Drained

Well, I did it. 30 days of posts in November. No cheating, no back-posting. I even came home early from a scrapbooking night out to make sure I got my post in! It was a little tense one Sunday evening when the power went out just as I was about to do my post--and didn't come on until quite late. But I still squeezed it in there.

I think that the ability to finish what we start is a trait that most people admire. Sometimes, though, the tenaciousness of holding on goes beyond intelligence and determination to ignorance and stubbornness.

The last few days I have been seriously questioning some of the commitments I have made. The commitments are all good things, in themselves. But are they adding up to a whole that is beating me, overwhelming me with things that fill up my calendar? Are they leaving too little time for me to "recharge my batteries," so I can be the best wife and mother I can be?

And if the answer is really "yes", which my tired self would whole-heartedly answer at the moment, which things have to go? That is always the difficult thing--the pruning. Should it be the volunteer work that helps to shape a generation of youngsters but brings no income, or some of the income-producing work that imparts knowledge and skills one might argue are equally invaluable, but which is more time-consuming?

I don't know. What I do know, right now, is that I'm drained. I have two weeks to catch up on eight months of paperwork for my eBay business. And then, when I start teaching again, what happens? Does the day-to-day paperwork get shoved aside for another year's blitz next December? The very thought of it makes me tired.

Ask me again next week. Ask me when I am not so tired. Ask me when my body stops wreaking havoc with my emotions.

But, while I will continue to ask myself these questions, I will not be doing it here. I am taking a little break, so that I can figure out which energy-draining holes in my calendar to plug.

For now, I am substituting with chocolate.

Talena Is Not Updating Her Status

I don't feel like blogging today. Actually, I didn't feel like doing much of anything today. And yet, I did most of it anyway--including this.

My life is one long string of obligations to be met it seems at times. Not most times. Just times like this, when I am tired, and all I really want to do is sit by the fire drinking hot chocolate and dive into my knitting or reading all day, but instead I have to deal with upset customers and upset kids and upset tummies and upset tempers and upsets of many other sorts, as well.

Most times, my life is not a burden. Or, more correctly, the obligations of my life are not burdensome--they are something I do with joy, knowing that I have chosen this for myself, and that I get fulfillment from the many ways I serve others. That there will, in all likelihood, come a time when I may wish for a little less tranquility by the fire and a little more rambunctious noisiness surrounding me.

But then I lose track of time. I lose track of my priorities. I lose track of my keys and my shopping list. And I get tired. And maybe, just maybe, a little hormonal. I lose track of that, too.

On Facebook, (for those of you who are not part of what I am now referring to as "the way THEY are going to take over the world,") under your name there is a "status" line in which you can put all kinds of crazy things. The only thing is, it always begins with "[Insert name here] is..." While people mostly try to stay within the grammatical restrictions this implies, sometimes you see one where they have obviously said "to heck with grammar" and restarted a sentence of their own. (This last point has absolutely nothing to do with the following paragraph.)

The other day, I was on there and noticed my friend Colleen's status bar read "Colleen is not updating her status." This was one of the funniest things I had seen all night. The only way for it to read that was if she had updated her status to read that!

So. This blog post is my way of saying:

"Talena is not updating her status."

The Pros and Cons of the Ballet--but mostly Cons.

Everything might be beautiful at the ballet, but the truth is...

...we'd rather hear the song about it.

There wasn't enough singing along with all that dancing. Granted, it was beautiful, well-controlled dancing. Yes, we were only fifteen rows back, in almost the dead-center of the hall, so we could practically see the dancers' pimples underneath their make-up (Jason really scored on those seats!). But, there were a few things that made us decide that we probably wouldn't do a ballet again:

1. This paragraph in the synopsis: "Siegfried enters a clearing near the lake. Through the trees he sees the beautiful Swan Queen Odette. He immediately falls in love with her. She is terrified by his presence, but he assures her that he will never shoot her and pledges his undying love. As dawn approaches, the swans are compelled to return to the lake. Von Rothbart appears and beckons to Odette. She is helpless and must obey. Siegfried is unable to stop her from leaving and is left alone in despair." Um...they call that "love" nowadays, eh?
   
2. As exciting as that sounds, it took nearly twenty minutes of dancing. Die Hard, this was not. We like plots that move along at a little better pace. Think Moulin Rouge, Phantom of the Opera, or even The Sound of Music, for Pete's sake!
3. It seemed that the so-called "story-line" was only a framework to give an excuse to show off a lot of dancing, even if it was really good dancing. Because of this, the plot is extremely simple. For instance, we are never told why von Rothbart feels the need to keep twenty-odd girls enslaved to him by a form-changing enchantment with no apparent purpose. Maybe he just really likes white birds. Or maybe he was just a dirty old man who liked to watch them transform from swans to girls, before they could get their clothes on. (There was no nudity on the stage, don't worry. But if it were to really happen, I am sure the girls would not transform fully clothed, don't ya think?)
4. Mighty convenient that the only way the spell could be broken was if a young man makes a vow of undying love and faithfulness to the Queen of the Swans, and who is the first person that the hormonal Prince Siegfried should light upon but she? (Phew! Thank goodness he didn't see one of the chorus girls first--although it might have made the plot more interesting!)

Okay, enough ragging on the world's most popular ballet. It had it's good points. Besides the great dancing, I would have to say that of all the ways to tell a story about swan-girls, a ballet is probably the most suiting medium to do it in. Watching eighteen beautiful girls in stiff white tutus prance around the stage in unison is really something to behold. Also, absolutely everyone on stage has a really great arse. (Well, except maybe the Queen Mother.) You can easily tell, because ballet tights leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.

And any excuse to dress to the nines is a good one!

Alright, alright, enough about that. Jason and I managed to squeeze in a few other fun things in our "off hours" on this whirlwind trip.

Our deluxe hotel room, which we got free with Aeroplan miles. Nice!

We splurged on Prime Rib for supper. So melt-in-your-mouth delicious! This was Jason's meal, after he'd already eaten his Yorkshire Pudding and started on the meat.

Jason and I goofing off in a self-portrait at West Edmonton Mall--just after our "breakfast" Texas Scramble wrap at 1 p.m. (We weren't in any hurry to leave the hotel room this morning.) I dropped a piece of hash brown on my jeans, and the word-of-the-day came from Jason's mouth: "You're doing good, there! Are we going to have to call in a HazMat team to clean that up?" The real score was when he got to use HazMat team again not half an hour later when "he had to call a HazMat team to find a stall that could be used" in the men's washroom. Sadly, he missed the opportunity to use it a third time when we both spilled burger fixings on ourselves whilst eating our supper in the dark in the van on the way home.

Jason and Maximus Aurelius. (We have no idea who this is supposed to be, so that's what we decided to call him.)

Pirates in the mall!

We made it home, safe and sound. I've now ignored the flashing "messages waiting" light on my phone and put off looking at my e-mail as long as possible, so I better get to it.

So, if you are more of a musical buff like me, you might want to pull out The Swan Princess instead of subjecting yourself to the more costly and less-talkative Swan Lake. Or you might not. Just sayin'.

