a public service announcement exposing the dangers of unmonitored chocolate use in seven year old girls

i would like to start this post by thanking all of my friends for their words of encouragement this past week as i endured a time of great spiritual crisis. for those of you who happen to be intrigued and are still reading, the answer to the 'what happened?' is...my seven year old daughter. formerly known as little miss sunshine, gb, during this past week, was a mixture between britney spears on the night she shaved her head and mary catherine gallahger (molly shannon's catholic, school girl character in the movie 'superstar'). there is scene in the movie where mary catherine gets angry with her grandmother, runs upstairs and proceeds to slam the door to her bedroom over and over and over. i once thought this scene was funny. now, not so much. the mornings were horrible. on tuesday, the morning we went back to school, i tell you there was weepin', wailin', and gnashin' of teeth. it was like living out a southern baptist sermon on hell, fire, and damnation. all i was missing was the brimstone. the afternoons were not much better. the afternoons are when gb made a run at the mary catherine gallagher impersonations. so, my solution: put her to bed early. this child needs to get some sleep. she has always been a child that needed sleep to function. so, tuesday night brought and early bedtime. unfortunately, wednesday morning still had the need for several come to jesus meetings.

at this point, i resolve myself to the fact that this is just a phase (i used to be in sales, i can sell myself if need be). i remember a few rocky years around this age with my oldest. guess it's time to strap myself in and hang on, again. it is during this pep talk with myself that i proceed upstairs to get laundry out of gb's room. i find that if you combine unpleasant activities, they get done faster. gb's room is in a bit of chaos as her sister is crashing on her floor while her room is being painted. now, gb has a loft bed, and the loft bed was still covered with christmas bags. (she had been sleeping on the floor with the teen-aged child.) brilliance strikes me! she must not be sleeping well because she's on the floor. if she were to sleep in her own bed, surely, this would solve (or at least help) the attitude problem. i put down the laundry basket, climb up to the loft bed, impressed by my own parenting skills and intuition, then I made the discovery pictured below:



what the...???? it all makes sense now...the consecutive days in a row that gb seemed to be ping-ponging off of the furniture and then coming to me two days later begging for candy..."mom, you are so pretty. you are the best mom ever. can i PLEASE have some candy, PLEASE, PLEASE???" this explains why when i told her she could not have candy, that she should find a healthier snack, that she crumpled into a quivering pile on the floor. i guess i was not mistaken, she really did have the shakes. i thought it was all an act. who knew that this little 60lb. body was going through chocolate detox. she was jones-ing and i would not give her the godiva fix that she wanted. i guesstimate, factoring in that she got chocolate from both grandparents, a few aunts, and santa claus, gb ate around 30-40 pieces of godiva and lindt between december 26th and january 2nd or 3rd. i think we have passed the critical detoxification time period. things seem to better this week. however, as this is a difficult time in her recovery period, please see the following announcement:


attention well-meaning grandparents, sister, aunts, uncles, neighbors, and friends:
IF YOU ENCOUNTER THIS CHILD, DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT GIVE HER CHOCOLATE!

i realize that this kid is cute. i mean, she's mine and i would think she was cute even if she wasn't. but, beware: SHE KNOWS SHE'S CUTE AND SHE WILL USE IT AGAINST YOU. do not be fooled. call her mother, immediately.

tales of the feminist bread baker

ok. so i tend to obsess over things from time to time. little or big, there is no pattern to the things that capture my attention and distract me from an ever-present to do list. this is why school was so wonderful. i like thinking in semesters. i like having a syllabus for a class and rubric for projects/papers. these things keep me on task. they tell me what i must accomplish, especially if i want to make an a. and with the exception of my math class, i always wanted to make an a. now mind you, not much was accomplished outside of school during my tenure as a student. this is why the home in which i have been living for the past three years has many unfinished projects. anyway...

