Pure

The Word of God is pure.  Prov 30:5

I have been meditating on that word today.  Pure in motive.  Pure in purpose.  Pure in love.

My words are less than pure.

They have an undercurrent of need.  A need to be understood, to be appreciated, to be right, to be heard.
If they aren't driven by need, they often have a want in there.  I want you to do this for me.  I want to convince you of something.  I want to receive a certain response.

They have a great deal of self.  Self-love.  Self-satisfaction.  Self-awareness.  Self-doubt.  Just hearing myself talk.

They often lack faith.  They sound like a stormcloud threatening rain.  They're quick to confess lack, and slow to profess hope.

The words the Lord speaks are only uttered in love.  Even his rebuke is in kindness, to correct in a way that draws me back to Him.  My corrections are often unnecessary, and not usually with the other's good in mind.

The words of the Lord have purpose and accomplish what they are sent to do.  My words don't usually have much thought put into them, let alone an abiding purpose.    

The words of the Lord are timeless.  Eternal.  Mine?  I don't feel like many of them will last beyond the second in which they're breathed.  

Yet our words, while not omnipotent, are potent.  (not original to me; one of our church's elders spoke recently and said this, and it's stuck with me since.)   They do have, after all, the power of life.  They have the power of death as well, and no gray in between.

But focus on that for a moment -- our words, when infused with the Holy Spirit, have power and life.  Power to build up.  Power to mend.  Power to transform.

I have to remind myself sometimes what we often hear mothers tell their toddlers:  "Use your words."  May I make use of my words today, in love of God, for the purpose of the kingdom of heaven.

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing in Your sight, oh Lord, my rock and my redeemer.  Psalm 19

More thoughts and encouragement can be found if you follow back to Company Girl Coffee. :)

Have you seen my Nap Time Warriors post?  Please take a gander at it, and link up if you have something to share!

Calling All Mommy Bloggers

Today's nap time has been long-awaited.

We went to the doctor's office for our belated 15-month appointment (yes, she is almost 17 months old; there was an insurance kerfuffle, but it's fixed now so we're finally back on track) and had her royal highness checked out.  She's got a mild to moderate head cold.  Really?  That's all?  She does seem to be feeling better today, though

This week I've had some fun during the afternoon nap:

I went grocery shopping.
I made lots of lists.
Vacuumed.
Washed lots of dishes.
Got some reading in.
Had a few cups of coffee.
Visited more blogs than I can shake a stick at.
Paid the bills.
Made dinners.
Drafted blog posts for my busy days or ones in which my creativity flatlines.  (I have a few recipes I want to share with you soon!)

Today during this nap I have managed to:
Finish the laundry, clean the bathroom, help Sam practice his martial arts stick work, change and wash the sheets on the bed, have a brief but uninterrupted phone conversation with a friend, set up a linky tool (yay!), and compose a blog post!  And the girl is still sleeping--maybe I'll wake her up too early to get her out the door to an appointment more often!

I did want to show you this quick little Before and After:

Lizzie was starting to reach into the silverware drawer and remove anything she could reach.  The knives were in front.  Bad planning, Mommy.  Bad planning.  So a re-do was necessary, and I did it on Monday.

Yes, those are coffee grounds in the corner.  Don't ask.

All this was rattling inside the drawer.

Ta-da!  Now the knives and forks are safe from little fingers.

Have you accomplished anything that you'd like to tell about or show off?  Link up!

Here are the qualifiers for the Nap Time Warriors:

Just mention something you accomplished, whether leisure or labor, in an effort to use your time wisely.
Please link to a specific post on your blog at the linky tool below, and somewhere in your post, please link back to this site.
If you want to grab the button, please feel free to!  I'll try to create the tool this afternoon.
You don't have to have a napping child to participate.
If you're not a blogger, post in the comments.

All Hallow's Eve

What is your take on Halloween?

I have only one child, and she has no concept of holidays yet, so it is not an issue that I have to decide in black and white this year.  I am not quite sure what our official stance will be.

However, I do have my personal experience of it, which ran through the conservative pendulum: 

When I was young, our family locked ourselves in the basement, with the upstairs lights off, pretending we weren't there.  We played games, watched movies, sang songs, colored, and basically hid from Halloween.  Sometimes we hid with another family; that only embedded our "us verses them" perspective.

When we got older, it became popular for churches to have "Harvest Parties" as an alternative to Halloween.  Those were fun, and we had an opportunity to dress up and carry home bags of candy without partaking of evil.  The Harvest Party concept can be sad sometimes because it isn't often an outreach, only an inbred way for Christians to hide, together, with the lights on.

Later we moved further into the country, and our church was small and had no resources for a harvest event, so the flock had to fend for themselves when it came to Halloween.  We lived on a tiny dirt road, with about 10 neighboring houses, and there were not even that many kids on the whole street.  So we decided to trick-or-treat.  We dressed up as something non-threatening (usually a hobo--because we had raggedy clothes in abundance, or a cowpoke, or a kid-too-old-to-be-trick-or-treating) and visited our neighbors.  We met some of the kindest neighbors because we stepped outside our comfort zone and met them where they were.

Then we moved into the suburbs.  There we were surrounded by families with children, and they were children who swam at the same pool we did, and their parents waved at us (or glared at us, depending on our current standing in the HOA's list of "lawns most needing care"), and who invited us to grill out with them on holiday weekends.  So we left our lights on, and bought an orange pumpkin bowl from the Dollar Tree, and handed out candy to happy little ballerinas and super heros and ladybugs and goblins.

Over the last few years, our church has headed up a "Harvest Festival" that has seen thousands of neighbors come through for free games, music, popcorn, hot dogs, and cotton candy.  We have had a prayer tent, and have handed out hundreds and hundreds of Bibles.  But this particular event is being put to rest.  While we were involved, it was easy to decide what to do: we went, we helped set up, helped run the event, and helped tear it down.

Regardless of what we choose for this year or next, my perspective is this: Whatever we do, we have to do it in faith. 

Honestly, you can boycott Halloween and be absolutely within your rights to do that.  There are enough reasons to avoid it at all costs.  It is, after all, a holiday that has an obsession with death, evil, and darkness.  And depending on where my family is (physically and spiritually), we may have years in which we avoid it. 

If you decide not to take part in anything having to do with All Hallows Eve, do it out of conviction that it is not godly.  If you decide not to partake in costumes, candy, spiders, and jack-o-lanterns, make the decision in personal obedience to Christ, and not out of fear.  As children of light, we should not make decisions based on fear.

