality control. It reminds me of Christmas and family and FROSTING.<br />
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I hit my early 20's and found out I was a Celiac. *SOB* No more amazing bread.<br />
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It has been my mission for years to figure out how to do a good sourdough bread that is gluten free and doesn't taste like sand/cardboard/icky things. Then I heard about a study out of Italy and it renewed my interest in figuring this out, more on this in a moment!<br />
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A long time ago, bread made this way wasn't considered anything special, it was just...bread. The woman of the house would feed a starter, remove some and mix with salt and flour and water, let it raise for a day or longer, then bake. Repeat daily. Bread took TIME, and science now tells us that it was actually better for us!<br />
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Commercial breads, even ones labeled "sourdough" are no longer made this way. It takes too much time and work, they use a powdered yeast and add vinegar or another acid to make it "sour". When bread is left for a "long rise" the yeasts break down the gluten and make easy for out bodies to digest. Think yogurt, its kinda the same thing. Grains are hard on our bellies (even non-celiacs) and sourdough makes them good for you!<br /><br />Back to the Italy study. Researchers found a bunch of celiacs, broke them into 3 groups and gave group one "normal" bread, group two a lightly soured bread, and group three a long rise version of sourdough. Several out of group one didn't last the whole month long study, my belly hurts just thinking about it. Group two fared a little better. The best news? Group three showed no effect from the bread, the gluten was broken down and changed enough their bodies didn't react.<br />
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So back to the drawing board. Round one, I went with gluten free grains, but in the future I am going to try REAL WHEAT!<br />
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First you must start with a sourdough starter. I have some I am happy to share! It is my moms, started with potato flakes, sugar, yeast, and water. Let me know if you want some!<br /><br />Here is some <a href="https://www.culturesforhealth.com/learn/sourdough/how-to-obtain-sourdough-starter/" target="_blank">help</a><br />
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I make 3 loaves at a time, because it is kind of a pain and I would rather make my kitchen a mess only once a week. And this bread freezes well.<br />
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<b><u>Sourdough GF Bread</u></b></div>
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<ol>
<li style="text-align: left;">Feed your starter. Let set for 12 hours. Remove the portion you need (mine calls for 1 Cup) </li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Make your dough. I fed my starter in the morning, made the dough that evening. See recipe below.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;"> Raise dough in your bowl overnight in a warm, damp place. I put mine on "proof" in the oven with a bowl of water next to it and wet towel over the top.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Punch down dough the next morning. Toss it back in your mixer and add 1/2 c. warm water mixed with 1 tablespoon quick rise yeast. Mix very well (2+ minutes)</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Place dough in 3 bread pans. Let rise until doubled, mine took a bit over an hour.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Preheat oven to 425 with a bowl of water in the oven. When bread is risen, put in oven. Bake at 425 for 10 minutes then drop the temp to 350 for another 20-30.</li>
<li style="text-align: left;">Bread is done when it is brown and has a hollow "thump".</li>
</ol>
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<b><u>Bread Recipe</u></b></div>
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6 c. flour (2 c. tapioca starch, 2 c. oat, 1 c. brown rice, 1 c. garbanzo flour)</div>
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1 1/2 c. boiling water</div>
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1/2 c. sugar</div>
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1/2 c. good oil (think olive or coconut)</div>
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1 t. salt</div>
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1 c. starter</div>
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1/2 T. xanthan</div>
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Later: Proof</div>
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1/2 c. hot water</div>
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1 T. quick rise yeast</div>
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dash of sugar</div>
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In your stand mixer, add 2 cups of tapioca starch. Turn on low and slowly pour in boiling water. As it mixes it should be stringy and gummy. Add the rest of the ingredients and mix very well. Let rise overnight (or 12 hours). Toss back into mixer with proofed yeast and mix well. Shape and place into pans. Rise. Bake. Butter. Enjoy!</div>
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Like I have said, this is a work in progress. This batch turned out very tasty, but I am really excited to try making a REAL and WHEAT bread. REAL sourdough doesn't use packaged yeast, but my GF flour needs the help. </div>
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If anyone tries it, let me know how it works!</div>
<br />Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-62401488863137501422017-10-19T10:04:00.000-06:002017-10-19T10:04:03.091-06:00Average Can I tell you a secret? Well, its only kinda a secret to those who know me.<br />
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I am a half-ass homeschooler.<br />
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This isn't because half-ass is what I am aiming for, its just that we all seem to like to do other things MORE. Things like going to the pumpkin patch or Littleton Historic Farm, things like the museum and the zoo, even things like going for a walk with my 90+ year old grandmother.<br />
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We are aiming for EPIC childhood with a passable education.<br />
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Every state is different, and here in Colorado, we are required to do testing or teacher review every other year starting in grade 3. I am not against accountability, I think testing gives us so idea of where the gaps lay in our children knowledge.<br />
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Testing makes me crazy nervous.<br />
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See, I am ok with our kids learning what they need to know when they need to know it. I also know that much of the knowledge my children posses is not that kind they test for; things like what chickens eat, how to care for foster kittens, the colors to mix to get the perfect shade of brown for the pony, how to make gluten free cookies...<br />
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This year we did testing for all the kids, even though it isn't required for all of them. Despite the fact that my children have never taken that style of test (all on a computer) they seemed to manage ok (except for Jamison, who broke down in tears because he had never used a mouse)<br /><br />Know what? My kids all tested within grade level, totally average.<br />
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I am stoked. Maybe not all parents hear "average" and get excited, but I think average is perfectly fine for the amount of effort we put into actually school stuff. I know that test doesn't tell me how kind, helpful, grace-filled, curious, enthusiastic, and loving my children are. It doesn't measure how good of friend they are, how good they are at art and music, and it doesn't measure compassion. At the end of the day, I am much more concerned with raising well rounded humans than I am on raising children who do well at a test where someone else decided what is important.<br /><br />Of course, you can be all of the above AND really good at school tests. Maybe I will end up raising a kid like that too. At the end of the day, I am really very happy with average.Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-54664578142436616342017-02-18T08:00:00.000-07:002017-02-18T08:00:13.304-07:00School Day BLUES<br />
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<img alt="Image result for mr popper's penguins book" height="200" 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" width="132" /></div>
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Most days we spend about 4 hours total doing school-ish stuff. Each kid has a notebook of core subjects (math, reading, writing, language arts, science, geography) and we read Story of the World with cookies at bed time for our history. We also watch all kinds of documentary's and shows like Cupcake Wars and Good Eats. School days start around 10 (because mornings suck) and there is usually not too much kvetching.<br />
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Until there is. Griping, that is. It starts small, building over the weeks until I hate calling them all to the table for school because I know bad attitudes are coming along.<br />
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It usually takes a week or two of this before I remember that one of the reasons we homeschool our kids and so we can enjoy learning together. When that stops happening it is usually because I have managed to suck ALL the fun out of learning and made home school look way to much like "real school". I can be a little slow on the uptake.<br />
<br />
We were in the grumpy phase of school last week and it was time for a change. This week we did a unit study on the book Mr Poppers Penguins. It was awesome. We had fun together, we learned, we enjoyed a great story, and it was everything I started homeschooling for in the first place!<br />
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We read how the Popper family was short on money for groceries and used the adds to make menus, adding up the cost for a day, week and year of food. We practiced writing letters to people like Mr. Popper did to Admiral Drake. We each chose a different type of penguin to become experts on and figured out what kind of penguin was in the book. We used maps to find out where penguins live, what they eat and how they nest. We wrote newspaper articles about the Popper family, asking who, what, when, where and why questions. We used venn diagrams to see how all they types of penguins were alike. We took a field trip to the museum to see the penguin dioramas. We read countless penguin books and did a ton of penguin crafts!<br />
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This week reminded me why I love to homeschool my kids. Its fun! It also reminded me that a big part of parenting is figuring out when something STOPS working and being flexible enough to make a change. Maybe I will remember quicker next time learning has stopped being fun.Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-55592795392592199682017-02-14T20:16:00.000-07:002017-02-15T20:37:20.600-07:00What is love?"Baby, don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more..."<br />