my latest obsession revolves around the food that i feed my family. i have been a member of the 'holy church of the high-priced organic' since my oldest daughter was about 7. it was at this time that i knew of a child, a girl my daughter's age, that started her monthly cycles. it freaked me out! i started doing some research, and well, i have been buying organic ever since. it has been hard in this current economy to continue to buy organic. we are currently a one income household with two income's worth of bills each month. organic eggs and milk are twice the price as regular. then , this weekend i became acquainted with the evils of high fructose corn syrup. this crap is in everything!!!!!! early sunday morning found me going through my pantry and fridge reading every label. the room started to spin and i began to hyperventilate. HFCS everywhere. about this time, my seven year old came down stairs and picked up the loaf of bread (a loaf of bread containing HFCS) off of the counter to make her usual peanut-butter toast when i tackled her and covered her with my body as if to protect her from a grenade or something. i think i weirded her out a little. anyway. it was on sunday that i decided i would start making my own bread. (when i announced this to one of my girlfriends, her response was, "you need a job.") well, that is true but, i think i would have had the same reaction even i were gainfully employed. there is a limited amount of bread without HFCS on the market and it is pricey. so, there was a link to a homemade bread recipe on one of the 'evils of HFCS' web pages, which is where i got the idea. so sunday after church... i. made. homemade. bread. and it didn't suck! below i have posted the pics from that afternoon. a shout out to my photographer, g. who said he took the action shots of me kneading the dough in 'sport mode'. (i have also posted pictures so that my mother will stop thinking i lied to her.)


this recipe was super easy. i had always pictured women who made their own bread as, well, um, amish. who has time? this first step, where you mix everything together, takes the longest. probably about 15 min, if you have everything set out.

here i am kneading the dough. this part was the best. it was very cathartic beating and working the dough. however, after making two batches of bread, i have learned that during this step you have to be careful not to add too much flour. i use less flour when i use my kitchenaid mixer, an appliance that i have just come to appreciate. but it is not as much fun, and the small child likes to help during the kneading part.


here is my little doughy-baby. all snuggly
and warm in her bowl. yes, bread is feminine! now here is where bread is time consuming... you have to let is rise, for like an hour. this is god's way of helping me with my instant gratification issues.






another action shot with the flour just a-flyin'. more kneading. you have to punch it down and get all of the air out so you can shape it into loaves.






here are my loaves ready to go in the oven. but you have to cover the loaf pans and let the dough rise one more time. i did take a picture, but this posting pictures thing is getting tedious and i am lazy. one more picture, though. finished product.






isn't she pretty? my little doughy-baby is all grown up with a loaf of her own. i told you bread was feminine!

the wrap up: things i learned while making bread...

1. too much flour makes the bread dense.
2. you can alter a recipe and nothing explodes. my first batch was white bread because the website that convinced me i could do this said white was the easiest way to get started. my second batch was honey wheat.
3. i can still have feminist tendencies and bake my own bread. once upon a time, i shunned anything domestic. cooking. cleaning...well, i still shun cleaning. but really anything that labeled me a 'homemaker', i tended to poo-poo. i felt like i was betraying all of my sisters by admitting that i liked to do homey stuff. i just couldn't talk about potty training or casserole making for hours on end...but now, as i am less than 365 days away from being a 40 year old woman, i am beginning to embrace many of these homemaker-esque tendencies. and i'm doing it willingly. i have thoroughly enjoyed baking bread for my family. i know that i have done something good for them. something that gives life to their lives, especially to my growing daughters. what could be more feminist than that?

i have also become obsessed with the high cost of organic eggs. i am currently scheming a way to raise chickens within the city limits in my subdivision that has covenants against livestock. i even have a blue print for my coop. another blog for another time...

a bad mommy moment

don't you just love those shining moments in life that serve to remind you that you are off of your game. my most recent reminder came this evening as i was in the office on my computer reading the news on the npr home page. now i have to admit that i was being a little smug, patting myself on the back, for not only keeping up with recent events but doing so on npr. how smart and sophisticated of me... (i actually changed my internet homepage before christmas because i hated all of the ads on yahoo, msn, etc. for aesthetic reasons) so, here i am in my smug-laden state when i hear from the family room..."boys, go get mama's plastic stripper shoes out of the lego box." (in a very southern accent a la joy turner from the trailer park). my name is earl was on and my seven year old was watching it...for god knows how long, no wonder it was so quiet. i love tivo and i don't love tivo. i do tivo my name is earl, a very guilty pleasure, but not for public viewing and not for my seven year old. i am sure it is only a matter of time before i get asked the question, "mom, what are stripper shoes?" wonderful.