I Finally Get to Sleep

This is the kind of craziness that ensues on weeks when I lead worship. But usually I at least have a couple of days to get my songs organized and together and get them out to people with what could be called "reasonable" notice. However, with us not getting back until Wednesday evening, I wanted to get this out of the way tonight.

My contacts are starting to take over my eyeballs, and my brain is starting to feel a little funny. So I'm going to go remove them and rest it respectively, and hope that I didn't forget anything that needs to be done before we go tomorrow. (Which is actually "today", but since I haven't been to sleep yet, I'm calling it "tomorrow.")

Hey! You in the back--stop laughing! I don't always forget something.

(Okay, sometimes I just forget less stuff. I hope this is one of those times.)

Talk to you on Wednesday night!

Everything Is Beautiful At The Ballet

The following blog post contains scenes of jealousy-inducing mushiness, and men in tights. Reader discretion is advised.

In the morning, I will be leaving to go see Moscow Ballet's Great Russian Swan Lake in Edmonton.

My super-awesome husband bought me tickets for my birthday. (Which is why he couldn't take more time off for the Josh Groban concert in August, in case any of you were wondering why I went with my brother instead of my hubby to go listen to a young, attractive man sing romantic songs in romance languages.)

I have never been to a ballet before, and I am super-excited. So excited, in fact, that the most imaginative superlative I can come up with to describe anything right now is "super."

The only thing I don't usually like about watching dance performances is that the story is not always clear to me. However, in this case I have a head-start, since The Swan Princess is one of my favourite animated movies of all time! Yes, I am aware that this is not a direct translation from stage to screen, but it was enough that when I read a synopsis of the ballet on-line, I was already familiar with the major plot-points, even if they did change the name of the prince.

So, we are off early in the morning for Edmonton.

"We" meaning just. Jason. And. Me.

Stop and let that sink in for a moment.

This will be the first time in almost four years, and only the second since having children, that Jason and I will have a night all to ourselves, with no children to go pick up, take home, tuck in bed, wake us up an indefinite and unknown number of times in the night, or morning, feed breakfast to, try to compete with for conversation time.

Today, after our super-busy weekend, and a week where doing more laundry seemed like it would suck every last vestige of my joie de vivre from my body (so I therefore didn't), I did a week-and-a-half's-worth in less than twenty-four hours. This may not seem that spectacular until you realize that this is normally a three-day affair.

PLUS! I got Jude to start helping me sort through the toys to decide which ones had outlived their usefulness in our family. (In the past I have tried to make this a yearly event, but sadly, this is the first time since moving here that we have done it. Needless to say, the toys had reproduced to the point that they were starting to mount organized resistance to being straightened up, and the chaos in our basement is nearly complete. It was definitely time.)

All this with the sing-song of Swan Lake! Edmonton! Night alone with my honey! repeating over and over in my brain.

The exhilaration is beyond description, so instead of trying, I will leave a teaser for those of you who wish you were me right now.



Swan Lake! Edmonton! Night alone with my honey!...

I'm the Mom, That's Why!

Bonus post for today. Thanks to Colleen for sending me this:

Public Service Announcement

We interrupt your regularly-scheduled Scrapbook Sunday to bring you this video of Jude's First Performance. Enjoy.




(I missed the first two notes. Darnit, that kid is quick!)

Today was the Winter Recital I host for my students. Jude was first up on the marquis. The rest of the recital went well--I'm so proud of all of my students! Days like this really bring out the rewarding part of my work.

Your regularly-scheduled programming will resume next week.

Down the hall, First door on the left

At least, those are the directions I would give you, if it had a door!

However, if privacy isn't a concern of yours, our main bathroom is finally open for business! (In other words, to anyone four and under. Or if all you need to do is wash your hands.)

The floor fish at the entrance. It's so pretty, and because it is different than the rest of the floor, I catch myself subconsciously stepping over it instead of onto it. Kind of like when I was a kid and would purposely avoid stepping on sidewalk cracks, not because I am superstitious, but because it became a popular game while I was in elementary school (accompanied by the sing-song "Can't step on a crack or you'll break your mother's back.) It became habit. To this day, if I am walking down a cast cement sidewalk, I avoid the cracks, if possible. This fish has too many cracks. I have to step over onto a safe 13"x13" tile, where there is plenty of room for my foot.

See the blue "dot" tiles? I actually wanted to do a whole row of a contrasting colour like this, but guess what? This was the only box the flooring store had. And they'd been discontinued. I couldn't even order more of a different colour--I can't remember why. The whole product had been discontinued. So I took their one box at a discounted price, remembering that the free tile stash we used on the rest of the walls included little 2"x2" tiles of a non-contrasting colour, and decided to make it work. And voilà, you see the little repeated pattern in the photograph. I even had 3 blue tiles left over. Another creative solution to an otherwise perplexing problem.

The paint on the door is drying--hopefully, we will be hanging it by the end of the weekend. Yippee!

Hope your Saturday was happy, friends!

Celebrations

Tonight we had Jabin's birthday party. Unlike last year, there were actually guests, and my camera battery (mostly) worked the whole night. I actually had Amanda M. videoing the "bringing-in-the-cake-while-singing-'Happy Birthday'" ritual, at the end of which the camera shut itself off for some reason, therefore all the data in the clip was lost. Phooey. But we got lots of great still shots.




Here's a "verbal snapshot" of where Jabin is at right now:

Favourite adult: Mommy

Favourite kid: Emily Magnusson (Every time he sees her he shouts out "Emee!")

Favourite book: Happy Baby Colours ("Wead?" while shoving it into your bottom lip, or the body part closest to your face that he can reach.)

Favourite foods: Bananas and pancakes ("Nanas!")

Foods he dislikes: Cheese, most of the time, pasta sometimes, fish in pretty much any form, not a big fan of meat, either.

Favourite phrase: "Mommy? I hungee!" or "Daddy? I hungee!" Also "What doin'?"

Favourite activities: Reading books; playing with toys; wrestling with Daddy and his brothers; playing playdough ("Day-dough!"); colouring (pronunciation unreproducable in print)--unfortunately, not quite constrained only to paper, yet; going potty (!); playing with Emily.

Favourite Feature-Length movie: Cars - This is the only movie he will sit and watch through the whole thing. Most things on a T.V. (on the rare occasions he actually gets to watch something) hold his interest for all of 5-10 minutes.

Favourite Characters: Bob and Larry from VeggieTales (all the characters from this show are referred to as "Bob"; Bob the Builder and friends; the penguins from 3-2-1 Penguins, Spiderman ("Piyermah!" He is quite proud of his Spiderman pajamas and slippers. I keep meaning to post a picture, but keep forgetting to take one!)

Most noticeable character traits: Everyone that meets Jabin comments about how smiley he is. He does smile most of the time, and for the most part is a pretty even-tempered, easy-to-get-along-with kid. However, like all two-year-olds, he has his moments, which are becoming more frequent all the time--pushing his limits and seeing what Mom and Dad will let him get away with.
He also is going through this "big helper" stage. He wants to help with everything--cooking, emptying the dishwasher, loading the dishwasher, setting the table, helping Mommy practice piano (that one goes over well), folding clothes. If only all his good intentions translated to actual usefulness! Oh, well--we'll try not to quash the desire out of him before the skills catch up!
(A surefire spark to one of those afore-mentioned "moments" is to ask him to stop "helping!")