If you decide to participate, do so in love.  You don't have to hand out tracts with your Fun Size Butterfingers, but if you want to, do it in love.  Do it prayerfully, and in faith.  If you decide to participate, emphasize to your family that there is evil in the world, but we have the Word of God, which is a powerful weapon against spiritual forces of darkness.

And if this Halloween you come to our house and we don't have our lights on, it's because we really aren't home; we don't have a basement to hide in.

(For a thoughtful discussion of Halloween's Christian roots, take a minute to read Elizabeth Esther's article, Halloween is NOT a pagan holiday.)

Going Somewhere?

wordless wednesday

Meals and Brunch Menu

A little late, but that's fine.


Monday, you may have read, was a little crazy.  I made Chicken Cacciatore, and it was delicious.


Tuesday, we were planning to have dinner with our home group, but Lizzie is still not a happy camper, so I have to make dinner.  I didn't end up making Baked Potato Soup last week, so that is what I will make tonight.


I am hoping to make it to the grocery store this afternoon or tomorrow, where I'll pick up what I need to make:

Steak & Salad

Crock Pot Beef Stew w/ Root Vegetables

Honey Dijon Chicken w/ rice

Stir-fried chicken (probably like this Sweet & Sour Chicken recipe) you guessed it, w/ rice

Eggs/Tofu/Tomatoes w/ rice

and the stuff for chicken soup - since it's always good to have it on hand.

Saturday we will have brunch, when I will make:

Pumpkin Waffles

Sausage & Onion Frittata

Hummus & Veggies & Crackers

Grape Salad

and coffee, juice, and whatever else strikes my fancy.

The beauty of all these things is that they can be made ahead of time and finished or warmed up in the morning!

a Monday of Misadventures

Today felt like a real-life enactment of Robert Quackenbush's children's book Henry's Awful Mistake.  I have been thinking about that book quite a bit lately, because I want to have people over to eat with us, and I have been seeing ants in the bathroom.  But that has nothing to do with today.  Today was just weird. 

Henry's Awful Mistake, Robert Quackenbush

Last night we discovered that one of our cats had gotten locked out of the bathroom where their litter box is, so when we came back from our dinner excursion at the fine dining establishment of KFC, we found cat doodie and cat tinkle on Sam's backpack in his closet. 

When we threw the backpack into the washer and went to finish the cleanup, we discovered that the floor was damp and the carpet was stained a sort of rust color.  There was a musty smell.  This closet wall is opposite of the master bathroom shower.  Dreading the worst, we put a fan on it and went to bed, deciding to tackle it in the morning.

Severe thunderstorms swept through north Georgia early this morning, so the house was cool and dark when the alarm went off at 7-something and I rolled out of bed at 8-something.  The first half hour of the morning was quite pleasant; I got up, had coffee, a bit of a quiet time, and listened while the thunder woke Lizzie. 

Shortly after breakfast, Sam and I began discussing bills needing to be paid and being past due, and it was not the most peaceful conversation.  I wondered what had happened to the quiet that had been in my heart.  I realized it was dueling with the pride in my heart, which was trying to convince me that I had hardly any fault.  I chewed on that for a while, and eventually went to apologize to Sam, who was trying to figure out what was the best way to deal with the mold in his closet. 

I had the cute, demanding, and infinitely miserable half-pint hanging on my leg, and on my neck when she managed to convince me to carry her.  All day she's been wiping her nose on her sleeve, and has been generally discontent except when outside or in the bathtub.

While Sam was extracting black molded carpet frames and carefully putting them in a bag inside a box to keep the toxicity at bay, I had been trying to at least make a list of things that need to be done this week, and had high expectations of making a grocery list and starting dinner.  Lizzie was napping, and I was going to take full advantage of the time.

I picked up the living room to vacuum so that Sam could vacuum in the closet, then we could throw away the vacuum bag.  I am outrageously out of shape, because I was winded by the time I finished.  And when I stood the vacuum upright in the master bedroom, I heard Lizzie's pathetic, snuffling cry through the monitor.  She had been down for about 30 minutes and I let her cry for another 10, just to see if she would calm down.  No good.

The rest of the day was spent in a low-grade panic.  Late in the afternoon I chased the wide awake and exploring Lizzie into the bedroom to find Sam leaning over the sink quietly washing his hands.  I asked if he was alright, and he said he had stabbed himself with a rusty nail.  He'd been wearing thin plastic gloves to protect him from the grossness, but they had been no protection against a nail.

New distress surfaced when he said that the last Tetanus shot he had received was in 1991.  So we spent 20 minutes trying to pinpoint the county Health Department, where he could get a shot without having insurance.  While searching, we found out that our county's Health Department's website is absolutely blank.  No information, no phone number, no 'click here for details.'  Just a banner letting you know you found it, and the rest is empty.  Taxpayer dollars at work.  We found the location, thanks to Google Maps, and Sam left with 20 minutes before the clinic closed, hoping for an open slot.

In the meantime, I had to figure out whether I was going to make something for dinner or just call Sam to ask him to pick up another healthy meal from a drive-thru.  I decided to give dinner a go while Lizzie was semi-mesmerized by Veggie Tales' Pistachio.  From what I heard, it sounded entertaining. 

Around 6 PM, Sam made it back home, to tell me that he has to go back tomorrow, since they didn't have time to give him a shot today.  In all honesty, the Chicken Cacciatore was the highlight of the day, which I photographed and I hope to share the recipe with you soon.  We all devoured it.  Perhaps we were starving and didn't realize it, and that's why everything seemed a little more awful than it really was.  Or maybe it really was just a crappy day.

The evening progressed, and refreshed from a delicious meal, we got up and got Lizzie in the bathtub, where she had a wonderful time as long as both parents were present.  When we got her out, she promptly tinkled on the floor.  That was laughable and I cleaned it up, diapered her, pajamaed her, read to her, nursed her, and medicined her.  The nighttime routine is very long, and I had not made a pit stop before it started, so I asked Sam to keep an eye on Lizzie while I ran to the bathroom for a minute. 

What happened, though, is that I actually ran to the bathroom.  And as I ran, I swung for the lightswitch in the bedroom, but missed.  That's OK, because I've lived here for over 3 years and can navigate my way to the bathroom in the dark.

Unless there is an upright vacuum cleaner in the pitch black room. 

C   R   A   S   H   !!!