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Maybe the rest of the world doesn't think in song lyrics, but I do.<br />
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Valentines Day. The haters call it the "Halmark Holiday" and while I am usually the first to be skeptical about all the things, this is a holiday I enjoy. Actually, I believe we should have MORE days that focus on love and making other people feel special.<br />
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My kids love Valentines day. Maybe it it the cherry coffee cake cut into heart shapes (a tradition I have continued from my mother) or the little boxes of chocolates or the little gifts from grandparents. It could be the party at school and the extra games and treats. But I chose to believe its more than that.<br />
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My kids are good at loving. Most kids are. Us adults have all these ideas about the "right" way to love someone, about the "correct" path to romance. Kids just like to love. My kiddos have been creating handmade Valentines for their family and friends for the past several weeks. My oldest wrote something she loved about each of us, along with a picture she thought we would enjoy, in each card. On Valentines day we delivered homemade cookies and card to friends and neighbors, with a special focus on those who might feel extra alone.<br />
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I got my love spicy almonds and dark chocolate and spent the day texting him poorly written, naughty poetry. He spent a bunch of time making me a book with pictures and things he loved about me. We ate an amazing dinner as a family, even Grandma joined in.<br />
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I love love. I love reasons to celebrate people I love. I learn (daily sometimes!) from my children on how to love better, richer, and more authentically. They are never shy to ask to be snuggled, or to say they need kisses and hugs. They are willing to be the first to love, embracing the vulnerability it takes to toss your heart at someone elses feet and hope for the best. When I grow up, I want to be like that. I want to be brave in my love, I want to be willing to ask for love and give it with no strings attached.<br />
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So here is to the haters, I won't wish you a happy valentines day, I will only say that I hope you took the time to truly love somebody and be loved in return.<br />
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<br />Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-21373948359264417302017-02-11T20:37:00.000-07:002017-02-15T21:00:14.514-07:00Mama FailI have anxiety about homeschooling. I have been told by public school parents it isn't any less stressful to send a kid to school that to school them yourself and I have to agree. We all wonder "am I doing enough" or "is my kid really learning what they need to know?".<br />
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Some day, most even, I feel like we are doing pretty good. My kids all learn differently and are good at different thing and we do our best to encourage them to take on hard tasks with integrity even if they will never be the very best.<br />
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Sometimes I am pretty sure I suck at all the things, schooling my children included.<br />
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This is a story of a big, fat fail.<br />
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Addilyn has always been a reluctant reader. Learning to read takes focus, which comes hard for her. It also takes attention to detail (n is a different letter than m) which isn't her strong suit. She has performed at grade level-ish, but has no love for reading, which KILLS me. This year she has struggled. As a 3ed grader, she is beyond "reader" style books and firmly in the chapter book camp. It hasn't gone well.<br />
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The other day, after frustration and tears on both our parts, I sat down for a pow-wow and trouble shoot session with the hubby. We came to 2 conclusions: the first is Addilyn had to up her game and stop doing half-ass work and the second was that we needed to go back to basics and figure out what the kid had missed that kept her from progressing.<br /><br />The next day we told Addilyn our plan of attack, she was on board and promised to work hard. We started with sight words flash cards. We did the kindergarten ones, the first grade ones, the second grade ones....<br />
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To my great surprise, she didn't struggle with a one. She knew them all, most without sounding out, and the ones that stumped her she decoded. I asked her why she did so well on the flash cards but struggled with the book we were reading.<br />
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Her, "The cards are EASY, I can see them"<br />
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Me, "...you can't SEE the words in the books?!"<br />
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Her, "No, the words are small in the chapter books and the letters look alike"<br />
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FACE. PALM.<br />
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Off to the eye doctor, who confirmed the child needed reading glasses. Off to the "therapist" (some people call it the liquor store) for the crappy mama who didn't realize that the kid didn't have a READING problem, she had a SEEING problem. Oy vey.<br />
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We now have some catching up to do. Not being able to see her work has lead to lousy handwriting and an even lousy-er attitude about reading. At least now she can see the flipin' words.<br />
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<br />Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-26693254072879038142016-04-26T12:04:00.001-06:002016-04-26T12:04:39.243-06:00Square Peg dreams<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ahhh the American Dream! Keeping up with those Jones', the house in suburbia, 1.5 children, the job with benefits and a retirement account....<br />
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And maybe a bit of "rat race" and consumerism thrown in there for good measure.<br />
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It might be my issues with authority and conformity, or maybe the base lies in my general disdain for doing what is expected of me, but the above doesn't seem to hold the pull for me that is expected.<br />
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So, we homeschool our kids, and any career I might have is pretty much on hold. We have chickens and ducks in the back yard. We have a rotating cast of furry critters that we foster. We place creativity over information regurgitation. We spend our money more on activities ( Zoo pass! Museum Pass! Piano Lessons!) than stuff. My kids have no idea that the Nick/Disney tween programs even exist let alone do they care to watch them. We are not exactly fashion forward. My children are decidedly themselves, and maybe a little quirky, and most likely very square pegs. And thats fine with me.<br />
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On Matt and my bucket list was building a "Skoolie". This is a old school bus turned into a camper that would allow us to travel and explore, taking advantage of the fact that Matt can do his job anywhere and school is flexible. Through the course of conversation, we have decided that there is no time like the present. Might as well add another punch to the Quirky card.<br />
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<img height="627" src="http://api.ning.com/files/Pp9njAMWrxwTuK4HnhDqQvNa8W1WXGBGtuTKnYnNh140dAkyUA0xIN9X7-bpEogtLehnTRygOfn64xu-AMCfqykRPI7DlCXO/SkoolieBusTransformation1.jpg?width=721" width="640" /><br />
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Through all the research I have done ( and if you know me at all, you know that there is a lot!) I have discovered that we are really not so odd after all. There are all kinds of families who consider themselves "Fulltimers". They have sold all the crap that they owned (and owned them!) and chosen a life that is sustainable with a smaller income giving more space for things that matter, like time with family, adventure and learning new things.<br />
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Now that is commitment!<br />
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We are not quite to the "sell all our crap" stage, but we are in line with the thinking that we don't just want to be a family who life happens to. I don't want my kids to think that a bigger, fancier home leads to more happiness. I want to do adventure as a family way of life. I want them to understand that learning isn't a school thing, but a life journey. I have such respect for families who make the choice to go all in.<br />
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Don't be surprised that if in the next 24 months you see pictures of an airstream/school bus that we are building out. Its ok to think we are a little crazy, we don't mind, and you won't be the first or last.<br />
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<br />Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-37577956712590244702015-12-14T20:11:00.000-07:002015-12-14T20:11:44.927-07:00Cookie Marketing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I am generally not too swayed by marketing. Cynical by nature, I see through the bull easily....and yet...<br />
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Pinterest is of the devil. It is brain-washing at its finest. I see pictures of families doing "fun" things and I think<br />
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"OH MY GOSH!! What a great idea! My kids would love to make hand-prints/use sensory bins/make Christmas cookies!"<br />
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I forget, that in reality, nothing actually looks like Pinterest. This is truth, sisters. I know. I have been sucked in to the deep, dark marketing hole that is that stupid site which I love. And I do it again and again and again. My innate cynicism about all things seems to fail when it comes to ideas from Pinterest.<br />
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My most recent stumble? Decorating Christmas cookies with small children. This is what I was promised:<br />
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Mom is so happy! The mess is neatly contained! The kids are enjoying themselves! WHAT A GREAT IDEA!! And don't even get me started on all the adorable cookie pictures of snowmen, Santa, gingerbread people, the delish frosted tress and wreaths. I relive wonderful cookie decorating memories of my childhood, what a delight to pass on such a fun tradition!<br />
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I tell the kids "we are making cookies!!" they are thrilled. "See, Pinterest TOTALLY comes through", I think to myself while dodging 4 short people in an attempt to organize ingredients. Kid #3 asks to crack the eggs and only drops half of one shell in the dough. Kid #4 decides to add just a touch more flour while mixer is going and dusts everything within a 10 foot radius in fine, white powder.<br />