Recent Milestones: Jabin is almost completely daytime-potty-trained! Except for the rare occasions when he has had to poop in his diaper before I get him out of his crib in the morning, he has made it to the potty for #2 for over a month now. Also, any visitors to our home over the last two months have quite politely hidden any discomfort they may have felt over the fact that our youngest child was wearing only his birthday suit from the waist down. (We tried to make sure the shirts were long enough to be somewhat modest, but not so long as to get soiled every time he used the potty.) Well, for the last week or so, he has actually started wearing a pull-up (for some reason he prefers that over underwear still, even though he keeps it dry 95% of the time) or just pants, so the more modest among you don't have to work so hard to hide embarrassment--and he stays warmer, too!
Jabin is more than ready to move out of his crib, but we are waiting until we can get a bunk bed to shuffle everybody "up one" before he gets his freedom.
Jabin has been my earliest talker by far, even being "above average" for his age group. This has made our lives a whole heckuvalot easier. What surprises us is the fact that not only is he using phrases and expressions, he uses them appropriately! Every day or two he comes out with something new that absolutely floors us. This boy's sharper than a tack, I tell ya'--gonna keep Mommy and Daddy on their toes!

I just re-read his birthday post from last year. It's amazing how much difference only a year can make at this age. I look forward to the changes that the next year will bring in our littlest man, even while I mourn the loss of every last vestige of "baby-ness" for what is almost certainly our last child. (I know God has overcome surgeries before, but He seems less likely to bless a couple with more children that has taken such drastic measures to prevent such blessings from coming. Sigh.)

Along the line of "blessings", Jabin has definitely been one to us. Our prayer for him is that as he grows, he will continue to be a blessing to all those around him. Amen.

Clothes I Used To Wear

In my closet, hanging there
Beneath the dust and disrepair
Is evidence I used to dare
To don these clothes I used to wear.

In another time and place
I'd carefully paint up my face
And select my dress with care
When I wore these clothes I used to wear.

I'd choose a gown that went with pearls
The stuff of dreams for teenage girls
Or one that sparkled here and there
These are the clothes I used to wear.

In those days, I had dreams I'd grace
The stages of place after place
To take the songs I had and share
Them in these clothes I used to wear.

But now, in jeans and sweaters warm
I pass my days, forget the charm
Of special nights in spotlight's glare
When I wore the clothes I used to wear.

So why do I stand here, closet wide
Unzip the dress bags and peek inside
And pull from what is hiding there
A "once-upon" I used to where?

Tonight, for a minute or three
I'll grace a stage, I'll sing for free
I'll take the chance the dream's still there
Concealed in clothes I used to wear.

Happy Two!

I can't imagine life without you, my little sunshine!

And It's Not Even Sunday...

Today I shirked (almost) all my household responsibilities so I could visit with my friend Amanda, look after kids, and digitally scrapbook two pages.

The laundry will still be there tomorrow, right?

(I'm only posting one page, as the other one has someone else's kid as the subject matter, for which I have not asked permission to post on the internet.)


Also! I am nearly finished boot #2 of my still-evolving slipper pattern--"Cabled Slipper Boots." At first glance, they beg the question, "Okay, but why?"

Because I can, that's why. (Mostly, I wanted to see if it could be done. And it could!)

I have no photos yet--I will post them of the finished product soon.

Happy Tuesday, friends!

Mulligan, Please

By nine-thirty this morning, I wanted a do-over.

When my alarm clock buzzed at 7 a.m., I accidentally turned it off instead of hitting the snooze so I could wake up gracefully and gradually. That would probably not have been a big deal, if it weren't for the fact that the average amount of sleep I have gotten per night in the last ten to fourteen days has been five-and-a-half to six hours--a good three hours short of what my body prefers. So instead of having at least a semi-conscious part of my brain to rouse me from sleep, I was instantly dead to the world again--waking with a start at 8:24.

At 8:24 on a school morning, I should be getting the kids into their coats and boots and heading out to the van. After the first surge of adrenaline subsided, I let my head flop back onto the pillow to consider the options.

First off, it was 8:24 and not only had I just woke up, but it was only a few minutes later that I heard the kids get up. "The kids" in this case meaning Jude and Noah, obviously, since Jabin is still in his crib. (He's ready to move out, but we are lacking a bed to move Noah into from the toddler bed, so for now everyone is staying put.) So, I was looking at a good hour before I could get the family dressed, eaten, and ready to go. When Jude is only in school for three hours total per day, is it worth it to take him in an hour late?

I thought of the number of days he had missed recently due to illness, and also how he had missed Friday because my van keys had taken a site-seeing tour of DMI in Jason's coat pocket, and decided that yes, it was worth it.

I had just come to this conclusion, when I heard four little-boy feet pounding their way across the house to my bedroom, and two little-boy voices loudly blaming the other for peeing on Jabin's (carpeted) bedroom floor.

Ugh.

This is not the first such "peeing-on-Jabin's-carpet" episode. It has happened at least once (and I think actually twice) before. Jude blamed Noah, and at the time, Noah did not deny it.

Following this, there were two mornings (in only a few days' time-frame) where Jude came running to tell me that Noah had peed on his own bed first thing. Meaning--he took his training pants off and peed on top of his bed!

While I was surprised, he had peed on Jabin's floor, and I just could not believe that Jude would urinate on his brother's bed for any reason. So despite the fact that Noah said Jude did it, he got thoroughly spanked and scolded (still only two firm swats--the maximum number of swats I ever give. When I am that angry, my reaction is to not do anything but speak rather strongly about the action committed until I can calm down, so I don't do something I regret. Especially for a crime I did not witness first-hand.)

The way Noah acted, though, got me questioning Jude's story. Jude has been known to lie to us before, but I just couldn't conceive why he would do something like that. However, I could see Noah maybe doing something like that if he was actually trying to get to the potty in time, but only managed to get his pull-up off. However, when Jason and I discussed it later, I put forth my suspicions that it may, in fact, be Jude doing it. Especially after the first time, and Noah got disciplined so severely--he is not the type of kid to do something so stupid when he knows the consequence is so sever. However, Jude is the type of kid to do something so stupid if he knows he could get his brother in big trouble by it. (I'm thinking that Jude has taken the rap for Noah enough times that he got some kind of perverse pleasure out of his revenge scheme after getting away with it so cleanly the first time.)

So, when Jude came running over to our room first thing last holiday Monday, again blaming Noah for peeing on his bed, I started weeping silently at yet another day spent disinfecting the bed, washing sheets and floors and toys, while Jason thoroughly questioned Jude about his truthfulness.