I nailed it with my knee, my shin, and what still feels like my entire upper right leg.  And I kind of lost it, if you know what I mean.  I cried in pain and embarrassment and fatigue.  Sam and Lizzie came in to help me up and give my boo-boos kisses.  I changed into my pajamas and finally got Lizzie into bed. 

Now that I listed it all, it's pretty funny.  But I was on the verge of tears of complete weariness and frustration most of the day.  And I am thankful that nothing worse happened.  And I am so very grateful that tomorrow will come with fresh grace to help and the sunrise will come with new mercy to meet our needs. 

Now, to--slowly--find myself some Advil.

Realizations of a novice blogger

This month has been the first time I have really put forth the effort to carve out my online presence.  This blog has about 150 posts, and it has been in operation for over two years, but I'm really still a n00b.

These are some of the things I have learned over the past few weeks:

I was posting just for the sake of having something to post every day.  And I felt like some of it was, if I am honest, annoying.

I write really, really, really, really long posts.  I'm sorry.  I will try to keep them shorter.  I even cut this one into two posts already.  As if you could tell.

I have a bad habit of being a first-draft blogger.  Half-baked thoughts may be "raw" and "honest" but there is a reason some things should be cooked thoroughly.  I need to break this habit.

Fortunately saving drafts has helped me this week in a few ways:
My writing has more clarity and purpose when I begin to write a draft, and save it for publishing later.
Having a draft available to work on means that I do not have to spend as much time creating or fighting through a mental block.
Scheduling a posting time makes sure it doesn't remain a draft forever, and gives me a deadline to just let it go.  I believe it was Steady Mom who mentioned that she does this.  Or maybe it was Clover Lane.  Either one of them is believable, because they put out great content, and have solid advice.
The evening before a post is scheduled, I just give it a final once-over, and wish it good night.  In the morning, it has posted, and I can have my quiet time, my coffee, and cuddles with my little girl, without fretting that the blogosphere has gone on without me.


When I have my quiet time in the Word in the morning, taking the time to pray and waiting on the voice of the Father, I feel less of a need to seek out affirmation and feedback from the world online.  Inspired to Action has been helpful; I'm not following their specific program, but it was enough of a push to get me moving. 


Creating a blog calendar has helped me keep straight what I will write for the week, and figure out what blog carnivals I would link to, and let me see a pattern--if any--to my posting.  Alicia's Homemaking mentioned a blogging calendar and the lightbulb went off above my head in a "why didn't I think of that?" moment.

I stalked my stats this week.  I'm trying to figure out what they mean.  I read Kludgy Mom's articles about a million tools to make your blog more useful and cooler and to help you make sense of the stats. I haven't made sense of them, but they're entertaining. But now I have a search widget, and it entertains me.  Go ahead, search it.  It'll be fun.

Apparently I need to work on asking better open-ended questions.  Or maybe I just ask them on days when I have more traffic.  As though I could time that.

I am really close to opening a Twitter account.  Will that place me on the dark side?

Have these been lessons you have learned as well?  What else have you learned that you can share with a young grasshopper?

The Week in Review

This nap time has been long-awaited. Sick toddlers do not pleasant company make.

Having a cup of Starbucks' Espresso Roast in my Texas flag mug, while searching for conversation points to jot down for your perusal, has been helpful to my sanity.

That obnoxious ice cream truck driving by is not currently helping my sanity in any way. But I digress.

Digression is mentioned frequently in blog posts, isn't it? That and coffee. And time management. Or the lack thereof.

Making use of my time, particularly of my mornings before the rest of the house gets up and begins making demands, and of the nap time in the afternoons, has been on my heart. And rightly so. I decided to start a regular post to keep me accountable to my commitment to "redeem the time." Check out the Nap Time Warrior post if you have a chance.

Today I have been very thankful for my crock pot, happily simmering away with our chili for tonight. The earlier portion of my day has been so long and so full of sniffles and slimy kleenexes and tears that I am not sure I could have spent the nap time making dinner without going into deep frustration mode. But in a few minutes I will also start rice in the rice cooker, and let it do its magic, and we will have a cozy dinner tonight. I'll open a can of pears and call it a day.

This week I have met some of my goals from Monday:

I did exercise twice this week. Wednesday night I put the little girl to bed and did a complete workout from Matt Roberts' New Body book I have had for a few years, but have not taken full advantage of. I am still feeling the burn.
This morning I walked around the block, pushing Liz in the stroller, and working some of the lactic acid out of my aching legs and backside.

I went to bed at midnight once this week. The rest of the nights, I finally hit the pillow sometime after midnight.

However, I did have a quiet time every day! Some longer than others. But it was quiet, and it was time spent. And my outlook and attitude have been much more gracious because of it. Oh, the struggle to get out of bed, though!

I posted on the blog once each weekday. I had a lot of fun writing our engagement story. I found that I did a better job if I began writing it a day ahead and scheduled it for the following day (or later). Having the ability to edit made a big difference in the quality of what was published. I also didn't sit down to a blank screen and stare at it until some drivel came out; I had an idea to work with.

While I walked the neighborhood this morning, I called a friend to catch up and to invite her family to brunch next Saturday. She will also bring her coffeemaker. It is one of the fancy ones that doles out one cup at a time. Just thinking about it makes me smile.

I'm also inviting the families in our home group. Whoever can come, can come, and whoever can't come, will just have to come the next time! My hope is to do this once a month.

My menu for brunch is shaping up:
Pumpkin waffles
Ham and onion fritatta (or frittata?)
Fruit Salad
Hummus, veggies and crackers or pita bread
Coffee, juice, milk

When you host a brunch, what do you serve or what do you enjoy eating if someone else serves it? I will be looking for other options for coming months.

Ah, Sam is home from helping a family from church dig out their collapsed swimming pool. I should greet him. Have a happy weekend!

Life's Simple Pleasures - Afternoon Coffee

Light blue feathers of flame in the gas range.

The tarnished and warm and well-loved kettle
rumbling with near-boiling water.
(No percolator for me; it has been banished to the garage for being dank and difficult to clean.)

The long 5-minute wait for the coffee to steep in the French Press.



Foaming hot coffee poured into a colorful mug,
a gift from my thoughtful young friend.

All these pieces culminate in afternoon coffee;
Sometimes a simple necessity to make my afternoon work for me;
it's also a simple pleasure.

Nap Time Warrior

I knew that naps were important before I had a baby. But I had no idea how crucial they are.

