Pictures at work

I have a new job.  I work for a local school district as a secretary with many hats and gears to switch between.  For the most part, I like my job.  I have my own office and have covered the wall next to my desk and the filing cabinet behind me with pictures of my kids (and a couple with my husband).  Like any job, some days are better than others.  Regardless of what kind of day it is, when I need a mental break from the spreadsheets, the forms, the computer screen, or even if I don't need a mental break, I look to my left and look through the pictures of my kids.  And I'm amazed.  How much they've grown.  How much they've changed.  How much I'VE changed and my husband too.  Not just in how we look, but who we are and have become since we became parents.  Everyday, we see our kids and we know they are growing and changing.  We witness their personalities evolving right before our very eyes!  But it's not until we look at a picture, watch a home video or measure them on the height chart that we realize how much they've changed in such a short amount of time.

I am a working mom.  I enjoy being a working mom.  I love my kids and they are part of the reason of why I work.  And why I need to see them while I'm at work.  To remind me to really look at them when I get home and see for myself, in the flesh who they are now, so I can remember when I look at their pictures tomorrow, next week, next month, next year.  1,000 words doesn't cover what I feel when I look at their pictures and look forward to getting home and holding them.

Our Children's Daily Bruises and Accomplishments

We equip our children to be the best they can be and then send them out into the world every morning, hoping we did our best.  When they come home physically or emotionally bruised from the day's adventures, it's our job, as parents, to hug them, make sure there's no major damage, and equip them to learn from the bruises.  When they come home excited and eager from their day's adventures, it is our job, as parents, to hug them, celebrate with them, and equip them to learn from their accomplishments.

Empathy. Compassion.  Kindness.  Thoughtfulness.  Strength.  Resiliency.  Courage.  The list is long. When our kids are little, we have to put these tools in their toolboxes for them.  We equip them.  They build with them.

Our job is not to do for them, it's to teach them to do for themselves.   Always hug.  Always build on experiences.

Pile 'O Popcorn

My son is a Cub Scout.  A Wolf, to be exact.  Last year, there was a changing of the guard, so to speak, in our Pack as the former treasurer was leaving to follow her son to the Boy Scouts.  Somehow, I accepted the title "Treasurer".  As many of you know, in the fall, Scouts across the country participate in the annual popcorn sales drive.  Well, when I became treasurer, as there were no other committee members yet, I also became the "Popcorn Kernal".  Yes, you read that correctly.  That's what us people who run the popcorn sales are called.  "Popcorn Kernals".  We set up "Show & Sells", where the boys sell popcorn that we have on hand.  We organize the "Take & Sell" orders, which are the orders the boys take by selling off of the popcorn flyers.  We manage online sales, money, prizes and yes, popcorn.  This is what part of my dining room has looked like since the end of September:



There's more to the left of the boxes stacked with Kiddo's bunny "Cubby" protecting them.  And there's more to come when I go to pick up the "Take & Sell" orders.  Fortunately, popcorn season is almost over, and I'll get my dining room back.  Don't get me wrong: our Pack did really well selling this year, really embodied the "Do your best" motto of the Cub Scouts, and there are packs out there that I'm sure could fill someone's basement with boxes of popcorn and sell it all.  But I'm looking forward to not looking at boxes of popcorn.  Until next September.

The Fist Bump

It's a moment in time.  It's one of my favorites.  My husband and The Kiddo, walking toward the Pacific Ocean, talking about who knows what.  And at the moment my sister raised her camera to take their picture, a decision was made and they fist bumped to solidify it. 

Solidarity. Those two have it in spades. 95% of the time, Kiddo will side with Daddy on any topic, esepcially if it's at the comical expense of Mommy.   But watch out boys because Mommy has a little girl now, and she can work the charm (esepcially on her Daddy!).  So, keep on bumping fists boys, because you never know when the girls will strike and you're gonna need all the solidartiy you can muster!