Usually, when you ask Jude several times about whether he is telling the truth, and especially if Jason is doing the asking, he will crack. He is also, in general, becoming more truthful, since this is a topic that has been dealt with more severely and repeatedly than anything else. When a crime is committed, the worst offense, and the most harshly disciplined, is lying about it. Jude is finally starting to "get it." However, a little to my surprise, he confirmed our suspicions and came clean about peeing on Noah's bed.

He got in BIG TROUBLE for that one. No spanking, but the discipline he received was far worse (to him). He was the one responsible for getting the bed cleaned up, sheets in the washer, and floor sterilized. He also lost his movie-watching privileges for three days--the first time he has ever received a "grounding" from anything for more than a day. This was an even bigger deal when his brothers got to watch something, and he had to stay out of the room and find something else to do. It was an opportunity to keep driving home the ternary lesson we were hoping to impress: 1. Never, never, NEVER lie. ALWAYS tell the truth! 2. Don't do stuff just to get someone in trouble, and 3. Pee in the toilet, for crying out loud!

That was why I was so surprised when the boys came into my room hurling blame at each other this morning.

I made them both clean it up. Then I gave them three opportunities for one of them to 'fess up that they did it. With each time I asked the question and received the same finger-pointing answers, they lost another day of privileges with video games and movie-watching. (I'm not sure this was the best form of punishment for Noah, but I wasn't quite sure what to do at the time.) They both stuck to their guns, so after three day's worth, I stopped. However, I continued to question them both throughout the day, even asking Jabin who had peed on his floor. While his communication skills are pretty amazing for an almost-two-year-old, I don't think he really understood the question. Either that, or he no longer remembered the incident I was referring to.

I'm pretty sure Noah did it. Jude never wavered in his story, even after some rather intense questioning. Noah's blame assignment was always rather gleeful and giddy, in much the same manner he adopts when he is mimicking something he has seen someone else do. Plus, while Jude's lesson in peeing on Noah's bed is still fairly recent, it's been a while since Noah got in trouble for peeing on Jabin's floor, and his little brain has probably forgotten that he, too, can be in BIG TROUBLE. However, fresh in his memory will be that you can get someone else in trouble by doing something bad and blaming it on them.

So, while Noah is being disciplined for not telling the truth, Jude is also being disciplined for not telling the truth consistently. When he got hurt that he was being disciplined for something he insisted he didn't do, I simply reminded him that I couldn't be sure he was telling the truth because he sometimes lies to us, and had done so recently. Hopefully, this will be a lesson we can impress enough over the next few days: That no matter how much trouble you get in for telling the truth, it is still less than getting caught in a lie, and that you'll get into less trouble in the long run if people know that you consistently tell the truth, even if it means you get into trouble for it. It may be a big lesson for a five-year-old, but hopefully he grasps it.

By the time I was on my way home from dropping Jude off at school, there were some new and alarming warning lights on on my van's dashboard, which a quick flip through the manual told me meant that the brakes are failing and that we need to get them looked at right away.

It just made me wish I could rewind my morning by about three hours and start from scratch, you know?

Fortunately, the rest of the day went much better. (Monday ran out of tricks early this week! Yes!)

Scrapbook Sunday #3

Scrapbook Sunday is coming! The layout is mostly finished, but partway through I decided to go watch a movie with my honey, and now if I don't get this up here quick, my NaBloPoMo will be NaBlownPoMo.

Check back later for the art!

-----------------

Okay, here we go. These photos are of my brother when we were having dinner before the Josh Groban concert in August. Incidentally, this restaurant we were eating at is actually where the bull lives, just down on the opposite corner from the patio we were sitting on.

More good news about tea

This is an excerpt from an article on Dr. Mercola. I recommend popping over there to read the contents in full (about a 90 second read.)

Black Tea Shows Blood Sugar Benefits: Americans drink about 2.25 billion gallons of tea each year -- that’s about 132 cups of tea per person per year. While this sounds like a lot, you may actually need five to 10 cups of most green or black teas a day to reap many of their protective benefits.

Still, one of the active ingredients in tea, epigallo-catechin gallate (EGCG), really does show potential to fight a wide range of diseases, including:

• AIDS
  
• Diabetes
  
• Cancer
  
• Alzheimer’s disease

Plus, a growing body of research suggests that the wonderful polyphenols in tea can lower your cholesterol, triglyceride levels and blood pressure, and even help to protect your bones.

I still believe that water should be your beverage of choice, and should make up the majority of your fluid intake, but adding tea to your day is a perfectly sensible choice for an additional beverage.

Interview With A Five-Year-Old

"Jude, do you want to help me with my blog post today?"

"Okay, what do I do?"

"I'll ask you questions, and you answer them, 'kay?"

"Okay."

Mommy: What is your favourite colour?

Jude: Green!

Mommy: Why?

Jude: Because I like that colour best!

Mommy: If you could be any animal, what would you be?

Jude: A cheetah, because I like to be fast like them!

Mommy: Do you like any other animals?

Jude: Hmm... Deers, foxes, and wolfs...that's all the animals that I like. And a honey bear, and a grizzly bear, too. That's all the animals that I like.

Mommy: What about lions?

Jude: (nodding head) Yeah, and tigers, too. That's all the animals I like, too. I forgot those ones.

Mommy: How do you show love for your brothers?

Jude: Be nice.

Mommy: What do you mean by "being nice?"

Jude: Don't push, don't punch, don't hit, give them a hug and kiss...

Mommy: If you could be anyone in a movie or book, who would you be?

Jude: Like a cowboy, I think. I think like a pirate. I think like a crown...

Mommy: A crown? Like a king or a prince you mean? (Blank look from Jude.) You want to be the actual crown? (Jude nods his head.) Okay.* What is your favourite food?

Jude: Pancakes and muffins and doughnuts.

Mommy: O-kay... (What is this kid, a carb-aholic? I think. Another part of my brain says, Um,... duh! Yeah!)

(Jude laughing.)

Jude: ...and pie. (Laughs some more.) I was just tricking ya. Just pancakes. And doughnuts.

Mommy: Okay. (Shakes head, laughing.)

Jude: Mom, there's a computer on my head! (His fingers are tickling his hair. Mommy laughs.)

Mommy: Okay, I think we're just about done. What do you want to go do now?

Jude: Hmm...Go pick a movie.

Mommy: What movie?

Jude: Hmmm...I would pick like...

(Noah, finally finished working with his aide for the day, walks in with Madame Blueberry clutched in his fist.)

Noah: Zis one!

I guess that settles it. Talk about timing!

*Upon proof-reading, I realize that he was trying to say "clown." He never remembers how to say that one properly.

How Do I Get Through One Night Without You?

I remember the night I first told you I loved you. It was hot, and so muggy we could almost taste the river that was rolling by beneath the bridge we were perched on, despite the fact that this area was supposedly in the depths of "winter".

The bridge had washed out just before we had arrived in late September. We went for a walk to check it out on our second or third day there, and this is when I noticed a marvelous thing about the country I had so recently entered: people here had time. They had time to come, and stand, and see the proof of water's power rolling by through the remains of what had once been a sturdy stone bridge. Also, no one was in a rush to repair it. I think it was completed just before I returned home, five months later.