limbo

the week between christmas and the new year always feels like, to me, a week spent living in limbo. the big hoorah of the holidays has past and in my spirit i feel an anxiousness to get on to what's next. it's not that i always know what's coming next, i am just really good at anticipating. some people might say that i have a problem with delayed gratification. perhaps. but if i could be allowed the luxury of explaining myself, i'd have to make the argument that i love do-overs. i love it when things are new and i love how the universe is concomitant with the do-over, the second chance (or third, or twentieth, or the hundredth...), the reset button. we see it in the cycles of the moon, the seasons, and in the earthly lives of humans. there are deaths and births on this planet everyday. so, i know that it's coming. my clean slate. my chance to do it again and get, some of it at least, right this time. so, with that said, someone might think that i have a resolution list a mile long this year, but i don't. not one single thing. what i do have is a word. one word...commitment. instead of declaring my intentions to lose 20 pounds or keep my car clean (i'm not giving up wine, sorry mom.). i want to commit myself to living a life that is lived well, this year, and every year, for the rest of my life. i want to commit my life to other people: to my kids, my husband, my friends, to people in need. and also to myself. because sometimes the failure to commit hurts us the most. we cheat ourselves and that is most egregious injustice of all; when we waste this precious gift that god has given to us.

instead of a resolution list, i have complied a list of things that i have learned about myself over this past year:

1. found out that i am no longer allergic to cats. who knew? apparently, your allergies change every couple of years. this info comes from my cousin, allyson. allyson has many allergies, she would be familiar with this information. i am so happy about this as i took in two strays early this fall. see lulu kitty: ( stray cat number two left for greener pastures, i hope).

2. being a mom is the single most significant thing that i will accomplish in this lifetime. i would do anything for my daughters. i am grateful that god saw fit to make me their momma.

















3. sometimes, when we pray, god has a totally different idea as to what the answer to said prayer will look like. about a year ago, i prayed for community. there were some major shifts that happened within my personal universe, but it is all for the best. god absolutely knows what s/he is doing.

4. speaking of god. i rediscovered my faith this past year in academic bible classes at a "secular" university of all places. (thank you wayne coppins and beth lorocca-pitts) i learned that jesus was (is) a revolutionary and i believe that the example that jesus lived in his earthly life is the way in which i want to follow. not some denominational version of jesus. the jesus of the words in red. the jesus that spoke of love. the jesus that had compassion for the sick and impoverished. the jesus who called the religious establishment a "brood of vipers." i could go on...

5. i learned that i do have the fortitude to follow through. after working toward a degree for over a decade, i finally graduated from college, with honors. you can do anything you want to do; work hard and pray harder.

i also learned that:
i love running on trails better than pavement. ( thank you, david ray)
i like brownies, a lot. perhaps, too much!
i like sitting in silence. nothing bad comes from an absence of sound.
true friends are more valuable that any amount of money.
stuff is just stuff. we really need so little to be happy.

thanks for reading my blog. i really enjoy writing, another thing i have learned about myself this year.

may god continue to bless us all in 2010.

cathartic

Main Entry: ¹ca·thar·tic

Pronunciation: \kə-ˈthär-tik\

Function: adjective

Etymology: Late Latin or Greek; Late Latin catharticus, from Greek kathartikos, from kathairein

Date: 1612

: of, relating to, or producing catharsis drugs>

— ca·thar·tic·al·ly \-ti-k(ə-)lē\ adverb

so, maybe i should have looked up catharsis.