These days naps are my lifeline.

When that pink, cooing, eating, squawking, diaper-filling child arrived in our home, I took for granted how much she slept. Sure, the naps were not long, but they were often. The night time sleep was similar to napping, too. Short and sweet. It was all I could do to eat, sleep, take a million pictures of her tiny face, and shower during those early weeks.

Then we lived through a period in which she only napped for 35 minutes at a time. On the dot. It was enough to make me quite crazy. There was nothing of significance that could be accomplished in 35 minutes so I didn't even try. I cried a lot.

When I managed to settle her into taking two naps, I was elated. I had a schedule I could count on! She would nap for a total of 4 hours each day. Four whole hours. Finally, I could begin to pick up our home from the shambles it had become during the 35-minute nap period; and I even had time to relax.

Another hard spot came when she went to only one nap. I have to choose whether to take time for myself, or to get something useful done.

As I took an assessment of my days I realized that I do have a regular period daily in which I do not have a delightful little person on my leg clamoring for my full attention. There are hours available to me, if I will just take them.

This was highlighted by the words in Ephesians 5:8-17, specifically these two verses:

See then that you walk circumspectly, not as fools but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil. (v.15-16, NKJV, italics mine)

It requires some discipline, and I believe it will require some accountability.

This is where the Nap Time Warrior comes in.

Weekend warriors are the folks who try to fit as much into their weekend as possible, be it sports, yard work, DIY projects, whatever they can do with a great burst of enthusiasm, and then go on with their routines the rest of the week.

I have brief spurts of time, a couple hours here, a couple hours there. But the key is that they are available to me, and I am responsible for how I use them.

Some days I will lace up my shoes, grin and bear it, and exercise. Other days I will use the time to prepare dinner. Still other days I will write a blog post or two, or make phone calls, or pay bills, or clean, or put away laundry. Some days I may only sit with a book and a cup of coffee and that will be how I choose to enjoy spoils of victory. And there will be the nap times that get frittered away. I hope to have fewer of those days.

What about you? What do you plan to do during the next nap?

And if you're not in the stage of having napping children, what do you do between getting home from work and eating dinner or going to bed? Or during your lunch hour?

Engaging

When I was growing up, Columbus Day wasn't the romantic holiday it apparently is today.

Within the last ten days three couples in our church have proclaimed their intentions to marry. This might not be a big deal for some, but our church is small, and the last engagement that I recall was in 2005.

Two other young women I know have also received rings for the same reason, in the same time period.

Their joy is contagious. Their faces are beautiful and happy and excited. I didn't know that it was possible, but their eyes sparkle brighter these days. Congratulations, you guys!

All these engagements are reminding me of our story.

I promise we were in our mid-twenties--not in high school!

Our story involves a wild goose chase, white bark, being outrageously late to a banquet, a bad idea, a gibberish conversation with our pastor, plus a good dose of passive aggression. Sounds romantic, right?

To summarize our courtship, Sam and I met while I traveled to Texas to visit mutual friends (mutual mentors, really); I went home and we were acquaintances for about a year until that mentor asked each of us individually if we had ever considered the other "as a spouse?" Each of us said, "No."

The seed was planted.

A few weeks later we started chatting on good old fashioned AIM. Then we started talking on the phone. Then he asked my parents if he could pursue me, and the next week surprised me by arriving at my cubical at work from across the country with a dozen red roses, my brother, and a camera. That is another story.

Our engagement, however, occurred over the weekend of New Year's. Sam managed to hatch a terrific plan, involving several people, including our pastor and his wife. We were sent on a false errand to a lake so that we could get away from a crowd of friends, many of them from out of town. I always like to hang out, so he was smart to give us a definite purpose in order to get me alone.

As we drove, I began to get more and more stressed. You see, our church has had a New Year's Eve banquet every year, and it is kind of one of our highlights of the year. I was looking forward to it because it would be special to be there on someone's arm. We were still in our jeans, and we were supposed to be at the banquet in the next 90 minutes, dressed up, and with our white bark.

White bark?

Yes, as I understood it, we were asked by our pastor's wife to gather some "white bark" for the table decorations for the banquet. These instructions were all second-hand, and being the detail-oriented, punctual, and somewhat control-freaked person I am, the assignment was beginning to stress me out even more.

White bark?

"How will we obtain said white bark? What will we use to lob it off? I mean, do we have scissors or something? Where will we get it?" I don't know why I felt it necessary to point out our unpreparedness.

"Don't worry, we will find some up at the dam."

My mind was running circles, and they were beginning to spiral downward more quickly, like vultures coming closer to the carrion. Isn't it controlled by the Army Corps of Engineers? Won't we be arrested for cutting bark off of trees? If we are supposed to bring it back to decorate, we need to get there back before it starts, and there's just no way it's going to happen.

I finally convinced Sam, "Maybe you should call and ask for more specific directions."

You have to understand that our pastor is a wonderful, loving man, who has served for over 50 years. He is probably like what you would expect Elijah would have been like: bearded, strong, sharp, a little gruff, and as ready to fight for his family or flock as a papa bear. There is nothing mean about him, nor is there anything nonsensical about him.

So when Sam called him to ask him about where to find this bark, and how to get to the lake, and where to turn, both of them pretending they were truly discussing the finer details of obtaining branches for centerpieces, it must have been one of the most odd phone conversations either of them had had in quite a while. The phone call still didn't calm me.

By the time we reached the lake, I was so frustrated that I was close to tears. This is not typical of me; anger is not something I have much of an issue with, but I was genuinely angry. Sam was clearly a little unsettled because I was so upset. Still, when we pulled up to a parking area, and the headlights shone on tall pine trees, he began to laugh, "This is so funny!"

"Sure it is. We're going to be late! I don't know what we're supposed to be getting! Where is this stupid bark?" My voice was deadpan. "This. Bark. Is. Not. White."

"This is hilarious!"

At this point I was glaring out the window. It was just past sunset, the trees silhouettes against the lake.

Sam pauses and laughs again, then as he opens his door to exit the car, he says, "Maybe this was a bad idea."

Idea? I watched him come around the front of the car to open my door.

Wait a second. This is a pretty place. This is New Year's Eve. We're away from the crowd of friends we had been surrounded by all weekend. Way to put my foot in my mouth.

I willed myself to calm down. To be civil. To be pleasant.

We walked to a stone bench, beside a park map. An overhead spotlight lit the area. The stars were out.

He asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yes." Then realized I was not okay, and that I should be honest. "No! ... Well, yeah."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I promise; I'll be nice to you. Just give me a minute."

Sam patiently talked me into being relaxed and not angry anymore, making gentle conversation, being sweet to me, and making sure I still loved him, even though he brought me out there under false and confusing pretenses.

Of course I still loved him.

After a little while I relaxed, enjoying his words, his arm around my waist, and sitting with him in the cool air and starry night. As we sat on the cold bench, Sam continued to talk, and I gave careful answers, my heart racing and my eyes wide; I was finally catching on. Eventually as he talked about purpose and family and other things that I wish I could remember, he said after a pause, "We should get married."

Is this really it? "Yeah, I think we should."

"You think?" He was smiling now.

"Yeah...." So was I.

Sam slipped to his knees and out of his pocket came a little box, and he asked me classically, "Will you marry me?"

I accepted and we laughed and stayed out in the cold for a few more minutes. Finally it was alright that we didn't have to get that white bark; incidentally it was supposed to be White Pine branches, but it was lost in translation. Finally it didn't bother me at all that we were going to be late to our banquet. We had good reason! And what a story to tell!

Top 10 Favorite Board Books

With a 16-month-old who enjoys the sound of ripping paper, our accessible book collection is very sturdy.

Additionally, with a 16-month-old who likes repetition, our book repertoire is fairly consistent.
With no further ado, for Top Ten Tuesday, here are Our 10 Favorite Board Books:

1. Caps For Sale, Esphyr Slobodkina

We read this at least once a day. And at random moments Lizzie will smirk, shake her finger in the air, and say "tsz, tsz, tsz!" Caps For Sale is especially wonderful when your child is obsessed with hats, monkeys, or foot-stamping, as mine is.


2. Gossie, Olivier Dunrea
"Gossie is a small yellow gosling who likes to wear her bright red boots. Every day." You don't know anyone who likes to do the same thing Every Day, do you? A few weeks ago I had a revelation from this book; it still impacts my heart when I read it.

3. Gossie & Gertie, Olivier Dunrea

Gertie is Gossie's friend, who follows Gossie, but not all the time. The catchphrase, "Follow me!" is useful when I want Lizzie to come along. Following Mommy is more fun when she relates it to the story.

4. Hippos Go Berserk, Sandra Boynton

We have borrowed this from the library multiple times. It has actually taught Lizzie some counting. She counts to two, and points out the numbers on the page while I read it.

5. Girl of Mine, Jabari Asim

This is the sweetest book, and it elicits hugs and soft cuddles every time I read it to Lizzie. When rocking her before bed I can make her literally melt as I quote: "Giggly, wiggly, precious pearl. I'm so glad that you're my girl!" We have had it from the library for nearly 6 weeks now, and I'm sure we will have to buy it ourselves, because we can't just keep it on perpetual renewal.

6. The Wheels On the Bus
I really can't find any info on this specific book... it just has the very annoying song, which I have abbreviated, and the pages have flaps. It is terrible. But she loves it, so I can't hide it from her, can I?

7. Where Is Baby's Belly Button? Karen Katz

My aunt sent the "Lift the Flaps" collection of Karen Katz's books, and they have been a hit. Belly Buttons are fascinating at the moment, so we like this one. Sadly, several flaps have been exuberantly severed from their pages.

8. Baby's First Bible

There are few more precious things than having a toddler who can barely speak asking to read the book about Jesus (using ASL for Babies' "book" and "Jesus").

9. The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Eric Carle

Who can't love a caterpillar who eats one apple, two pears, three plums, four strawberries, five oranges, a sausage, a chocolate cake, a lollipop, swiss cheese, ice cream, a cupcake, a piece of cherry pie, a pickle, a slice of salami, and a piece of watermelon, then eats a green leaf and turns into a butterfly?

10. Pajama Time, Sandra Boynton

Sing-song rhythm, and it's all about getting pajamas on. "Jamma, jamma, jamma, jamma, P! J!" Anything that redirects toward bedtime is a winner in my book.

What are your favorites? They don't have to be board, they can be made of regular paper. You have to be very gentle with paper. No ripping. Very gentle.

Bloggin' Buttons

I've got a question for you savvy bloggers.

How do you go about makin' the flair you put on your blogs? You impress me with your fancy buttons, and happy badges, and shiny boxes of branding.

'Cause I really want to know.

And what do you use to put a watermark on your original photos?

I would so appreciate your assistance. Thank you!

Another Monday, Another Plan

Last week started with a handful of good intentions, but they got away from me, and, well, yeah.

It was not a bad week, it was just not one that felt very much under control. As though I have ever wrestled my weeks into submission.

I want to go to bed at a reasonable hour, so I can get up and have my quiet time before the quiet dissipates.

I want to exercise at least twice this week. Baby steps.

I want to prepare meals in advance so dinner is a pleasant time, instead of stressful.

Black beans are soaking, for Black Bean Soup from the Joy of Cooking. My mom had a ham hock that she threw in the freezer, then offered to me. I said I'd figure out something to do with it. Now it's been in my freezer for a week. Someone has to put it out of its misery.

A couple days ago I told my neighbor, who just had surgery for her broken arm, that I would bring her and her husband a meal this week. I have a feeling it will probably be the soup (if it comes out well enough to share), or maybe chili. Because who doesn't love chili?


The plan is as follows:

Black Bean Soup, Jiffy corn muffins
Spaghetti and veggies
Red Cabbage and Kielbasa
Chili, rice
Chicken Cacciatore, pasta
Baked Potato Soup, grilled cheese
And leftovers galore!

I also bought 2 pie pumpkins at Walmart yesterday, with plans to gut them, cook them, and make something delicious, then freeze what's left. I made some fabulous waffles (page 6, "fruity waffles") last week using freezer burnt pureed butternut squash baby food. You never would have known it was not pumpkin. I have grand plans to make pumpkin waffles throughout the winter, and a pumpkin spice latte knock-off a time or two!

I'm linking with I'm an Organizing Junkie's Menu Plan Monday again today!

My First Guest Posting!

Grab a cup of coffee and meander on over to Meg Moseley's Blog to read my guest post there today! I manage to reference coffee at least 3 times. You would be impressed.