We were in a bubble, I know. Working in a school--already a small, enclosed environment--was made more cocoon-like by the fact that you and I were the only white people in an area where light skin was rare--and envied. With no one else to confide in, you were the one I turned to as counselor and friend as I struggled with the entanglements of loving a man who was not right for me--like a butterfly struggles to free herself from the beautiful gossamer strands of a spider's web.

But were it not for that cocoon that forced us to befriend each other, would I have ever seen you as you are? Would you have ever taken so much time to get to know me? Would we have had a relationship half so honest? Somehow, I think not.

I admired you, this you know--your servant's heart; your willingness to follow God's call to the ends of the earth; your willingness to lead, even though you did not ask to. You were the man I thought was too good for me. And even though I thought you would never be interested in someone like me, I slowly realized that if the type of man I wanted was someone like you, why would I marry someone without the qualities I admired so much?

My situation was messy. Although I went home with about 50 pounds less luggage than I brought over there, the baggage I carried within me had only gotten heavier.

Somehow, you had managed to maintain a friendship with me, even after my awkward confession of love to you two months before. I respected you for it all the more. Somehow, our friendship continued on for another year and a half with me loving you with a passion that would not waver, and you knowing it but maintaining a friendly distance.

You, more than anyone, knew what issues my heart had to work through. And then, when I had finally begun to heal, you were surprised by issues of your own.

When you finally came to my father and asked for permission to court me, I knew that a heart that had taken so long to love would not be easily swayed. Over the years that have passed since then, you have repeatedly shown me how you have never regretted the decision you made.

A lot of water has passed under the bridge since then. I can see it flowing in the current of our lives, bringing with it surprises good and bad. When our lives are so busy that it feels like our bridge will wash out, I love that we occasionally take the time to step back and watch it.

And I love that instead of feeling our way along on opposite sides of a broken heart with words that are desperately inadequate, we now sit in companionable silence--me leaning against your chest, enjoying the mingled scents of trees and water and you--watching it together.

The Facts Were These...

I despise television.

Or, more accurately, television programming. Obviously, I am okay with watching movies on a television. The reasons are:

1. I get to choose the movie ahead of time, and will (hopefully) have done at least a bit of research into whether or not it is content I want my brain to ingest.
2. The time the movie starts is up to me. The time it ends is also up to me. If I want to stop it in the middle and talk on the phone to a friend, or take 30 pee breaks because I'm eight-and-a-half-months pregnant, I can. And, I don't have to rush the friend to get off the phone, or miss any important plot points in the movie. There is none of this "refusing-social-engagements-to-watch-my-show" thing. (I have actually been told: "No I can't come that night. Survivor is on." Say wha'?! Nice to know where I stand in the priority list.)
   
3. A movie is finite. You know going in that your total emotional commitment will be over in 1 1/2 to 3 hours. At most, there may be a sequel or a trilogy that you may want to follow up with. Then, that's it! You can move on. With a television series, if you get involved with the characters (and this is just something women do), you suddenly feel obligated to watch it again the next week, and the week after that. Most of the characters are petty, selfish and immoral in many popular shows nowadays. And the week-long pause in the storyline is something akin to torture, as well.
4. This is more like a sub-point to number 3: When I'm watching a movie, that is only one evening, and usually more like "night", a week, at most, that I am sitting not accomplishing anything. Well, I knit. (This is actually when and why I knit--I just can't NOT do anything. Is that what you call a "Type A Personality?") With a T.V. show, you finish watching your hour-long show, and before the credits are even over, they start teasing you with shows that will be on before, after, and on every other night of the week surrounding "your show." Through laziness or piqued curiosity, you suddenly find yourself sitting in front of the boob tube for hours every week, every night even, without really knowing why, or really realizing that your most productive hours--and years--will have slipped away before you muster up the last vestiges of your will-power and turn it off!
5. A movie does not have commercials. Yes, I realize that companies pay big bucks to advertise their stuff in movies. But a billboard in the background of a scene broadcasting Coca-Cola is a lot less intrusive and deceitful than a handsome, thirty-something woman telling you that if you ask your doctor for _________ pharmaceutical drug for whatever "condition" the company has invented to make money of off you that you will have a life as fulfilling and happy as hers is. Commercials are probably the single biggest reason I hate television.
   

It drives me crazy when I go to someone's house and the television is on. No one is watching it, it is just muttering in the background, trying to arrest your attention from whatever conversation you might be trying to hold, and subliminally programming your brain to try myriads of products you don't need.

All that being said...

I have, for the first time in my adult life, found a show that I actually want to watch every single week. I think I was folding laundry in the family room when the premier for Pushing Daisies was airing and Jason had the T.V. on. (My husband, unfortunately, does not subscribe to the same philosophy as I do regarding television.) I was caught off-guard with how refreshingly sweet and innocent the whole thing felt. I fell in love with the super-saturated colours that made it feel like a page out of Edward Scissorhands, without the Tim Burton-esque strangeness. It was whimsical, with enough of an "edge" to keep it from being sickly sweet. I also love that it is narrated by a voice whose British accident, pitch and demeanor make it feel like you've just been read to by your grandfather or sweet elderly neighbour for an hour when the show is over.*

Ned, the hero of the story, has a special gift--or curse, as the case may be--that he discovered in a most unfortunate way when he was ten or eleven years old. He can bring dead things back to life at a single touch. He found this out when his mother died after hitting her head on the floor and he revived her by touching her. Unfortunately, he soon found out the "dark side" of this gift: if he touches the revived person/creature again they die permanently. This was discovered when his mother went to kiss him goodnight. Also, if he leaves the person alive for longer than a minute, someone else in random proximity dies instead. This he found out after reviving his mother, and his neighbour died--the father of his childhood sweetheart. Thus, ever since his dog died and Ned revived him, he has pet the dog with a wooden hand on a pole. The poor dog is a little attention-deprived.

As an adult, Ned runs a pie shop, but also makes extra cash by working with Emerson, a local detective who uses Ned's ability to talk to murdered corpses about their cause of death and collect the rewards attached to information about the same. In the pilot, Ned knowingly revives his childhood sweetheart, Chuck, and leaves her alive because, well, he loves her. (And also, he feels responsible for her father's death, after which she was raised by a couple of sweet but creepy maiden aunts.)

The show centers around Ned's and Chuck's relationship (which, by it's very non-physical nature, is extremely "clean!"), but each episode has a bizarre murder to solve, as well as some very sweet perspective about love of one type or another. Plots are complicated by the fact that Ned's employee at the Pie Hole, Olive, is in love with him, Emerson can't stand Chuck, and Ned still has not revealed the whole truth to Chuck about his reasons for keeping her alive. All of this combines with some fantastic writing, costumes, directing, and cinematography to make a show that is laugh-out-loud funny, sweet, and uplifting.

The worst part is if I don't manage to turn off the switch before the dreadfully depressing teaser for the show after it comes on. (And also that by the third commercial break, my right eye starts to twitch uncontrollably. At that point Jason gets the hint and starts muting the blasted things.)