Main Entry: ca·thar·sis

Pronunciation: \kə-ˈthär-səs\

Function: noun

Inflected Form(s): plural ca·thar·ses \-ˌsēz\

Etymology: New Latin, from Greek katharsis, from kathairein to cleanse, purge, from katharos

Date: circa 1775

1 : purgation
2 a : purification or purgation of the emotions (as pity and fear) primarily through art b : a purification or purgation that brings about spiritual renewal or release from tension
3 : elimination of a complex by bringing it to consciousness and affording it expression

i have been hearing the word cathartic a lot lately. it's just been one of those words that has been on my radar. thus, i have been prompted to use the word cathartic randomly, whenever i get the chance to throw it into conversation. further, i have been prompted investigate all things cathartic that happen in my life. ( and now that i have looked up the official definition of cathartic/catharsis, i feel prompted to investigate the word 'purgation'. great word. i think i'll try to use it in a sentence this week.) so like i said, i have been thinking about things that are cathartic. i know lots of people who are going through lots of stuff right now. and not fun stuff. the kind of stuff that sucks out loud kind of stuff. friends who have family with cancer or have cancer themselves. people who are loosing their homes to foreclosure. people have lost their health insurance. people who are out of work. (i love uplifting blogs!) so in this season of catharsis i find myself doing things like drinking hot tea because i like it and it's good for me. i make brownies on a regular basis and i enjoy them even though they are not good for me. i find that my home practice (that's yoga practice for those not in the know) is better and more consistent than it has ever been. i hang out with my cat and dogs. i laugh and sing with my daughters and i snuggle up to my husband when he is sleeping. the heat that comes off of him when he is asleep is like the soothing warmth that comes from a heating pad. it always makes me feel better. it is cathartic. but the definition of catharsis involves 'purgation' (see, i used it in a sentence. yay me!). so, when i get angry with someone, or i need to get something off of my chest, i write a letter that i will never mail. i sing songs at the top of my lungs. i cry. and i scream. in fact, if i find that slappey girls have been guilty of exchanging some bad juju with each other (ie. have been unkind) we scream it out. as this scenario usually happens in the car, we turn the radio up. loud. and proceed to scream. and scream again. and again. usually we end up laughing. occasionally, one of us has to stop and pee. but always, i end up snorting. and snorting my friends, is cathartic.

but mostly, i think that catharsis is about being kind to yourself. i think that catharsis is realizing that you are a child of god and then living in the grace that is available to all of us. especially from within ourselves. we all have the choice and then the ability to show grace to ourselves. catharsis is also about surrounding yourself with people who understand this principle and thus, live accordingly. it is about surrounding ourselves with people who are good for us. people who speak life and truth over our lives. much like a blessing.
about a year ago, a prayer grew from within the very center of my heart. i asked god to surround me with people who loved god and understood the principles about which i have been writing. i wanted to cultivate a community of individuals that could pray for me if i asked them to. i wanted a community, of women, especially, that, like i said, spoke life and truth. women who possessed wisdom. it hasn't happened the way that i would have expected, but i have that for which i prayed. and it is more beautiful than anything i could have created myself.

santa creeps me out

so, here's the picture. i am playing the role of barista at my local, neighborhood, non-profit, coffee shop on thanksgiving eve when in walks santa, mrs. claus, and their children. seriously. the man was obviously a santa impersonator. (is that the right word for a santa? i mean, if someone dresses up like elvis, aren't they an elvis impersonator? anyway.) so the claus family is hanging out when santa decides it is time to engage the barista, ie, me. as this gentleman is talking to me, the whole time i cannot focus on anything other than the fact that he looks like santa claus. then, (hold for dramatic pause) the conversation turns into a diatribe about how no one really practices true christianity anymore. the irony that these words were coming from the mouth of (a) santa was not lost on me. apparently, real christianity means telling all homosexuals that they are going to straight to hell, and not allowing women to participate in ministry. who knew????? those of you who know me would be proud, i guess. i still have holes in my tongue where my teeth bit straight through. i smiled and nodded and silently prayed for he and his family to leave as soon as was humanly possible. i am very vocal when it comes to these topics. especially, the women in ministry thing. i have in the past wrestled with the words of the apostle paul and in time made my peace. (thank you, dr. coppins. and thank you morna hooker for your illuminations regarding the first century context, but i digress...) anyway, as i was working in the coffee shop attached to my church and thus a representative of the above, i was not at liberty to, how should i put it? engage in lively banter.