Here's a teaser:

Ten lessons I learned from having a writer as a mother:

• Prioritize what you’re passionate about. A writer cannot help it; there is no escaping the creative process in his or her mind. With a novelist, that means there is a continuous story with full conversations with imaginary people. And sometimes those imaginary people take precedence over the real ones living in her house. Please understand, we were always loved, clothed, fed, and cared for, but we knew that we could reheat our own lunches and clean up our own messes; her characters needed her full attention just to exist. Who can compete with that?

Read the rest here.

I am hoping to make it to a Mark. (the young, hip version of Avon) party tonight, and maybe even get to buy something there! Or win a door prize! Or eat some snacks! Any one of those sounds exciting at the moment. Like these pretty little rings on "last chance."

The week has been a pretty good one. Here is a statement I never thought I would make:
I am so thankful that we qualify for three different forms of government aid right now.
But we are exceptionally grateful for God's provision while we wait, and wait, and wait for a job to become available for Sam.

We are living on chicken soup right now, because a lack of sleep and an increase in temperature changes have messed a little bit with all our systems. We're feeling better. And I'm getting really good at making chicken soup.

My lack of sleep is partially due to my absorption The Unlikely Disciple, subtitled "A Sinner's Semester at America's Holiest University" by Kevin Roose. I found it through a mention at Jade Keller's website, read the review, and was intrigued, so I put it on hold at the library. Now I can't put it down. It's definitely hilarious, thought-provoking, infuriating and convicting in turns.

I'm going to run out and hit the grocery store. Have a happy weekend!

You Capture - Animals

Tracking Chipmunks

Maximus and Lady are watching a chipmunk in the grass outside just below the open window. Lizzie is joining the party.

This is my first link up with I Should Be Folding Laundry's You Capture. There are various circles that do a photo every day, or have more specific categories or more technical photographers, but those are not for me. Besides, who in the world can't relate to a title like "I Should Be Folding Laundry"? I don't know this girl yet, but I think we would be friends.

Vulnerability, briefly

We did not go to our home group meeting tonight. We normally try to. It's a little tricky with a toddler who hasn't learned to survive in another room without direct view of Mommy. We end up dividing and conquering: one parent stays in the group discussion, and one parent stays in the play room. One day it will change. One day I'll be able to follow a train of thought. Right?

Our home group (or small group, care group, life group, cell group, study group... whatever you want to call the collection of people from church who meet in a home in the middle of the week for prayer, discussion and fellowship--and usually light snacks) is a wonderful blessing. There is nothing like it to make you feel more like you are part of a family in a church. Even when nothing ground breaking or profound is revealed or accomplished, our being together somehow strengthened one another. We pray about what is going on in our lives. We share what God is doing with us, what He's saying to our hearts, where He's pointing out the places we need our selfishness to die so His grace has room to live.

There is a level of accountability in meeting regularly with believers.

Accountability is something I have trouble with. I don't usually have trouble sharing where I have trouble. That's not hard for me. It's close to complaining. It's actually close to admitting defeat. "Oh, I can't. I'm a terrible person. Maybe next time I can do better."

Honesty is not hard for me.

I can tell you what I have had trouble with. I can tell you all the things I am afraid of. I can tell you where I struggle, where I am not measuring up, where I have felt conviction, and even whether I have responded or not. Accountability is easy when I set the bar really low. I've already decided what I would tell you, where I will let you in, how much of my shield I will let you think you have seen behind. It keeps me safe, and sets up the facade of being "real" and personal.

Now, what is hard for me is vulnerability.

Being vulnerable is letting you in on my process. The process is not defined, clear cut, or neat. The process is actually raw and messy. It hurts. It is the unknown.

The process requires faith. And my faith, while real, is not always stellar. Because sometimes I am afraid that what I'll see when I start opening up is really something hideously selfish. Something pitifully faithless. Deceitfully immature.

And sometimes the vulnerability that is necessary for real accountability has nothing to do with faithlessness, but hopefulness. And hope can be something frightening to share. Because hope sometimes seems so precious and beautiful, almost so exquisite that it is fragile. Attempting to express it sometimes turns a delicate orchid into what looks a Play-Doh replica. And hopes, dreams, callings, goals, all have great potential - to soar or to plummet.

So recently as I have considered this in my heart, accountability is not to me something about saying "I failed at this and that," rather it is about growing, attempting, and setting forth, and inviting you in to my process, in faith.

(I'm linking to Steady Mom's 30-minute Blog Challenge. I think I may have slid over the time limit last time, because I kept getting interrupted and had to compensate for it. R-i-g-h-t.)

In Which I Lock the Baby in the Truck

I thought the keys were in my pocket.

The morning started smoothly enough. It was a perfect, clear, sunny day--the kind that you wish were the norm every day of the year: chilly in the morning, and dazzlingly bright and warm by lunch time.

On a mission to find size 2T long sleeved shirts, I packed up Lizzie, the stroller, and a cup of Cheerios to hit one of the local thrift stores, where they have all clothes half off on Wednesday. Half off? Why don't I go there more often? I collected a handful of toddler shirts, pants, and a velveteen dress, plus a couple of kitchen accessories, paid for them with a $5 and two $1's, dropped the shopping bag in the truck, then walked to the big pet store chain in the same parking lot. The Guinea pigs were a hit, and we made friends with the kittens for adoption.

It was getting to be close to lunchtime, so we made our way back to the truck. I loaded Liz into the car seat, and hit the clicker, so all the peripheral doors would lock. Because it's safer that way. She was settled, was chowing down on her Cheerios, and I shut the door to throw the stroller in the back.

And then I froze.

There were the keys.

On the seat.

Inside the truck.

With my baby.

Who was happily chewing, smiling, and kicking her sneaker-clad feet. She held out the cup of Cheerios, offering them to me.

I smiled, waved, and pulled my cell phone out of my jeans' back pocket. Thank God I at least had the phone on my person. "It's OK, baby. Hi, honey!" I say, listening to the phone ring on the other end of the line. "Eat your Cheerios. Don't drop them!"

Maybe one of the doors wasn't all the way closed. I walked around the vehicle. Nope, they're all soundly latched.

Still no answer. I wave to Lizzie from the other side of the truck. "Pick up, pick up! Oh, please, Jesus! Make Sam pick up his phone!" Sam doesn't always hear or acknowledge his phone ringing.

Voicemail.

I hung up and dialed a second time, and he answered. "Sorry, my mom was talking to me--" I cut him off.

"I need you to come. I locked Lizzie in the truck."

"You lost Lizzie?!" Oh, thank God I didn't lose her!