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No problem! We are making memories!!<br />
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Flour swept up, egg shell retrieved, dough is ready to roll out. Each kid insists they will "help" with the rolling, taking turns, counting rolls, while I hold back my desire to edit. I mean, no biggie that half the dough is still 2 inches thick and the other has been smooshed into a transparent, sticky film. We can adjust it later.<br />
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Now the dough just needs to chill...for 2 hours.<br />
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Want to know the LONGEST way to spend 2 hours? Waiting for dough to chill with 4 children asking every 30 seconds if it is ready yet. Understandable, they are just so excited! "This is a good thing", I tell myself, as I set the oven timer for kids to watch. Cue 4 small children watching a timer count down...<br />
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Dough is ready and each child is given a bit to make there own cookies while I adjust the thickness to cookie level. Kid #1 meticulously rolls out dough. No one on the face of this planet has EVER taken more time to roll dough flat. Kid #2 promptly sticks her elbow in the middle of her sisters dough, causing eldest child to approach unhinged. Dough fixed, relationship repaired as kid 4 has massaged, flattened and abused his dough into a sticky paste that is now covering his hands. And face. And counter where he was working, despite the waxed paper. And the dough has taken on a suspicious gray color...I don't even want to know why. Pinterest must have left out the picture of the man-handled gray cookie dough rolled by 3 year olds.<br />
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Cookies are cut and baked (except the odd gray dough...it was tossed while #4 wasn't looking) And now the cookies must cool before we decorate. We prepare the stations: waxed paper, bowls of frosting, shakers of sprinkles! Yay! We could TOTALLY be a Pinterest family.<br />
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Each child chooses 5 cookies to decorate. But sister #1 took the cookie sister #3 wanted, so negotiation ensues. I might be raising at least one lawyer...and not the good kind...the kind you see on day time TV ads. Everyone is set...let the frosting begin!<br />
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Oh...my....GOD<br />
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Sister #1 is the worlds SLOWEST cookie decorator and would still be at it but she ran out of frosting. After perfecting a tree, she shows sister #2 who excitedly gestures with a frosting covered knife, promptly knocking the tree-cookie-masterpiece to the wall where it smears green frosting. Knife flinging sister also manages to get frosting in her hair.<br />
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Kid #4 alternates between smudging cookies with frosting, licking off the dripping cookies, and seeing how much colored sugar he can manage to stick to said saliva covered cookie. I make a mental note to NOT share these with friends...or anyone but him. Do you know what color green and red frosting make when mixed? A kind of poop brown. I now have 5 poop colored cookies that have been pre-licked.<br />
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Sister #3 knocks the colored sugar to the floor, and, when bending to retrieve it, manages to pull the keep-things-neat place-mat of waxed paper to the floor too. 5 cookies have now spent time on the floor among copious amount of sugar, chocolate chips, frosting drips, and various decorations.<br />
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I pour a glass of wine...for Christmas cheer of course. Are there really NO clumsy children on Pinterest?! Apparently not, because they all live at my house.<br />
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Sister #2 thinks sister #3 is using all the white, while sister #3 declares loudly that she is not the boss, kid #4 eats spoonfuls of white frosting. Sister #1 comments that my cookies are prettier than hers and proceeds to start pouting. Kids #4 has moved from frosting consumption to eating straight colored sugar.<br />
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I start wondering if it is too early to drink some festive whisky laced eggnog...you know...for Christmas Cheer.<br />
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Discuss with eldest that I have a few more years of cookie decorating under my belt than she has. Remove kid #4 from table as he shoves a handful of Chocolate chips into his mouth. He vibrates with sugar-high energy.<br />
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Daughters #1-3 finish the holiday cookie decorating. Green frosting is chiseled off the wall. Hair is washed free from rouge red frosting attack. All clothing worn is tossed in the laundry. I mutter curses to Pinterest pictures who have set crazy standards I will never hit.<br />
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That evening before bed, while enjoying freshly decorated cookies and hot coco we discuss our favorite parts of the day. Without fail, every kid remembers the cookie decorating fondly. HOW THE HELL IS THAT POSSIBLE? Were we not decorating cookies at the same house? Or maybe it is just me who missed the "Christmas Magic", after all, we listened to Christmas music, hung out with family, ate copious amounts of sugar, and...maybe made some Pinterest worthy memories after all.<br />
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<br />Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-21965705104900697612015-12-12T16:09:00.000-07:002015-12-14T20:12:07.999-07:00Gluten Free Sugar CookiesI have made some really crappy cookies in my life. Though this sounds a bit like it might be a metaphor (might have to explore that angle later...) in this case I am TRULY talking about cookies. For real.<br />
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I have been on a quest to make a good loaf of GF Sourdough and a good batch of sugar cut-out cookies. While the sourdough experiments have most recently ended with me uttering obscenities and tossing out very sketchy looking starter after making a multiple batches of rolls that could double as weapons, my cookie quest is now at an end for different reasons.<br />
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Friends, loved ones, blog followers....I HAVE NAILED IT. I made cookies that not only have a dough that is easy to work with, but stay soft baked, hold their shape when made into cut-outs, and taste delish. Also, this is a respectable size batch of cookies, so you won't spend 18 hours frosting the little friggin' snow men that your children insisted on cutting out. This batch makes about 2 dozen, give or take.<br />
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HA! Suck that, stupid celiac disease!!<br />
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Because I am a sharing person (and I don't want to have to share the ACTUAL cookies...I'm not that sharing) I will bless you all with the recipe. Your welcome. Now go and make copious amount of cookies to decorate.<br />
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<b><u><span style="font-size: large;">Gluten Free Cut-Out Cookies</span></u></b><br />
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1 cup butter<br />
1 cup sugar<br />
2 t. vanilla flavor<br />
1 t. almond flavor (not required, but tasty, trust me on this)<br />
2 eggs<br />
1/2 t. salt<br />
1/2 t. baking powder<br />
1 1/3 c. rice/GF oat flour<br />
1 1/3 c. starch (tapioca is best, but potato or corn will work)<br />
1/3 c. coconut flour<br />
1 1/2 t. xanthan gum<br />
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Mix all dry ingredients in bowl and set aside. Cream together butter and sugar. Add eggs one at a time. Add flavorings. With mixer on low add the dry ingredients. When all incorporated, scoop out onto a piece of waxed paper sprinkled with starch. Dough will be thick, heavy and a bit sticky. With slightly damp hands, pat flat, or roll out if it doesn't stick to badly to your rolling pin. Cool in fridge, on waxed paper (or, in my case, in the garage) until dough is very stiff. At least an hour, maybe a bit more. After dough is stiff and cold, use the rolling pin to get it to 1/4 inch thick and cut with cookie cutters. Place on cookie sheets and bake 8-10 minutes. Cookies should look dry on top, but not hardly any brown if you want them soft. Cool on sheets for 10 minutes until moving them to cooling rack. Cool all the way before decorating.Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-49326780475223458762015-11-16T12:49:00.000-07:002015-11-16T12:49:09.647-07:00Joy in Learning<br />
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I am an ADD homeschooler. Maybe all homeschoolers are a little bit. We have the unique ability to ebb and flow with the needs and space our family is in. In my best moments, I am organized but flexible with the attitude of "children will learn what they need to know if exposed to a variety of information in a way they can absorb". This is a very un-school mentality, and a general belief system of education that I subscribe to.<br />
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And then I freak out, sure my children will end up stupid with no future prospects and living in my basement playing Minecraft, dressing like My Little Pony and eating cheetos until the are 40.<br />
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This is not my best space. I make dumb choice in this space and drive my kids to do monotonous things they hate and pretty much act like a fun sponge, sucking all the joy from learning. This is usually triggered by hearing what my friends kids are doing in school, like math facts and spelling lists and required reading time.<br />
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I have started reading a<a href="http://taughtbyfinland.com/" target="_blank"> new blog</a> over the past couple of weeks, an American teacher who moved to Finland to live close to his wives family and now teaches over there. In case you haven't kept up, American schools don't test so well internationally, but Finland seems to hold its own pretty well and has for quite some time. So what do they have figured out that we seem to miss? Things like almost no testing until you FINISH HIGH SCHOOL. The don't teach children to read until age 7 unless they want to learn before. They have daily instruction in fine arts. Kids learn how to cook, budget, clean and other life skills.<br />
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Woah.<br />
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Most mind blowing? Teachers are allowed to teach in a way that they see is best, teachers work together to make lesson plans and, overall, teachers WORK LESS than American teachers with better outcomes. They are given goals like "a child should find joy in solving the equation". Joy. In math. Its a thing, people, a thing they work to develop.<br />