my story does have a point. sort of. at least a point that makes sense to me. and it involves another rabbit trail. (i will understand if you decide to stop reading now...) i am not a fan of christmas. really never have been. call me a scrooge, grinch, whatever. i know that so many people look forward to december 25th. i look forward to december 26th. truly i do. i love january 1 even more. but this year, as i have tried so many times before, i have decided to be intentional about embracing AND enjoying the christmas season. i intend to deck the halls, kiss my husband under some mistletoe, and contemplate the meaning of the birth that is celebrated this time of year. i want to celebrate this next few weeks as genuinely and authentically as possible. i have to tell you. no offense meant to mr. claus, but he is not the kind of authentic i am looking for. i am pretty confident that i don't roll with santa's kind of christmas.
i am happily observing that, as i saw happen with thanksgiving, people are focusing on what is really important this year. family. friends. helping others. and being thankful for what we have. not what we 'need'. i don't know about you. (other than the fact that i could stand to be gainfully employed...) i know very few people who really need anything, myself included. i was talking with my aunt pam the other day. we were discussing how hard things have become, financially, for so many. we were discussing the fact that someone i know is losing their house to foreclosure this month. and pam said that even though things were bad, she hated to complain. she was still so very fortunate. she told me that she had never watched her children go hungry, let alone starve to death. she had always been able to buy her children medicine when they were sick. and no one in her family has ever had to sleep on the floor of a mud hut. you get the picture. i am grateful for pam and her perspective. christmas will be over on december 26th. it is my hope that i will carry this perspective of gratitude and an understanding of what i 'need' with me well into 2010 and beyond. a very merry christmas and happy holiday to everyone.

i miss my trail

i miss my trail. i am not quite sure how this has happened. well, actually i do know why i haven't made it out to do any trail runs, lately. between flooding at the park, sports activities for the kids, and trips out of town, it has been a matter of fitting it in on the treadmill or simply doing what lots of runners do; put on my shoes and walk out my front door (i'm not a fan of either). so, to get to a trail requires planning ahead and travel. (i am always good for a road trip. it's the planning ahead that seems to vex me.) my favorite place to run is little mulberry park in gwinnett county, ga about 35 minutes away from my house. while i'm out there i simply cannot believe that these secluded woods are in the middle of such a hectic place.

so, i have been running, just not where i would prefer. today i was on my treadmill about 2.5 miles into my run when it happened... that happy place for me where my running feels good. my body gets going. my breathing and foot strikes are in a hypnotic rhythm. and there are some killer tunes on my ipod. before you know it i am doing the 'thankful thing'. those who have run with me have witnessed this crazy little ode to joy that erupts from my soul. i start thanking jesus for my lungs and my heart. i thank jesus that my legs and feet have carried me this far. and then i thank jesus for the trees. on occasion, i have even been know to stop and hug one or two most unsuspecting, very stately, trees. i always take them by surprise. but they always, most graciously, hug back. trees have good manners. especially, in the south.

but today, there were no trees to hug. there are no trees in my basement. just things that are counterproductive to my running like a tv, comfy chairs, and a bar. running for me is more than exercise. it is a chance for me to connect to god. my version of god anyway. when i run i talk to god; my own jesus of the trail. much like ricky bobby in 'talladega nights', i have my own version of what jesus looks and acts like. while, ricky bobby's favorite version was the "baby jesus", my jesus of the trail is a combination of sayid from lost and mary catherine gallagher's jesus from the movie 'superstar', a la will ferrel. so, the jesus i meet on the trail has an amazing sense of humor! we laugh at ourselves. well, this is usually a time when i laugh at myself. ( i think jesus would laugh at himself, but i am not willing to risk blasphemy and say for certain that he does.) while i love running, it is often a struggle for me. sometimes, especially if it has been a while since my last run, it can be a time when i want to beat myself up for something that i did or didn't do. like kicking myself for holding onto the childhood notion that mac n cheese counts a vegetable or the very adult notion that sangria is it's own food group. ( i make sangria with mangoes and raspberries, copious amounts of nutritional value are represented here). laughing at myself keeps the mood light and reminds me that beating myself up is a really bad habit. and my trail jesus knows me well. he shows me grace. after all, running is a learning process with grace at its core.

so, i said all of that to say this: i need to get back to my trail. i need to fall into that hypnotic rhythm that comes from the combination of my breath and foot strikes. i miss my trees. i need to hug them and have them hug me back. i miss my trail.