"No, she's here, I locked her in the Suburban. I need you to come with a key."

"I'll be right there."

We live only about 5 minutes away from the shopping center where I was stuck, so I knew if we could all just avoid tears, everything will be OK.

Looking back, I'm glad no one called the authorities; I could have looked suspicious the way I was hovering outside a huge SUV, peering in the passenger window, and then nervously panning the parking lot and passing traffic. I think I freaked out the Hispanic girls getting back to their Beetle parked next to me. They loaded up their goods as quickly as they could, avoiding eye contact (not that I was trying to draw attention to myself in this embarrassing situation), and keeping a good distance from me.

L was completely oblivious. She was having a grand time. As long as she did not spill her entire open cup of Cheerios before her daddy showed up with a spare key, she would continue to be fine. But I worried, because I didn't want to have to try to console her from the other side of the locked door.

We played peek-a-boo. We blew kisses. We pointed at each other and laughed. She picked up individual Cheerios and held them out to me, as though I could bite them out of her fingers through the window. I commanded her to not drop them. We signed "I love you" (our version, anyway).

And then Lizzie signed "Jesus loves me" with the biggest pleased grin on her face. My heart stopped.

Little ones to Him belong, they are weak but He is strong. Over the past few days I had begun teaching her the song, but I didn't get a lot of feedback from her. "Strong" is Lizzie's favorite part of the song, because she flexes her arms and grunts, then laughs.

"That's right, baby, Jesus loves you. He's right there with you, even if Mama isn't in the truck with you." She was so happy, so content. So assured that she was safe. From that moment, our waiting was full of the peace of God.

Another few minutes passed before Sam pulled up, in full running gear, and we unlocked the truck. Rejoicing, I got in the car. I am thankful because though it was inconvenient, frustrating, and one of those really embarrassingly dumb moments, nothing traumatic happened; and I am also thankful because Sam had not left for his 3 mile run while I was out, which would have made his prompt assistance impossible. The rest of the day was uneventful; we drove home, had lunch, read stories, kept the laundry going.

And all afternoon, dwelling in my mind were the words, Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you. Hebrews 13:5

Coffee Update 10 8 10

Hey! Thanks for visiting! I'm joining the Company Girls again.

It's time for the 2nd cup of coffee. The 2 o'clock pot.

Let's see, this week . . .

I locked Lizzie in the truck.

We made it to home group.

I have written a blog post every day.

Sam applied to 2 jobs.

I finished and put away all the laundry.

Lizzie turned 16 months.

I bought 4 shirts, 2 pairs of pants, a set of empanada presses, and a pyrex bowl for only $6.81.

I haven't been to the grocery store yet.

I have $10 to spend at Kohl's, $5 at Walmart, and $10 at Target!

I read the entire "Complete Idiot's Guide to Raising Chickens" from the library.

I'm picking up "Unlikely Disciple" at the library today. Looking forward to reading it.

I had a morning quiet time twice.

We went to bed before midnight once.

I got my first jury summons.

I took oodles of pictures.

I uploaded a dozen videos of the grandchild for the grandparents. They were thrilled.

I made lemon bars.

I "followed" a ton of new blogs.

We went to a friend's house for dinner last night, and had a terrific time.

I straightened my hair once.

I went for a 1+ mile walk once.

And, I think I'm quite happy.

I'll write something with more substance a little later. Now I am off to the grocery store, library, and Kohl's! Probably in reverse order.

Sausage & Shrimp Gumbo

We were young. We were in love. We had no idea how to prepare meals.

Six years ago, two of my best friends and I had met the men we were going to marry, and we were all just months of being engaged. All three of us still lived at home with our respective parents, and it dawned on us that if we were to become wives, we should learn to make a good dinner.

One of us hatched the plan to prepare a meal together, with our mutual moral support, in my mom's kitchen, for our dashing, sweet, and hungry men. So one sunny afternoon in the fall, the three of us pored over cookbooks, searching for the perfect recipes, making a comprehensive grocery list, and doing our best to prepare a delicious meal. One that would win their hearts, straight through their stomachs.

Our dinner party was a success: we learned quite a lot, we made a dear memory, and we were all married within a year.

Looking back, I'm not sure why we chose to make two soups: Minestrone and Gumbo. But our beloved men didn't complain. They even ate seconds. And they sopped up every drop with Beer Bread. While listening to a CD of Nora Jones. They were such good sports.

This is the gumbo recipe. It is taken from The New Good Housekeeping Cookbook. My variation is simpler. I use smoked sausage instead of Anduille sausage. I use frozen "gumbo mix" vegetables instead of chopping fresh. I used cooked shrimp, because that is what was in my freezer.

Last week I made this for the first time solo, and I took pictures. This is my first recipe with a photo tutorial!

Sausage & Shrimp Gumbo

• 1 pound sausage (smoked sausage, or Italian sausage, or Cajun sausage)
• 3 Tablespoons vegetable oil
• 1/4 cup all purpose flour
• 1 16-ounce package frozen gumbo mix vegetables (or 2 stalks celery, 1 green pepper, and 1 medium onion, all chopped, and later add 1 10-ounce package frozen okra)
• 1 14-ounce can or 1-3/4 cups chicken broth
• 1/2 cup water
• 2 teaspoons hot pepper sauce
  
• 1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
• 1/4 teaspoon dried oregano
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 pound large shrimp, shelled and deveined
• 4 cups cooked hot rice, prepared according to package directions
  

Heat a 5 quart dutch oven over medium heat.
When it is hot, add the sausage.
I sliced the sausage. If you use an Italian or Cajun sausage that have casings, be sure to prick the skin with a fork so they don't explode.

Let them get browned, about 5-10 minutes, then remove them with a slotted spoon. (If you are using a different kind of sausage, let them cool enough to handle, and slice them into 3-4 pieces each.)
Leave only about one Tablespoon of the grease in the dutch oven.
Add 3 Tablespoons vegetable oil.

Next, add the flour to make a roux. You want about equal parts oil and flour. Stir constantly, and do not let it burn. Cook until it gets a light brown, and thickens. You don't want to taste raw flour in the finished product.

Here it is getting a little more golden.

Here you see it is thickening enough to leave a path when I scrape the bottom.

Next, add the vegetables.
My mix had onions, celery, corn, peppers, and okra.
I felt like it needed more celery than what came in the frozen package, so I sliced a stalk.

I separated the okra, and added it at the end, so it would not be as slimy.