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Finland has figured out that testing helps no one and there is more than one kind of smart. They figured out children learn best from a place of JOY not fear of a test, or shame of failing, but in JOY OF LEARNING.<br />
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I am not sure why this is blowing my mind, I mean, I already try to parent from that head space. I try to remember that children in secure relationship generally want to please and have a joyful, peace filled home. Parenting from a space of intimidation, shame, and fear undermines our wiring of needing to have real, vulnerable relationship. And parenting is just teaching a kid how to be an adult, so why would any other learning be different?<br />
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I have yet to have a child who really gets the reading thing really quickly and easily. My kids struggle at it, work at it, and get frustrated. Maybe I suck at teaching reading. This is a distinct possibility, as I am the common denominator. Anyway, I have been successfully making reading miserable for one of my kids. We both hated it. Great job, mom.<br />
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Today, I remembered joy. We started with sight word bingo, went on to a picture/word card challenge for candy, and then used the pocket chart for math and science. Know what? I heard my kids giggling, challenging each other and helping the other one succeed. We were silly. When it came time to work on cursive, the kids finished in record time and they had JOY.<br />
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Why do I find this so hard to remember? I enjoyed my kids, the house was peaceful, they had fun and they learned. So this week, I choose joy in learning, and I will try to keep my math facts freak outs to a minimum.Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-32833826141361983212015-05-04T14:37:00.002-06:002015-05-04T14:37:31.841-06:00CrittersI watch him, king of his own back yard domain, stomping in his red rubber race car boots. White blond hair sticking up in all directions, shirt smeared with whatever happened to be on his hands. The chickens are smart enough to give him wide berth. But chickens have a short attention span and he is determined.<br />
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He sneaks, as quietly as his two year old body and sqeaky boots are able, and makes a grab for the chicken. Victoriously, he wrangles his feathered foe and carries it across the yard. Struggling under the weight and wriggling, he manages to hoist his conquest on to the hammock.<br />
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Back and forth he rocks the dismayed bird, singing at the top of his lungs. As the hammock slows, the chicken makes a break for it. Between fits of giggles, my boy scolds the flustered fowl and sets off to find a new "friend" to rock to sleep.<br />
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Inside my middelest daughter is snuggled in a chair, reading out loud, covered in blankets. The lumps under the fabric move and shift until two tiny orange kitten faces appear. She rubs the furry heads and tucks them in as she continues her book.<br />
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In the kitchen, the eldest child is cracking up. Amidst the laughing and quacking I see her teaching the duckling to drink from a cup. The duckling thrusts his head all the way down, pulls it out with a bill full of water and a loud quack and repeats. There is water all over the floor and the child.<br />
<br />
My youngest daughter is rummaging in the fridge, looking for carrots for her and Rodeo to share. I have ceased trying to explain why it is gross to share a snack with a guinea pig and am just grateful the animal and the child are eating a healthy snack.<br />
<br />
This is the chaos that causes my mother to roll her eyes and comment on the smell of kittens when she comes to my house. This is one of the many reasons my home will never be picture perfect and is often just above livable. This is why I do obscene amounts of laundry, clean poop off of the floor and vacuum up mud out of the carpet several times a week. My choice to live with critters (and children) make my life more complicated, I get that.<br />
<br />
I also know that my children get some things that there friends whos homes are critter free will never understand. My kids know that it doesn't matter if you don't feel like feeding kittens, they are counting on you to be fed. My children know that life is fragile and death is part of the journey. My kids know that the fun of pets is balanced by the work it takes to keep them clean and healthy. Our animals teach responsibility, hard work, faithfulness and cooperation.<br />
<br />
My life would be simpler without pets, no question. It would also be less rich. And, lets be honest here, a life with 4 small children is never going to be simple, so we might as well embrace to madness.Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-67310477350707598542015-02-03T15:42:00.000-07:002015-02-03T15:42:20.299-07:00Good MommyTuesday morning. At our house, this means swimming lessons. Specifically, it means corralling 3 little girls into swimming suits, braiding 3 heads of hair, grabbing 3 towels and enough snacks to keep a non-swimming 2 year old from coming unhinged while at the pool. We have this system down fairly well, and despite the fact it looks like we are packing for a week long trip across the country, we manage to make it to the pool every Tuesday.<br />
<br />
This particular day, the boy was feeling very...two. Opinionated. Obstanent. Infuriating. Pick your "describes a two year old" word. He was that, big personality, little patience, lots of feelings, little control. Most of the time, this little blond dude can roll with the punches and is an enjoyable member of our little tribe. But today? Yeah, not so much.<br />
<br />
We pull up to the pool, disembark from Doug (the Durango) and head for the pool.<br />
<br />
"Mama, I need up"<br />
<br />
In my hands I have my purse, my cup of coffee that I haven't had time to drink despite the fact it is closer to lunch than breakfast, a swimming bag and a partridge in a pear tree. Ok, so maybe not that last one, but I was feeling full on Sherpa already.<br />
<br />
"Bud, my hands are all full, you are going to have to walk, sister can hold your hand"<br />
<br />
Commence full-on melt down.<br />
<br />
I send the girls on their way, seeing that this will not soon be over. They run in, as not to be late for their lessons as I get comfortable on a bench. Two year old is now laying, flailing and screaming on the sidewalk. I sip my coffee as nice little old ladies give me a look; part pity, part "get that kid under control".<br />
<br />
I think how glad I am that it is fairly warm and dry outside, this would be really miserable if it was wet and cold and I am desperately trying to find the silver lining. Sip more coffee, try not to feel embarrassed as yet another group of people walk by my flailing toddler on the sidewalk.<br />
<br />
I try and talk to him, despite my rule that I "never argue with a drunk" even when it is just a kid who is drunk on big emotion. I try and help him calm down, he isn't having it. I tell him I need to go in to help sisters and I would love for him to come. I walk in the door, he screams louder, but at least he is up and following me now.<br />
<br />
Upon entry, I realize how good the acoustics of the rec center are. The eardrum busting screaming reverberates throughout the lobby, every eye is our direction. I grit my teeth and take a breath, determined not to let him make me come unglued. I get on his level, look him in the eye, and speak quietly. I let him know I have a snack for him as soon as we are watching sisters swim, but we can't have it until he is calm. There is no screaming at the pool, it is too distracting to the kids who are trying to swim.<br />
<br />
A nice lady trys to talk to him, she brings him some sunglasses to try and distract him. He screams "NO!" and covers his head. Oh boy, here I am, mom of the year, with the kid who yells at nice strangers. I thank her and apologize. <br />
<br />
Boy is officially beyond the point he is able to get himself under control. I ask him if I may pick him up and rub his back and sing. He sobbingly nods his sweaty blond head, face blotchy, breathing ragged. I scoop him up and he calms down in my arms. I whisper in his ear, asking if he would like to try again. He nods and walks by my side into the locker room and pool. I avoid eye contact with all those who were witness to the nucular loosing-of-the-shit the my two year old just inflicted.<br />
<br />
My blood pressure is high, my patience is thin, my coffee is cold and I feel like I am done parenting for the day and it isn't yet 10 a.m. In my head I remind myself that he is only two and has big feelings, just like his daddy. I refresh my memory, knowing that he owns his feelings, not me. It is my job as his mama to teaching him what to do, not what to feel. I watch my budding swimmers, as the little man munches an apple next to me, and I tell myself that his learning behaviors is just like his sisters learning the back stroke. She sinks as often as she floats, it just takes a lot of practice and doing it wrong before you get it right.<br />
<br />
Swimming is over. The big girls change, the little guy makes comments about all the naked old ladies in the locker room (*sigh*) and we head back to the car. As we pass the front desk, the lady who works at the front and was witness to the meltdown calls out,<br />
<br />
"Hey, you are a really good mommy. You know that, right?"<br />
<br />
I smile and thank her, stating that it doesn't always feel that way. She repeats that I am doing a good job and my children are blessed to have me. I walk to the car with tears in my eyes, not feeling like a good mama but at least feeling like I will live to fight another day.<br />
<br />
So to the dear front desk woman, I would like to say a heart felt "thank you" from a mommy who doesn't always feel like the end game is worth the daily grind. Your kindness, lack of judgement and words of encouragement mean the world to me. One day, when I witness a mama struggling at the front lines of motherhood, I hope to handle it with such love and grace.<br />
<br />
<br />Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-6521815136951192692015-01-28T09:02:00.002-07:002015-01-28T09:02:51.404-07:00Breakfast with toddlersAt 5:45 I am joined in bed by a small, blond man who insists on putting his cold toes on my warm back. I ignore him until 6:30 when his insistent "Is it wake up time yet?" for the 20 time becomes too much to bare. Stumble downstairs and start a pot of coffee.<br />
<br />
J- "Mama, I'm hungry"<br />
M- "Sure buddy, what kind of cereal do you want?"<br />
J- "I don't want cereal, I want eggs"<br />
M- "Ok, scrambled?"<br />
J- "No, dipping ones. With toast"<br />
<br />
10 minutes of food prep, with constant commentary and questioning if it was ready yet. Hand him one egg and a piece of toast.<br />
<br />
J-"Its hot. Blow it, please?"<br />
<br />
Spend 5 minutes of blowing on eggs and toast until toddler thinks it is safe<br />
<br />
J- "Toast is icky. I just want the egg."<br />
<br />
Sister walks in and asks for cheerios. I pour her a bowl, top with blueberries, she says "thanks" and proceeds to eat.<br />
<br />