For my sister: Cleaning a ceramic stove top

Okay, so apparently how to clean a ceramic stove top is not common knowledge.  Picture this:

While at my sister's preparing for our mom's surprise birthday party (yep, she helped us clean for her own party she didn't know she was going to have!), I walk into the kitchen to the metalic sound of my sister and mom scraping the stove with spoons.  Yes.  Spoons.  So I ask them, "Um, guys?  You do know there's an easier way?"  The looked up, sweat beading on their browns, with shocked, yet hopeful looks.  "Really?!"  Yes, really.  I give you: the magic of a razor blade.

1)  Get a razor blade.  You can get them from pretty much any grocery/dollar/hardware store in packs of 5 for darn cheap.


2)  Hold the blade at about a 45 degree angle and gently scrape away gunk.


3) Wipe clean.


4) Voila!  Clean stove!


Note: do not use a razor blade to attempt to clean marble surfaces - you'll only scratch/dig into the marble.

Time for Kettle Corn: Making your own at home in 10 easy steps!

I love kettle corn.  The sweet and the salt, the crunch and unpredictableness of when you'll get a really sweet piece or salty one.  I decided to try and make my own at home many years ago, and it worked!  I recently decided to resurect my recipe and I've had a couple people ask me how I make it.  So, for your kettle corn pleasure, a step by step guide to making your own kettle corn!

What you'll need:
Popcorn pot of your choosing (see "Pick your pot")
Oil 2 - 3 Tablespoons(vegetable, canola, blend...no olive oil!)
Popping corn
Butter 2 Tablespoons (not margarine!)
Sugar
Salt

1) Pick your pot.  I am  huge fan of Revereware copper bottom pots for making popcorn.  My parents used them and soon after I was married, and lamenting that I didn't have a proper popcorn pot, my dad and sister found one for me at a thrift store and cleaned it up for me.  I need a larger one now that there are 4 popcorn eaters in my family!  Why Revereware?  It's a very light pot and has a light lid, which allows the popcorn the freedom to move and easily raise the lid when I've put too much in the pot (which is all the time now because I'm trying to make bigger batches).

2)

Put about 2-3 T oil (depending on the size of your pot) in the bottom of the pot and tilt the pot to coat the bottom.  It should not be a puddle, but more than a thin coating, so add more if you need to.

3)

Add popcorn - enough to cover the bottom of the pot.

4)

Dice up the 2T of butter into smaller chunks

5)

Evenly distribute the butter chunks.

6)

Using a large spoon (table spoon?), scoop up a spoonful of sugar (it does help the medicine go down, right?).

7)

Liberally sprinkle over oil, popcorn and butter.  I do not end up using the entire spoonful.  Eyeball it for your own taste preference.


8)  Put the lid on your pot and set the burner to med heat.


9) Stay nearby!  When you hear the butter starting to sizzle, swirl the pot to help evenly distribute the melting butter and sugar.  When you hear the popcorn start to pop, swiftly push the pot back and forth over the burner.  Make sure you have your bowl ready!  When the popping slows to a pop or two every second or so, pour the popcorn into your bowl.

10)

Salt to taste!  Enjoy!

I am a mom.

When you look at this picture, what do you see?  Mom and two kids at the beach, who look pretty happy (the little one doesn't look too fond of the wind).  Here's what you don't see:  how the children were born (vaginally or c-section; natural or medically induced labor; epidural or med free); if they are adopted or natural children; if they were breastfed, bottle fed or both; stay-at-home mom, work-at-home-mom, or work-out-of-the-home mom; home-schooled, public or private schooled; if they were fed only organic or if they had McDonald's on the way to the beach.  You cannot tell any of that information by looking at this picture.  Here's what I can tell you about that mom and her kids: she loves them deeply, and quite frankly, doesn't care how they got into her arms, as long as they got there.  She dreamed of being a mom from the time she was a little girl.  She's not a perfect mom, but she does the best she can.  I am that mom.  And I'll be damned if anyone says I'm less of a mother because of how those children came into my world.  Who cares?  They are here and they are mine.  The "Mom Wars" need to stop.


*Inspired by "The Unnatural Mom" article on CNN.com: http://ireport.cnn.com/docs/DOC-1033811