Add the vegetables to the roux, and cook until they are tender, about 7-10 minutes for fresh, about 5 minutes for frozen.

Then add the sausage back to the dutch oven.

Gradually stir in the broth, water, and frozen okra.

Add your spices.

Heat to boiling over high heat, then cover and simmer for 15 minutes.
Add the shrimp, and cook until they are pink and opaque throughout (if using raw), or heated through (if using cooked).

Remove bay leaf before serving in bowls over rice.
Makes about 6 main-dish servings.


I'm linking to Alicia's Try New Adventures Thursday (because it revisits an adventure from the past, and it was an adventure to try it again, and try a photo recipe, to boot!)

Bibs

I just realized that we gave Lizzie her first bites of solid food A YEAR AGO.

It gave me a scare for a moment not unlike the moments in which you realize you can measure your life in DECADES.

We've come a long way. The first thing she ate was avocado. She loved it.

These days, Liz will eat almost anything except for avocado. The texture gets to her. I guess it reminds her of baby food. And she is such a big girl that she wants nothing to do with baby food.

Now she eats green beans. Whole. Frozen--especially when she's teething.

(Speaking of teething, we are almost done. Praise Jesus! The last incisor is through and is working its way into its position. Oh, the relief!)

Ever since teething began, along with the buckets of drool, bibs have been part of our daily routine.

Until recently, they have been wadded in one of the few drawers in the kitchen. The same drawer that holds the hot pads and towels and cloth napkins. And it's pretty small. You know how it is trying to cram too many things into one small drawer. It was frustrating, so I began not putting them away. That never helps the frustration level go down, because then they're just out where they don't belong.

Here is my solution:

This picture only shows two bibs hanging, for clarity's sake. Normally there are about a dozen. And the way this kid eats, we go through that many between laundry days.

They are now hanging on the wire shelving behind the door of the pantry. The bibs that clasp are wrapped around the wire.
The bibs that don't clasp--the kind you have to pull over the head like a t-shirt--are looped through a plastic link.

This has solved the bib problem!

Since I'm talking about bibs, and mentioned laundry, I also realized that bibs should be washed inside mesh lingerie bags. Even if you close all the Velcro tabs before you throw them in, there is no guarantee they won't catch on something you really didn't want to have frayed.

I'm giving the "Works for Me Wednesday" link up a whirl. Because I believe this will help more than just me.

So far I have linked up with 3 different sites this week. It is so much fun to meet new people through these sites. I don't know why I haven't tried to do this before!

Kitchens, Plastic and Real

This weekend we hit one of our favorite subdivision yard sale extravaganzas. If we had any particular goal in mind, it was to buy Lizzie a kitchen play set. And a baby monitor, since our video monitor took a dive off a bookshelf and didn't survive. No luck on the monitor.

However, we had success, and found a large kitchen set in great condition, with a ton of dishes, for $25!

Now a colorful plastic "Country Kitchen" is in the dining room, in view of the real kitchen.

Liz is in love. She pretends to microwave a cup, pushing the buttons, closing the door, pushing the buttons again, removing the cup, then pretending to drink out of it. Then she giggles. And we giggle. Watching her pretend play is amazing. Her imitations are exaggerated, and almost exact. That girl wants to be just like me.

Humbling thought.

At least both kitchens are clean. I know they're clean, because I used Clorox wipes on them. The real one and the plastic one. Now I have two kitchens to pick up before bed every night. Or at least more dishes to put where they belong. I may have to implement a chore for Lizzie after dinner.

Recently I did a complete ceiling-to-floor cleaning of the kitchen. The last time I did that was during my 2nd trimester, and I have a 16-month-old child. The Clorox wipes are as close as it has gotten to thoroughly clean in a long time. If I had absolutely no pride, I would have taken "before" and "after" photos, but I only took one "after" photo of what I'm the most pleased with.

You know how those odd cooking staples like oil, vinegar, and all the things that get too close to the stove somehow have a film of grease, then the countertop gets all gunky, and so does anything that touches the gunky countertop?

And you know that one huge platter you have that you only use for Thanksgiving? The one that takes up half a cupboard?

Well, I repurposed the platter, and gave all the bottles a place to live. Isn't it pretty? It makes me happy.


Back to this weekend. To make room for the new kitchen set, I cleared the dining room table and took out a leaf. This means we have a clean dining room, too. It means we can eat without pushing papers and crayons and contact lens cases and batteries and scissors and power tools to the far end in order to find a place to set our plates.

The office is taking shape. There are no more papers on the floor. We vacuumed it. Yes, that's a big deal around here. Why, yes, we don't have company over very often. Why do you ask?

L's closet has only clothes in it that she can grow into. All her smaller clothes are in the attic. Next I will go through her toys. Slowly but surely I am making my way through the house. One day it will be clean; maybe even free of excess clutter.

Not free of clutter. Free of excess clutter. And I can live with that.

What project are you working on, what result are you happy with, or what do you hope to accomplish this month?

I'm linking up with the Moms' 30 Minute Blog Challenge at Steady Mom's blog today. I love the concept, and could stand to do this more than only on Tuesdays!

Monday. Meals and Such, Oct 4

Well, the Menu Plan Monday thing is tricky for me. I have posted our meals on the blog 3 times, and never have stuck precisely with the plan. So, I'm going to go with "Meal Options" instead.

Apparently I'm more of a free spirit than I let on, and don't like following a list. Or maybe I'm such a poor planner that I don't plan according to logic, or refrigerator space. But I suppose I'll figure it out before too long. For now, I do well with a list of "what we can eat this week" and I'll start whichever one on whichever day, and if not, we'll eat grilled cheese.

Meal options, 10.4.10

Honey Dijon Chicken w/ pasta and veggies (what we ate tonight; a hit with all of us, every time)
Country Style Pork Ribs (Help? They were on sale. Any suggestions for me as to how to make them?)
Sausage and Peppers and Onions (this is SO good)
Beans & Rice
Cube Steak and veggies and potatoes
Grilled cheese & soup (from a can)
Arroz con Pollo
and probably some chicken sandwiches (you know, frozen chicken patties, on buns. Yes, because we're classy like that.)

For breakfasts: oatmeal, eggs, and once or twice pancakes or waffles

Lunches: leftovers, sandwiches, whatever we can find in the pantry

Last week I did make a couple of good meals, and one of them I want to share with y'all. It's a pretty simple gumbo, and I got pictures and everything. Fun. So hopefully that will go up this week.