J- " I want cereal!"<br />
M- " Buddy, you asked for eggs. Mama made you eggs. Eat those first, if you are still hungry you may have cereal"<br />
J- "NOOOO! Eggs are icky. I want O's!"<br />
Sister- "I will eat J's eggs and toast"<br />
M- "Fine, if sister wants your eggs, I will make you cereal"<br />
<br />
I get another bowl. Pour cereal and milk, hand it to the tiny dictator.<br />
<br />
J- " Blueberries please"<br />
M- "On top or next to?"<br />
J- " On top!"<br />
<br />
I walk away to pour a cup of coffee, heaven knows I need it. Turn around to see a blueberries in a puddle of milk on the counter.<br />
<br />
M- "Soooo, what cha' do here?<br />
J- " I don't like them in cereal. Please take them out"<br />
M- "For real?!"<br />
<br />
Spend 5 minutes scooping blueberries out of bowl of cereal. Two minutes later, Toddler leaves table.<br />
<br />
M- "Hey, come eat your cereal!"<br />
J- " No thank you, I'm not really hungry"<br />
<br />
I add a shot of whiskey to my coffee. Don't judge me, bro. Spend next 10 minutes scrambling an egg, slicing sharp cheddar, toasting a bagel and cooking a sausage patty. Assemble a delish looking breakfast sandwich. Toddler returns from pestering sisters.<br />
<br />
J- "What is that, mama?"<br />
M- "A sandwich, for MY breakfast"<br />
J- " Can I have a little bite, please?"<br />
M- *sigh* " Sure, buddy"<br />
<br />
Toddler proceeds to eat enough of my breakfast that I am still hungry, but not so much that I can justify making breakfast number 2. I pour more coffee, with a little more whisky. Count the hours until lunch.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-42124683473636582072015-01-26T14:53:00.000-07:002015-01-26T14:54:40.676-07:00EntitlementI did it, the thing I said I would NEVER do. I have raised entitled children.<br />
<br />
It started innocently enough. I like to eat, and therefore, place high value on cooking. Add that to being gluten free and I have spent many hours in my kitchen.<br />
<br />
It is family ritual to sit together every evening and enjoy hot coco and cookies. The other night, I committed the unforgivable sin (at least in my entitled children s eyes) and I served gluten free OREOS. Not a home baked slice of caramel apple cake or a snickerdoodle fresh from the oven, but a boxed-neatly-in-a-row cookie from the store.<br />
<br />
This is when I realized that my children have reached a dangerous level of home-baked cookie entitlement. We have several types of store bought treats including, but not limited to, candy, cookies, wafers and newtons. All of these are stored at kid-can-reach level, but they remain mostly untouched.<br />
<br />
Alas, they are ruined, but I guess I am too.<br />
<br />
It is hard to beat a fresh from the oven treat. This morning I noticed the last of the ginger cookies and cake were gone and knowing that evening cookie and coco time will be here soon, I got to baking. Todays treat?<br />
<br />
MONSTER COOKIES!<br />
<br />
I grew up eating these jems and they remain a favorite. Maybe because they hold so many of my favorite things like chocolate candies, peanut butter chips, oatmeal and peanut butter. They stay soft and chewy, are sturdy enough to pack in a lunch box, and the dough freezes well in case you don't want to make (and eat!) them all right away.<br />
<br />
Today I made them with cashew butter and OMG!<br />
<br />
<img src="http://justataste.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/picture-2.png" height="291" width="400" /><br />
<br />
Just in case you, too, have children who feel entitled to home baked yummy-ness, let me impart my favorite recipe. I do reduce the sugar to 2 cups total, and replace the peanut butter with cashew/sun/favorite nutbutter. I also leave out the corn syrup.<br />
<br />
<div data-currentservings="72" data-originalservings="72" id="zoneIngredients" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; clear: both; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<div class="ingred-left" style="border: 0px; float: left; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 415px;">
<h3 style="border: 0px; color: #4e4e4f; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: 1px; margin: 23px 0px 13px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
MONSTER COOKIES (from allrecipes)</h3>
<h3 style="border: 0px; color: #4e4e4f; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: 1px; margin: 23px 0px 13px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Ingredients <a class="linkRequiresSupportingMembership linkRequirementNextStepIsSamePage featureHintCustomRecipe" evar3="Customize Recipe" href="http://allrecipes.com/My/RecipeBox/CustomRecipes/AddEdit.aspx?recipeID=10684&new=1&p34=Edit%20Recipe&origin=detail" id="lnkCustomVersion" style="border: 0px; color: #0091ce; font-size: 11px; font-weight: 500; letter-spacing: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;">Edit and Save</a></h3>
<div class="servings" style="border: 0px; float: left; line-height: 24px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 10px; position: relative;">
<span class="emph-text" style="border: 0px; color: #2d2d2d; display: inline-block; float: left; font-family: Georgia; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">Original recipe makes <span id="lblYield" itemprop="recipeYield" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">6 - 7 dozen</span></span><a class="small-text" href="https://www.blogger.com/null" id="changeServings" style="border: 0px; color: #0091ce; display: inline-block; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 1px 0px 0px 5px;">Change Servings</a></div>
<ul class="ingredient-wrap" style="border: 0px; float: left; list-style: none; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; width: 200px;">
<li data-grams="150" data-ingredientid="16317" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient" style="border: 0px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 5px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; width: 200px;"><label style="border: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="checkbox-formatted" style="border: 0px; display: inline-block; float: left; height: 23px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 25px;"><input id="cbxIngredient" name="ctl00$CenterColumnPlaceHolder$recipeTest$recipe$ingredients$rptIngredientsCol1$ctl01$cbxIngredient" type="checkbox" /></span><div class="fl-ing" itemprop="ingredients" style="border: 0px; color: black; float: left; margin-bottom: 4px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 175px;">
<span class="ingredient-amount" id="lblIngAmount" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">3</span> <span class="ingredient-name" id="lblIngName" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">eggs</span></div>
</label></li>
<li data-grams="330" data-ingredientid="1525" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient" style="border: 0px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 5px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; width: 200px;"><label style="border: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="checkbox-formatted" style="border: 0px; display: inline-block; float: left; height: 23px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 25px;"><input id="cbxIngredient" name="ctl00$CenterColumnPlaceHolder$recipeTest$recipe$ingredients$rptIngredientsCol1$ctl02$cbxIngredient" type="checkbox" /></span><div class="fl-ing" itemprop="ingredients" style="border: 0px; color: black; float: left; margin-bottom: 4px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 175px;">
<span class="ingredient-amount" id="lblIngAmount" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">1 1/2 cups</span> <span class="ingredient-name" id="lblIngName" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">packed brown sugar</span></div>
</label></li>
<li data-grams="200" data-ingredientid="1526" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient" style="border: 0px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 5px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; width: 200px;"><label style="border: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="checkbox-formatted" style="border: 0px; display: inline-block; float: left; height: 23px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 25px;"><input id="cbxIngredient" name="ctl00$CenterColumnPlaceHolder$recipeTest$recipe$ingredients$rptIngredientsCol1$ctl03$cbxIngredient" type="checkbox" /></span><div class="fl-ing" itemprop="ingredients" style="border: 0px; color: black; float: left; margin-bottom: 4px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 175px;">
<span class="ingredient-amount" id="lblIngAmount" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">1 cup</span> <span class="ingredient-name" id="lblIngName" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">white sugar</span></div>
</label></li>
<li data-grams="4.333333" data-ingredientid="16424" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient" style="border: 0px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 5px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; width: 200px;"><label style="border: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="checkbox-formatted" style="border: 0px; display: inline-block; float: left; height: 23px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 25px;"><input id="cbxIngredient" name="ctl00$CenterColumnPlaceHolder$recipeTest$recipe$ingredients$rptIngredientsCol1$ctl04$cbxIngredient" type="checkbox" /></span><div class="fl-ing" itemprop="ingredients" style="border: 0px; color: black; float: left; margin-bottom: 4px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 175px;">
<span class="ingredient-amount" id="lblIngAmount" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">1 teaspoon</span> <span class="ingredient-name" id="lblIngName" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">vanilla extract</span></div>
</label></li>
<li data-grams="6.828194" data-ingredientid="1534" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient" style="border: 0px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 5px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; width: 200px;"><label style="border: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="checkbox-formatted" style="border: 0px; display: inline-block; float: left; height: 23px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 25px;"><input id="cbxIngredient" name="ctl00$CenterColumnPlaceHolder$recipeTest$recipe$ingredients$rptIngredientsCol1$ctl05$cbxIngredient" type="checkbox" /></span><div class="fl-ing" itemprop="ingredients" style="border: 0px; color: black; float: left; margin-bottom: 4px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 175px;">
<span class="ingredient-amount" id="lblIngAmount" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">1 teaspoon</span> <span class="ingredient-name" id="lblIngName" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">corn syrup</span></div>
</label></li>