Oh, and also? You can still invite me out on Tuesday nights. I mean, c'mon. It's just a T.V. show!

(Which I'm sure will be out on DVD in about a year. Then I can call it a "movie" and watch it anytime I want!)

*Neither of my grandfathers had/have British accents, but it still feels like that.

Bonus for the day

Okay, this isn't really a post. I just wanted to tell you that Staci has posted a really great short article about how the chickenpox vaccine puts you at risk for shingles, among other things. Check it out.

Winter Is Here

And it's left it's stuff laying around everywhere.

There's nothing ruder than a messy house guest.

Speaking of Finishing...

Jason has decided that this is the weekend to finally finish the tiling in our bathroom. It has been in a near-completed state since, um, well, since July. The end of July. Or the beginning of August. Since then, it has been in renovation stasis--that place that renos go to sleep until the insanity of life goes away for a weekend.

Due to the over-abundance of bathrooms in our house, finishing it hasn't exactly been high priority, although it may have been more convenient to use, since it is our main bathroom. However, I haven't been complaining that all I've had to clean is ONE bathtub (in our master bath) instead of two, and THREE toilets instead of five. (The basement bathroom is also in stasis--but a much sleepier one. It's the one with tree root issues and black mold, remember? Scarier and pricier to fix, therefore lower on the priority list.)

Anyway, Jason did a row of tile on Saturday night, forgetting about the other one that needed to be done, which I completed on Sunday afternoon. This evening, Jason has been doing the grouting...


...which he just finished. (Mostly. I think he may have to wash a little more off the tiles in a few minutes.)

Do you like my fish? (The grout is still wet.)


The fish was inspired by creative necessity--one of the black tiles for the floor was broken, leaving us not enough to cover the entire floor--so I decided to make a broken tile mosaic!

We should be using the bathroom again before next weekend, if all goes well!

Cute Kid Moment:

The kids are getting ready for bed, and I just overheard Jude singing "Jacob and Sons" from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah...

Scrapbook Sunday #2

This is another all-digital layout I just finished. I love the immediate gratification of scrapbooking photos digitally! :-)

Knitting Saturday

Today was craft Saturday at the church. Normally, this is the day I get a ton (or, since my country measures in metric, "tonne") of scrapbooking done--or at least a page or two! However, today I decided to finish seaming the sweater that I've been making for my sister-in-law since spring. And guess what, Ang?


IT'S DONE!!!


This is a design by Vladimir Teriokhin from Vogue Knitting's Winter 2005/06 edition. I changed it from a mock turtleneck to a V-neck hoody (with fear and trembling) at Angela's request, and substituted Lion Brand's Wool-Ease Thick and Quick yarn for the more expensive (and less accessible) Plymouth yarn it was originally designed for. Despite my timidity at messing around with knitting patterns, I am quite pleased with the result.

PLUS! Yesterday I finished these yummy slipper-socks (of my own design) for a friend of mine who hadst a birthday on the very same day. (So, um, they're going to be a little late. But you can look for them in the mail soony-soon soon!)




These gray pretties are mine very own. They are a "prototype," so to speak, of my still-developing slipper-sock pattern. I saw something similar on the internet, and loved them, but could not quite figure out how to make them. I have never knit a sock, so I had no practice turning a heel. So I sat, and I thought, and I thought, and I drew, and eventually I wrapped my brain around a 3-D visual model of how these things must be put together. Except I couldn't figure out how to get rid of the holes at the end of my "short rows" (as I discovered this method of shaping is called), so eventually had to cheat a little by looking at a sock pattern with short row shaping to discover the trick of wrapping the yarn around the stitch at the end of each row, both on the decrease and the increase. Now, no more holes! Yippee! Someday, when I am finished making slippers for other people, I may actually knit myself an unholy pair. (Or is that un-holy? Or non-holy? Um... You know what I mean.)

And, for the last photo of the night:


These are stars that Noah made at Awana when they were talking about Day 3 of creation. (When God made the sun, moon, and stars.) They looked so pretty on our fig tree, upon which we keep lights year-round, but have really started using full-force since Daylight Savings Time ended last Sunday--and the sun started setting at 5:00 p.m.! (No kidding, I was coming home at 4:47 p.m. tonight and the sky was a glorious painter's palette of oranges and pinks behind the clearing snow clouds.)

They just looked pretty, so I took a picture of them.

How was your Saturday, friends?

Kids Are Such Great Blog Fodder

After finishing his own bowl of Red River this morning, Noah finished off Jude's second helping, then ate about half of Jason's. Growing at all?

For his birthday, Jason and I gave Jude a "chef" costume and a little child-oriented cookbook from Sesame Street. Today, Jude found a hot chocolate recipe in there, so Jason helped him make it.

A good chef always makes sure the ingredients are fresh.

Yep, that honey is good! We can use it!

Saving The World With Coffee Cups

A while back, I obtained permission from Holly Boxrud at Rocky Mountain Soap Co. to re-print this article from their monthly e-newsletter. I thought it was a great idea, and wanted to share it with you.

At RMSC, we feel it’s important to do our part to be “green.” We are always looking for the most environmentally sustainable option…and we want to be a part of the solution, and not another part of the problem. In an effort to demystify the term sustainability, we decided to dedicate a small section of our monthly e-newsletter to all things Green. As author Maya Angelou says, "When you know better, you do better..." Each month we will do our best to pass on tips we have learned and hopefully step by step we will all begin to make positive changes.

This month’s topic is near and dear to my heart as it involves my favourite thing: COFFEE. Americans consume 400 million cups of coffee per day, or equivalent to 146,000,000,000 (146 Billion) cups of coffee per year; making the United States the LEADING CONSUMER of coffee in the world. Canada falls only slightly short of those numbers, coming in second place with Japan in third. A recent waste audit conducted at the University of Western Ontario revealed Tim Horton’s and Starbucks cups account for a mind-blowing seven per cent of building waste by weight on campus. (Some people estimate the national average to be as high as 30%) As a way to correct the problem, EnviroWestern has introduced the Travel Mug Campaign to encourage regular coffee drinkers to think about the impact their behavior has on the environment. In Toronto, city councilor Glenn De Baeremaeker is pursuing the idea of imposing a 25- or 30-cent tax on each disposable coffee cup in order to help reduce Toronto garbage sent to landfill sites, in an effort to force companies like these to find solutions. Locally, the communitea café has begun collecting a 50C donation to the Canmore Green Bike program for taking a paper cup. Owner, Marnie Dansereau, conceived of her policy with the intent to get people to be conscious and think about their environmental impact. Not too mention that good coffee like theirs is meant to be experienced and savored in a beautiful porcelain mug, while lounging in a comfy beanbag chair…

So what can we all do? Commit to buying a couple of good quality travel mugs, and keeping them where you use them most. The most important thing though, is to use them. My husband and I made a pledge to not buy coffee in a disposable mug. We take our travel mugs wherever we go. And should we be craving a coffee and not have our mugs? We made a pledge; so we skip the coffee or take a break, and enjoy our coffee in the cafe. Oh yes, it’s been “inconvenient” at times, but the cult of convenience is contributing to the damage we’re doing to our planet. One look into a municipal waste trash bin on a street corner downtown, full to the brim with used coffee cups, will convince you; the best way to solve this problem is to reduce your consumption. And the benefits are twofold; not only will you eliminate waste, but your daily cup(s) of organic, fair trade java will taste even better when they stay hot in your brand new travel mug. It’s good to be green!