<li data-grams="9.2" data-ingredientid="2359" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient" style="border: 0px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 5px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; width: 200px;"><label style="border: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="checkbox-formatted" style="border: 0px; display: inline-block; float: left; height: 23px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 25px;"><input id="cbxIngredient" name="ctl00$CenterColumnPlaceHolder$recipeTest$recipe$ingredients$rptIngredientsCol1$ctl06$cbxIngredient" type="checkbox" /></span><div class="fl-ing" itemprop="ingredients" style="border: 0px; color: black; float: left; margin-bottom: 4px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 175px;">
<span class="ingredient-amount" id="lblIngAmount" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">2 teaspoons</span> <span class="ingredient-name" id="lblIngName" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">baking soda</span></div>
</label></li>
</ul>
<ul class="ingredient-wrap secondColumn" style="border: 0px; float: left; list-style: none; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; width: 200px;">
<li data-grams="113.5" data-ingredientid="16157" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient" style="border: 0px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 5px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; width: 200px;"><label style="border: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="checkbox-formatted" style="border: 0px; display: inline-block; float: left; height: 23px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 25px;"><input id="cbxIngredient" name="ctl00$CenterColumnPlaceHolder$recipeTest$recipe$ingredients$rptIngredientsCol2$ctl01$cbxIngredient" type="checkbox" /></span><div class="fl-ing" itemprop="ingredients" style="border: 0px; color: black; float: left; margin-bottom: 4px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 175px;">
<span class="ingredient-amount" id="lblIngAmount" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">1/2 cup</span> <span class="ingredient-name" id="lblIngName" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">butter</span></div>
</label></li>
<li data-grams="387" data-ingredientid="2858" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient" style="border: 0px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 5px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; width: 200px;"><label style="border: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="checkbox-formatted" style="border: 0px; display: inline-block; float: left; height: 23px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 25px;"><input id="cbxIngredient" name="ctl00$CenterColumnPlaceHolder$recipeTest$recipe$ingredients$rptIngredientsCol2$ctl02$cbxIngredient" type="checkbox" /></span><div class="fl-ing" itemprop="ingredients" style="border: 0px; color: black; float: left; margin-bottom: 4px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 175px;">
<span class="ingredient-amount" id="lblIngAmount" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">1 1/2 cups</span> <span class="ingredient-name" id="lblIngName" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">peanut butter</span></div>
</label></li>
<li data-grams="364.5" data-ingredientid="6057" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient" style="border: 0px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 5px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; width: 200px;"><label style="border: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="checkbox-formatted" style="border: 0px; display: inline-block; float: left; height: 23px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 25px;"><input id="cbxIngredient" name="ctl00$CenterColumnPlaceHolder$recipeTest$recipe$ingredients$rptIngredientsCol2$ctl03$cbxIngredient" type="checkbox" /></span><div class="fl-ing" itemprop="ingredients" style="border: 0px; color: black; float: left; margin-bottom: 4px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 175px;">
<span class="ingredient-amount" id="lblIngAmount" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">4 1/2 cups</span> <span class="ingredient-name" id="lblIngName" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">rolled oats</span></div>
</label></li>
<li data-grams="168" data-ingredientid="1338" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient" style="border: 0px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 5px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; width: 200px;"><label style="border: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="checkbox-formatted" style="border: 0px; display: inline-block; float: left; height: 23px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 25px;"><input id="cbxIngredient" name="ctl00$CenterColumnPlaceHolder$recipeTest$recipe$ingredients$rptIngredientsCol2$ctl04$cbxIngredient" type="checkbox" /></span><div class="fl-ing" itemprop="ingredients" style="border: 0px; color: black; float: left; margin-bottom: 4px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 175px;">
<span class="ingredient-amount" id="lblIngAmount" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">1 cup</span> <span class="ingredient-name" id="lblIngName" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">semisweet chocolate chips</span></div>
</label></li>
<li data-grams="208" data-ingredientid="1392" data-role="recipe-ingredient" id="liIngredient" style="border: 0px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 5px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; width: 200px;"><label style="border: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="checkbox-formatted" style="border: 0px; display: inline-block; float: left; height: 23px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 25px;"><input id="cbxIngredient" name="ctl00$CenterColumnPlaceHolder$recipeTest$recipe$ingredients$rptIngredientsCol2$ctl05$cbxIngredient" type="checkbox" /></span><div class="fl-ing" itemprop="ingredients" style="border: 0px; color: black; float: left; margin-bottom: 4px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 175px;">
<span class="ingredient-amount" id="lblIngAmount" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">1 cup</span> <span class="ingredient-name" id="lblIngName" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">candy-coated milk chocolate pieces</span></div>
</label></li>
</ul>
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<div class="directions" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; clear: left; color: #666666; float: left; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; margin: 10px 0px 20px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; width: 400px;">
<h3 style="border: 0px; color: #4e4e4f; float: left; font-size: 14px; letter-spacing: 1px; margin: 23px 0px 13px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Directions</h3>
<div class="directLeft" itemprop="recipeInstructions" style="border: 0px; float: left; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<ol style="border: 0px; float: left; list-style: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px -5px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 35px 0px 25px;">
<li style="border: 0px; font-weight: bold; list-style-type: decimal; margin: 0px 0px 14px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="plaincharacterwrap break" style="border: 0px; color: #4e4e4f; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).</span></li>
<li style="border: 0px; font-weight: bold; list-style-type: decimal; margin: 0px 0px 14px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="plaincharacterwrap break" style="border: 0px; color: #4e4e4f; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">In a very large bowl, beat the eggs.</span></li>
<li style="border: 0px; font-weight: bold; list-style-type: decimal; margin: 0px 0px 14px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="plaincharacterwrap break" style="border: 0px; color: #4e4e4f; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">Add the remaining ingredients in order, mixing well.</span></li>
<li style="border: 0px; font-weight: bold; list-style-type: decimal; margin: 0px 0px 14px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span class="plaincharacterwrap break" style="border: 0px; color: #4e4e4f; font-weight: normal; line-height: 17px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; word-wrap: break-word;">Use an ice cream scoop to put on ungreased cookie sheet. Bake for 12 to 15 minutes.</span></li>
</ol>
</div>
</div>
Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-45965264293202053752014-11-02T14:53:00.001-07:002014-11-02T14:53:26.254-07:00Endings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
My husband thought I was nuts, he told me it was going to be "my thing" and he wanted no part. Being me, I did it anyway.<br />
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A childhood friend with a huge heart got herself into animal rescue. She put out an SOS on Facebook in need of foster home for kittens. The job description? Love on a couple cute balls of fluff until they are big enough to get fixed and find forever families. This seemed like the perfect gig; all the kitten loves with none of the cat ownership.<br />
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I will never forget our first litter. My friend brought us two fluffy balls of orange fur. I am not sure God has ever created anything as heart melting as 4 week old orange kittens. My tough talking husband was smitten, my daughters in love. We loved our month with those babies, and while we were sad to see them go, we felt we had done a good thing for the world in assisting those babies in finding there forever home.<br />
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Not all rescue stories are this happy.<br />
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The thing about rescue is you don't get to pick. You are the very last chance for most animal coming your way. They greet you malnourished, traumatized, sick and alone. Many have hearts strong enough to bounce back and they become some of the worlds most amazing pets. Like my friends rescue says, the best things in life are rescued, but the stories are not all happy endings.<br />
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I have watched many a litter removed from a mama too soon, who just can't seem to thrive on goat milk or kitten formula. They waste away, too tired, too sick, and too weak to fight anymore. Kitten mortality is high with healthy cats, and these are not even granted that gift at birth.<br />
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Sometime having to say goodbye comes as a surprise. This was the case with Evie.<br />
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I got the call on an afternoon a couple of weeks ago. A small, dark gray kitten needed a second chance or would be put down by that afternoon. Of course, we said yes. She came to us thin and hungry, still not quite big enough to figure out eating from a dish. She was fed warm milk and thinned cat food from a spoon until she mastered the bowl.<br />
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Despite being fed several times a day, being loved on, snuggled, and carried around like a furry baby doll, Evie wasn't growing. Her ribs could be felt through her fur, she didn't want to play. We wondered if she missed her litter, and the only way she would eat was with encouragement.<br />
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Hoping a few buddies might boost her moral, we took on a rolly polly litter of 4. The difference between the kittens was drastic, they were high energy with round little bellies and LOUD cries if they felt they had gone too long without snuggles. Evie had to be encouraged to drink warm milk,<br />
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On Tuesday, Matt held Evie, wrapped in a warm blanket as she took her last breath. Her face and eye were distorted on one side and we will never know what it was she was fighting. We couldn't save this little ball of fluff, her story didn't have a happy ending with a forever family.<br />
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Days like that I just want to quit. And then I hear the emphatic meow's coming from downstairs. The other 4 kittens, begging for loves, whos whole bodies vibrate with purrrrrrrr's as you pick them up.<br />
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I watched Eliana reading her book with a kitten the other day. The kitten didn't appreciate her divided attention and kept sitting on the pages meowing or trying to bit Elianas nose and lips. He pounced on her long hair and burrowed down her shirt until she finally put the book down and gave him his undivided attention. He purrrred his pleasure and feel promptly asleep in her arms.<br />
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I remember the mama cat who liked to hide her litter of kittens in my shoes in the closet. Or the mama who brought her 4 kittens into Matt's lap every morning to nurse them while he drank his coffee. I remember the ones who play chase around the living room and wait at the bottom of the stairs to attack your feet. The ones who sleep in our laps, purr on our shoulders and prefer to eat from our hands.<br />
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<br />
And I decide it isn't time to quit just yet. I don't choose how these stories end, that is left to Someone far above my pay-grade. I only get to decide on how a single chapter in this story looks, the one where they come in our home. They are loved, held, fed, doctored to the best of our ability and held with open hands.<br />
<br />Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-27268957847396328242014-10-21T21:41:00.001-06:002014-10-21T21:41:28.965-06:00Brain StuffI have always been the kid with the messy room. My mother, bless her, did her damnedest to teach me to be neat and tidy, but to no avail. I come from a beautiful home. My mother had not only a knack for decorating, but for home making in general. Our house was clean, lovely, well stocked and a great place to be. Except for my room, which always looked like a closet vomited on the floor and a pissed off bookshelf chucked its contents out of anger. I lost things, didn't turn in home work if I even knew what it was, and generally just squeaked by.<br />
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At some point in my adulthood, I realized my brain worked differently than other peoples. Where some people had no problem keeping things like bills, laundry and general life in order, it was was a ton of work for me and I rarely kept things to the standard I had in my head from growing up.<br />
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Convinced I just lacked a good "system" I attempted to solve this problem like I attack all things I am faced with; the power of information. I was a hard worker, I just needed to work smarter! I read books, joined web site, made vows and promises, I keep lists, make schedules, hire people.<br />
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Several years ago, I realized something else about myself, and <a href="http://m.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2013/04/adhd-is-different-for-women/381158/" target="_blank">THIS</a> explains it better than anything I would be able to write. Given a name for what I struggled with helped, but it didn't change the fact I defined so many aspects of who I am by what I was constantly failing at.<br />
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Knowing my brain short circuits is no excuse, it means I have to work harder and smarter at things that come pretty naturally for other people. I HAVE to keep a list. I have developed pretty decent coping skills and now live at a just above hovel, but not fit for company, state most of the time.<br />
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Until...<br />
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Until my life gets full and things get stressful. My coping skills just can't keep up and pieces start to hit the deck. Projects are half finished, things are neglected, and I become too frazzled for my self talk to convince me that I deserve some grace. Until I had children, these things generally only affected me and sometimes Matt. Post children I watch my inability to cope hurt those I love most in the world.<br />
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I generally self-medicate with caffeine. When your brain is wired like mine, caffeine doesn't cause jitters as much as it brings clarity. I drink a ton, to the tune of 8-12 cups in a day. This allows me some ability to focus, stay on task and make it through a day. It also makes my brain have a hard time shutting down for sleep. It can be an ugly cycle.<br />
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My sweet hubby asked me to talk to my doc about this (because I was driving him just a little crazy), knowing I wasn't in an awesome place and there are some great drugs out there that are SO much better on my system than a pot of coffee. I scheduled the appointment, told my doc what it was for and was seen in office where she told me that they don't treat ADHD, which she agreed I struggled with, but she would be happy to give me some phone numbers of Psychologists who would. And she charged me $75.<br />
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My insurance sucks and no Psychologists are covered so I would be paying cash to the tune of $250 a visit to speak with these people. Oh, and none of them can see me for at least 6 weeks if they are even taking new patients at all.<br />
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Back to the coffee pot it is.<br />
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So what is the point of this post? I am not sure really. Part venting a broken system, and part a "coming out" as very few people in my life know that I am ADHD. I don't fit what most people think of when they picture a person who struggles with this, I don't fit the picture in my head either.<br />
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So here is to coffee and grace, playing the hand you are dealt with as much dignity as you can muster. And to kindness granted to those who seem like they just can't keep their shit together, as you never know the battle someone might be fighting.Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-32749332545932327012014-08-27T21:10:00.000-06:002014-10-21T21:43:21.190-06:00Anomaly This is the time of year my facebook feed fills with expressions of "OMG, my children need to go back to school NOW before I kill them!". One of my favorite bloggers, Jen Hatmaker, has a hilarious post to that effect. Everyone seems done with summer.<br />
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Except me.<br />
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It is strange to be the only one not counting the days until school starts. I mean, I am excited for my kids to start up again, the one day a week that they go, because they LOVE the program that they are a part of and can't wait to see their friends. So I am happy to see them off, but I will miss them.<br />
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This makes me wonder why I am such an anomaly. Maybe it is because we have never really done the "leave for school and gone all day" thing. Maybe it is because only 2 of the 4 are even school age, and they are my helpful two, so I am not sure why I would WANT them gone all day.<br />
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Earlier this week, Matt caught me on the edge of breakdown. School starts next week and we are headed to sunny California and I had yet to plan our school year. I looked at my "to-do" list and decided it would take an act of God. The sweet man rose to the occasion and took all the kiddos down to his moms for two nights.<br />
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The last few day have been the most productive of the year. I did stuff. It stayed done. I cooked for no one, not even me. I h. ave eaten an entire box of cereal, as I have had it for every meal. I made lesson plans that will last me to Christmas (give or take).<br />
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And that is when it hit me: I like homeschooling. It is no longer just the option I took because a better one hadn't presented itself. I really enjoy it. I am looking forward to the books we are going to read out loud. I am excited about the science experiments. I like our math curriculum and classroom set up.<br />
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So this is why; this is why I am an anomaly. I don't need to be rid of the small people, I really like them most days. I like that I am the one to teach them to read, to explain where Egypt is and work on skip counting. I like the rhythm of our days, both in the care free summer and the scheduled school year. And I get why parents are looking forward to the school year, it feels good to feel good about what you. have in store for your children.<br />
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So here is to new pencils, new books and new adventures, be they at home or away. Happy new school year!Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-16157477911386126192014-06-17T21:56:00.000-06:002014-06-17T21:56:00.686-06:00Dirt and Deep thoughts<div>
Some people hear God at church. Others, while reading the bible and praying. Some meditate. I have a friend who said he heard God best while sky diving. God is cool like that. You don't have to sit in a pew to hear his wisdom. Today, Him and I hung out while I was in the dirt.</div>
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We moved into this house at the end of last summer. We busted our hind ends to get painting, carpet, hardwood, etc....all done before we moved in. And then there was school. And a new company. And a new job and new classes to both teach and take. Something had to give and that thing happened to be our yard.<div>
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<div>
Matt is not a yard work guy. He pretty much hates it. Lucky for us, it was the end of the growing season so we could neglect our landscaping (or lack there of) without too much chaos over-taking anything. As things started to green up this summer, we got to see how truly "in the weeds" we really were.</div>
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First I tackled my garden. 3 new garden boxes built, weed cloth, mulch, path stones and a little bit of fencing made my garden something I could be proud of. I planted a few pots of flowers. We ranked. Matt mowed.</div>
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And then there were the bushes.</div>
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Sadly enough, we couldn't even really tell if they were alive. Now, mid-June, they are green-ish. So today, I tackled the bushes. If it wasn't green, it got cut. If it was green but growing the wrong way, it got cut. If it needed to be thinned, it got cut. I have a huge pile of cuttings in my yard.</div>