Introspection and Indigestion

Sometimes I feel like I spend my entire day cleaning up other people's messes.

And my kids', too.

However, as my stomach will currently attest to, eating an extra Timbit that someone brought by in appreciation of you cleaning up their mess does not actually make you feel any better.

Too much sugar does an upset tummy make. And with my standard amount of sugar intake, "too much" is not that much at all, these days.

Remember at the beginning of October, when I didn't blog for 8 days, and posted stuff that barely passed as writing for a few days after that? That's 'cause I got hit with a n.a.s.t.y. stomach flu.

The last thing I consumed before my body ejected everything it possibly could, and a few things it shouldn't have, for the next eight hours?

A Tim Horton's Iced Cappuccino.

In some ways, one might argue that that was the best thing that could have happened to me. Because I haven't been able to stomach the thought of one since.

------------------

As I was typing this post, the random play on my music player came up with the song "Cry In My Heart" by Starfield, and the lyrics are so where I am right now, I just want to post them here:

Cry In My Heart

There's a cry in my heart
For Your glory to fall
For Your presence to fill up my senses
There's a yearning again
A thirst for discipline
A hunger for things that are deeper

Could You take me beyond?
Could You carry me through?
If I open my heart?
Could I go there with You?
(For I've been here before
But I know there's still more
Oh, Lord, I need to know You)

For what do I have
If I don't have You, Jesus?
What in this life
Could mean any more?
You are my rock
You are my glory
You are the lifter of my head
Lifter of this head

P.S. In case you haven't been over to my brother's blog recently, check out this post for a friggin' hilarious account of his adventures in France. Did I mention that my brother is a genius writer?

A Twist on Egg-Nog

Did you know that whole, raw eggs are extremely healthy for you?

("Gasp! Horror of horrors! Eat raw eggs? Is she trying to kill us all from salmonella poisoning?!")

Nope. I eat 'em all the time. Have since I was a kid, actually. Really, the way eggs are handled these days--chilled right away, then kept chilled until the time of consumption--the chances of contracting salmonella from them is minimal-to-none. They are a closed environment. (Eggs produced in over-crowded barns that rely heavily on antibiotics to keep the hens healthy may be subject to salmonella contamination. Eating pasture fed eggs that have been properly refrigerated should pose no threat. These eggs are becoming widely available in most grocery stores.)

What about cholesterol?
First of all, let's address why you should eat the whole egg. Eggs are a perfect whole food. We have been warned to limit our consumption of them, due to the high amounts of cholesterol contained in the yolk. However, these dire warnings need only be feared until you realize that our bodies need cholesterol--especially our hearts. The fat around our heart is nearly all saturated. If we do not consume enough cholesterol, our body will produce it.

Consider this article from the Weston A. Price Foundation site; here is an excerpt:

The Benefits of High Cholesterol: People with high cholesterol live the longest. This statement seems so incredible that it takes a long time to clear one´s brainwashed mind to fully understand its importance. Yet the fact that people with high cholesterol live the longest emerges clearly from many scientific papers. Consider the finding of Dr. Harlan Krumholz of the Department of Cardiovascular Medicine at Yale University, who reported in 1994 that old people with low cholesterol died twice as often from a heart attack as did old people with a high cholesterol.¹ Supporters of the cholesterol campaign consistently ignore his observation, or consider it as a rare exception, produced by chance among a huge number of studies finding the opposite.

But it is not an exception; there are now a large number of findings that contradict the lipid hypothesis. To be more specific, most studies of old people have shown that high cholesterol is not a risk factor for coronary heart disease. This was the result of my search in the Medline database for studies addressing that question.² Eleven studies of old people came up with that result, and a further seven studies found that high cholesterol did not predict all-cause mortality either.

Now consider that more than 90% of all cardiovascular disease is seen in people above age 60 also and that almost all studies have found that high cholesterol is not a risk factor for women.² This means that high cholesterol is only a risk factor for less than 5% of those who die from a heart attack.

But there is more comfort for those who have high cholesterol; six of the studies found that total mortality was inversely associated with either total or LDL-cholesterol, or both. This means that it is actually much better to have high than to have low cholesterol if you want to live to be very old.

Please read the full article for some eye-opening information about why you need cholesterol in your diet.

Why eggs?
Now that we know that eating eggs is not going to give you a heart attack, what will it do for you?

Eggs are rich in:

• high-quality protein (including sulphur-containing proteins, necessary for the integrity of cell membranes)
  
• fat-soluble vitamins, especially vitamins A and D. (Our body manufactures vitamin D from sunlight, but in the winter in northern climates especially, it is difficult to get enough sunlight to maintain proper levels of this vitamin)
• "just about every nutrient we have ever discovered." Fallon, Nourishing Traditions, New Trends Publishing, pg. 436
• "An excellent source of special long-chain fatty acids EPA and DHA, which ply a vital role in the development of the nervous system in the infant and the maintenance of mental acuity in the adult--no wonder Asians value eggs as brain food." Fallon, ibid.
• Egg yolk is the most concentrated source known of choline, a B vitamin found in lecithin that is necessary for keeping the cholesterol moving in the bloodstream.

Besides all this, eggs are an inexpensive meat replacement in a meal, and quick to prepare, making them perfect for families with time or budget constraints. My dad says that he likes breakfast so much that he eats it three times a day, and if eggs are equated as breakfast food, I agree with him. (For creative approaches to preparing eggs, I recommend Company's Coming's The Egg Book.)

Look for eggs from free-range, pasture-fed chickens that have been allowed to eat bugs and worms, or eggs that have been produced without soy, and with flax or fish meal in the feed. These types of feed produce eggs where the omega-3 and omega-6 fatty acids exist in nearly a one-to-one ratio, which is the ideal our bodies want to consume. Grain-fed chickens can have an omega-6 content that is as much as 19 times greater than omega-3s. Other long-grain fatty acids vital to brain development are almost wholly absent in most commercial eggs. (Edit: I just read an article on Dr. Mercola's site that warns against buying Omega-3 eggs, as the form of the fatty acid the chickens consume is ALA, which is difficult for our body to process large quantities of, and does not have the same health benefits as DHA and EPA. See here for the article.)

You know you've got good eggs if the yolk is dark yellow in colour--the darker the yolk, the higher the nutrient content is.

NEVER eat powdered eggs--these contain harmful oxidized cholesterol. (All whole foods in powdered form, such as milk, potatoes, whey, etc. are toxic to the human body in some way.)

Why raw?
According to Dr. Mercola, one of the main causes of egg allergies is that they are cooked. When you consume them raw, the cases of allergy incidences all but disappear.

Some nutritionists are concerned that you should not eat raw egg whites, as it contains a glycoprotein called avidin that binds biotin, a B vitamin, preventing absorption. However, this is counteracted by the fact that there is a ton of biotin in the yolk, proving how remarkable eggs are as a whole food. The excess biotin in the yolk prevents the likelihood of a biotin deficiency from consuming the white--unless, of course, you buy into the "low-cholesterol" dogma of the nutritional bourgeoisie and consume only the egg whites. In this case, you will likely need to take a biotin supplement to prevent the deficiency!

For more about why you should eat your eggs raw, please see Dr. Mercola's article Raw Eggs For Your Health.

'Tis the season
It's that time of year--when the grocery-store shelves become lined with that delicious substance known as "egg-nog"--or at least what passes for it now that most of us are petrified of eating our eggs raw, or eating the whole egg--or eating whole milk, for that matter. (But that will have to be the subject of another blog post.)

I love egg-nog with as much ardency as the next red-necked Canadian. (The next red-necked Canadian being, of course, my European tourist of a brother, Logan. He would stock it in his fridge year-round in Seattle, "the Land of Nog", apparently--at least, when it is not being referred to as "The Kingdom of Over-priced Coffee".) However, I don't want to feel like I'm jeopardizing my health by drinking it from the store, with the cocktail of other ingredients each box contains. So, here are a couple of versions of "healthy" egg-nogs for you to try, in portion sizes for you to enjoy whenever you wish. Enjoy!

Traditional Egg Nog
Serves 1

In a blender, add 2 eggs, 1 tbsp. maple syrup or 2 tsp. raw honey, 1 cup whole milk, 1 tsp. pure vanilla extract, and a sprinkle of nutmeg. Blend on high until frothy, pour into a tall glass mug and enjoy!

Banana-Nog
Serves 1

This thicker version helps you get some of your daily fruit servings, and requires no additional sweeteners. We buy large amounts of bananas and peel and freeze them at the peak of ripeness for recipes such as this and shakes.

In a blender, place 1-2 eggs, one banana (fresh or frozen), 1 tsp. vanilla, a sprinkle of nutmeg, and 1 cup whole milk. Blend on high until frothy and serve.

Healthful add-ins: These can be added to either recipe for extra healthy benefits: 1 tbsp. expeller-expressed flax oil, 1/4 tsp. of liquid mineral supplement

Chocolat Banana-Nog
Use same recipe as Banana-Nog, but replace vanilla and nutmeg with 1 heaping tbsp. cocoa, and add 1-2 tsp. raw honey.

What's With THAT?!

"Here, let me take your picture. You can be my blog post for the day," I said to my husband, as I was cleaning up the tools I had just used on his freshly-shorn hair.

"Okay," he said gamely, if not exactly eagerly. I did a quick style job with some molding putty, then he donned his shirts while I went for the camera.

Jason is probably the least-willing photo subject in our house, actually. Which is probably why there are less photos of him, all by himself, than of any other person.

While I had him on the stool, I wasn't going to let the opportunity of trying to correct that balance slip by. He surprised me on the first photo by actually giving me a small grin. Then I took the second one--and took him by surprise.

"What's with that?!" his look said. He didn't leave, but rebelled by sticking his tongue out when I snapped off the third one. I had been going for "thoughtful," and for obvious reasons, this completely ruined the effect.

"What's with THAT?!" I exclaimed back, and snapped a fourth while he was trying to avoid it.

"That," apparently, is about as much patience as my hubby has for photo-taking in one night.

Scrapbook Sunday

This is a new feature I am implementing on my blog--who knows, I might even carry it on after NaBloPoMo is over!

Here's a layout from photos I took this afternoon:

Winters African Safari 2007

...That's what we called it.

Jude had his fifth birthday party today, and to escape the whole "we are preparing stuff for 30 people because we are inviting our friends and all their siblings and parents too" thing, I suggested a sleepover with three friends. Also, a safari theme was decided on, because Jude LOVES African animals. ("The cheetah is my favourite!")

The three got stretched to four, then to five. Not such a big deal, actually--five five-year-olds. Not so scary. If only they would go to sleep!

For their favour bags, I made them all cloth "book bags" out of a khaki material to keep all their stuff in for the night. Not long after arriving, the kids made "binoculars" out of toilet paper rolls, masking tape and string. ("You need binoculars to search for the animals!") Then they made little wooden-beaded "key chain" markers, to help identify their bag from everyone else's.

Ahead of time, I had prepared little "Wildlife Guide" books for all the kids that had one page for their name, age, favourite African animal and something they learned today. The rest of the pages were "spec sheets" of the different animals we were going to see on our travels. We were going on a "photo safari"--I had enough photos of the animals for each child to pop into their albums after our safari was over, which I left with the animals when I hid them.

The animals were all little stuffed toys that were on sale at the drug store this week. The "Serengeti" was in our dry, brown, chilly, but (thankfully!) snow-less backyard; there we found the Black Rhino, the African Elephant, the lion, and some giraffes. Uganda was back in our wildly-house-planted living room, where we found the mountain gorilla and the leopard. With each animal's discovery we went over a few of the interesting facts found in their guides. The kids all had lots of fun talking about the animals. (I mean really, what kid doesn't think African animals are just really cool?)

The only other planned activities were a jungle mural they got to draw on a long stretch of kraft paper on the wall, and watching "The Wild" after supper. The kids had a blast playing with all the animals once the safari was over, and are still having a blast playing in the living room. Unfortunately. They have been "in bed" for two hours now. (Yeah, right.)

Side vignette:

Thanks to The Sneaky Chef, (see this post), I was able to make a birthday cake I didn't feel guilty about, for once. Yes, it was chocolate--but it was also made with whole-grain spelt and wheat flours, with the hidden ingredients of blueberries and spinach. Yes, I said spinach.

Unfortunately, Jude happened to notice the spinach as it was just about to get thrown in the blender to be puréed.

"Are you putting spinach in my cake?!" he asked.

I refuse to lie to my kids about their food being healthy for them. If they don't ask, I may not say anything, but if they ask straight out, I'll always tell them the truth. (It is, after all, what I expect from them.) Plus, I think it's good for them to realize that a food that's good for them could also be something they like to eat!

"Yes."

"MOM! I don't want spinach in my cake!!"

"You won't even taste it, I promise. It's going to be a chocolate cake."

"Chocolate?" with a glimmer of interest. "But I don't want spinach in it!"

"When you eat a cake, do you taste the eggs?"

"No," with an accompanying shake of the head.

"Do you taste the flour?"

Another head shake.

"Do you taste the butter?"

A look that said, That's silly, Mom!"

"You won't taste the spinach either, I promise."

"I won't?" Still skeptical.

"I promise."

And he didn't. Neither did the other seven kids and four adults who ate it.

It was delicious.

Obligatory, cheesy "I'm-posing-for-the-camera" Birthday Boy grin.

Jason decorating the cake with safari animal crackers.

Jude and his guests show their favourite side to the camera. :-)

Well, the plates are cleaned up and the animals safely returned to their homes.

Oh--except the monkeys that are still awake in the living room!

Where did I hide those tranquilizer darts again?...