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As I cut and pulled and shaped and pruned my mind wandered. I can see how gardens are accurate metaphors for life and God and I had a nice little chat.</div>
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<div>
Take my rose bush. First, there was all the dead stuff that needed to be cut out. It seems obvious we need to remove things that don't grow from our life, but it still hurt to grab the thorny branches to cut them out. And then there was the one branch with a little rose on it, I was tempted to let it be. The problem is it was growing in the wrong direction. It was growing away from the trellis and if I had left it, it would have grown larger and pulled the whole bush the wrong way. Life is like that some time. Things that are "good" are not always "best" and eventually get us moving in a way that isn't healthy. </div>
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The branch also hung close to the swing that my children love. Roses are thorny and could give you quite the scratch if you ran into it. The rose bush has to share its space with a bunch of other things, just like we do. Sometimes the things that are good or easy for us can really cause problems for those we have to live with.</div>
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My lilac bush was in just as bad of shape. Full of dead branches underneath that kept it from being able to grow in a healthy way, even though from the outside it looks really green and healthy. We can be like that too, looking like we have it all together on the outside when underneath we have all kinds of things we have not cleared out. Resentment, frustrations at life not going the way we planned, anger, hurt, and pride. All of this makes us stagnant and keeps us from being the beautiful things we could be. </div>
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The top of my bush is very tall, I am going to have to wait for some assistants before I can trim it. That happens in my life, too. Somethings are just to big for me to deal with by myself, I have to ask for help if I really want to be healthy.</div>
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I came in from the yard dirty and sweaty, scratched up and tired but somehow my soul just felt refreshed. God is cool with hanging out with us while we are working in the dirt. He is good like that.</div>
Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-33072123929550400862014-06-15T21:33:00.000-06:002014-06-15T21:33:25.028-06:00THAT ParentWe live smack dab in the middle of suburbia. Houses close together with yards back to back mean that occasionally we inadvertently get up in other peoples business.<br />
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This crosses my mind on those nice evenings when we have all our windows open and I am shouting things like "stop licking your sister!" and "for the love of all things holy, put on some underwear!". Most the time, things are pretty good at our house. Our kids, for the most part, are nice little humans. I am not much of a yell-er when angry and am more prone to getting dangerously quiet. If you asked our neighbors, I am relatively certain we would land somewhere in the "normal" category.<br />
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When only hearing snippets of other peoples lives, it is easy to get a little judgey.<br />
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Like the time one of our neighbors locked his wife out of the house while yelling things not fit to print. In front of there 3 little kids.<br />
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Or like tonight, when I could hear a neighbor screaming at her son that he was an asshole and asking if he was too retarded to do what she had requested.<br />
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It would be easy to call these parenting fails, and, well, they are. But we are not immune, we all have our ugly moments that we hope no one notices.<br />
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The truth is parenting is hard, relentless, and holds up a magnifying glass to all our character weaknesses. We say things we don't mean, we crush small people who are just learning how to be big, we are unkind and disrespectful.<br />
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The open window is such a good reminder for me to think before I act and speak. Not that I am overly concerned about my neighbors impressions of my parenting skills, but because I am very concerned about being a good mom. I WANT to remember to temper my tongue. I WANT to think before my actions or words are reckless and damaging. I want this because my children deserve to have a mom who is giving it her best shot, not that I think I will always be spot on.<br />
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So here is to open windows in my house; to speaking with respect to all people, especially the little ones under this roof. My children will grow up to do what they have seen, not just what they have been told, and I want to give them the best shot that I am able.<br />
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<br />Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-51906170242170086252014-03-13T23:00:00.004-06:002014-03-13T23:00:53.225-06:00Mini Freak outs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There is a child in my house who has a hell of a time sitting still. Actually, I have a couple of those, it is just that this one is "school age" and therefore is expected to sit nicely on her behind and do...stuff.<br />
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I am a bi-polar homeschooler. I have days when I remember that I keep my kids at home because I like them and I have fun teaching them. I remember that I am giving them the gift of a childhood not lived sitting at a desk, the freedom to learn at there own pace and follow their unique gifts and interests. And then I get on Facebook or go to a friends house and see the test scores and worksheets and nicely completed, holiday appropriate crafts on the fridge. I have a mini freak out moment and make my kid-who-hates-sitting glue her butt to a chair and crank out handwriting worksheets.<br />
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Today, I read<a href="http://truthabouteducation.wordpress.com/2014/03/06/the-disturbing-transformation-of-kindergarten/" target="_blank"> this</a>.<br />
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I love when science backs my play.<br />
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Reading this reminds me that the reason I love our family's choice to homeschool. I love that I don't have to make Little Miss Wiggle Butt perform to some standard set buy a dude she will never meet and who couldn't give a rip about the things that are important to her. I have the ability to RESPECT my kid, and where she happens to be in this moment, and it is good.<br />
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Today was freak out free. We played princess zookeepers and had a great conversation about why the lions and the giraffes needed separate play-dough cages. We discussed herbivore and carnivore and put crowns on playmobil people. Outside we talked about why it isn't cool to chase the chickens or give them too much scratch. We practiced letters on a white board with crayons and did math with cubes on the floor. And we played. Lots.<br />
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Part of my brain will always wish that raising my children to be self sustaining, happy adults was a liner process that was chartable with standardized test and check lists. But humans are not that way. We don't all grow up to be the same person and so our paths will never be the same as anyone elses. So today, I managed to live without the lists or mini freak outs, but I make no promises for tomorrow. Or next week.Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1687244338559776716.post-45671885630833649302014-03-11T22:04:00.000-06:002014-03-11T22:08:04.167-06:00Almost a Grown-UP!Once upon a time, there was a young woman who got married at a shockingly young age. It was rough, but it seemed to work. This frightfully young woman went to college and had a job. She taught classes full of small children and was pretty sure she had this kid thing all figured out, after all, she went to school for that. And she had been a nanny. I mean, people PAID her to take care of children, so she must be good at it.<br />
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Poor broad, didn't have a clue.<br />
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Real life has a way of smacking you on your ass with humility. Mine came in the form of 4 children. I was an amazing parent until I actually had kids. To this date, I am pretty sure I have learned more from my children than I have been able to teach them, which is saying something (not a good something) since we homeschool.<br />
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My children are approaching the age where I am no longer required for sustenance twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. Although Jamison is no closer to weaning now than he was 6 months ago, we can at least throw a juice box and string cheese in his general direction and hold him off for a bit.<br />
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This means that for the first time in 9 years, I might have the opportunity to be a grown-up in a world of grown-ups. I might be able to MAKE some money instead of just spend it.<br />
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There is a problem with all this; you see, I am not the same young woman who believes she knows it all. And I am not sure I want to teach kids anymore. All this time spent in the trenches has turned my heart. I now understand that if you want to have amazing children grow up into fabulous adults, then you need to equip parents for success.<br />
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So I am packing up my lunch box, throwing my trapper keeper into my backpack and going back to school. I took some classes while we were on the east coast, but I am doing more. In May I will get certified to teach Love and Logic and by the end of the year I hope to finish up the credentials to be a Family Development Educator.<br />
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Matt has been awesome about this. He gets that, while my children will always have my heart, occasionally being a stay at home mom makes my brain rot and run out my ears. With full understanding that it will create more work and cost money for me to go back to school, he has been nothing but supportive.<br />
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So here is to a new chapter, turning over a new leaf and whatever other cliche seems to fit the moment. I am so thrilled to go on this new adventure, my heart and soul yearn for a life lived bigger than myself and I feel like I am headed down the first steps of that path.<br />
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<br />Gretchenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04306236617481784007noreply@blogger.com0