The Anyone Can Do This Series- Bacon makes everything better

BACON

In my world, bacon makes everything better. Everything but cookies, I've tried that once. One of my friends actually bought me a bacon candle, bacon frosting and even bacon soap for Christmas. All the major life necessities here in bacon form. Light? Check? Frosting for cupcakes? Check. Cleanliness? Check. Could my Christmas get any better? Nope.

Being that I am a bacon conesuer, I will share some of my knowledge with you. 

Food historians can tell you that the consumption of pork is really quite ancient in its cured and smoked form. The term bacon, comes from the British Isles where cured pork was a main staple in their past centuries diet. Bacon was the cheapest and most popular pork product and a mainstay for the European peasant diet. In 1750 William Ellis wrote "Where there is bread and bacon enough, there is not want". This man sounds so sexy. Even the ancient Romans were in on all of the meat preserving fun knowing all too well the importance of this cut. 

How could something that has been around for ages be bad? It just can't be.

If you have ever shopped for bacon you will probably agree there are way too many options. So many companies are getting in on the bacon action which can make it confusing. There is now Turkey bacon (bleh), pre-cooked bacon (really?) and no nitrates and all that stuff. I'm not sure about other parts of the country, but bacon here in Washington is ridiculously priced. The packaged stuff is at least 5.00 dollars for not even a pound. This is pure evil. 

I've discovered something that maybe most of us over look. The meat counter. The meat counter at your local supermarket has cut bacon for approximately 3.80 a pound. These cuts are usually very thick and you can pick between peppered rinds and or plain. In my opinion I think this bacon is far superior to its packaged friends and is just what real bacon should taste like. It's a mans bacon for sure. I actually got the bacon pictured above, from Costco. It is amazing and again was only about 3.80 a pound. I honestly think a little tear rolled down my cheek when I saw it and I thought, Costco...you get me...this is glorious bacon. You did it.

Everything in moderation right? You obviously shouldn't eat bacon everyday (that would be heaven for me) but bacon is magical. Why shy away from it.

Plus, if you are into southern cooking, especially creole or even a lot of mexican food, rendered bacon fat is a used a lot. Rendered bacon fat is what is left after you cook your lovely bacon. So many people throw it out, but you would be surprised at all the yummy food that calls for it. Some of the best re-fried beans I have ever made had bacon fat in it...shocker!

Let bacon in...don't discriminate :)

I will leave you with a quote by a comedian-


"Think about it: nondairy creamer, two words that should not be used to describe the same product. Kind of like turkey bacon -- what the hell is going on on that farm?"- Retta

Turkey bacon is for little girls...just saying. Now go out and buy some real bacon!

xoxoxo

Heidi

Guilty Pleasures

I thought it only appropriate with it being February and all, to to write a little post on guilty pleasures.....

We all have little secrets of things we like. I try to hide some of mine but some of you may already know them. I thought for fun I would share a few..not all, but some.

1. Crack in the form of candies:

via slashfood.com

The crappy thing about my adoration and sick addiction to these lovely candies shown above, is that they are freaking Easter candies. I literally fought over a box of them (the last box mind you) at Rite Aid with some lady last year. We were both standing in the candy isle, trying to be coy and not let on what we were both up to. I quickly grabbed the box and she went for it too only spilling most of the contents on the floor. We were both frantically trying to pick them up for our own selves saying not a word. I ran to the check out counter hoping she had more shopping to do due to the fact it was an awkward encounter. She didn't, she was there for the same reason I was and stood right behind me waiting in line. It was borderline horrible. But it was so, so worth it. And guess what? It's that time again friends...I just bought about 10 packages the other day and only one remains. My husband keeps finding empty wrappers around the house and shakes his head in disappointment each time he happens to pick one up. I personally think it's kind of funny.

2. Bad Boys:

via hollywooddame.com

Now you finding out about my love of bad boys is probably not that shocking...most women like bad boys, but I like comic book serial psychos...and this one in particular. (And you thought I was joking Marie!) We all knew I was a little off  before but this just takes it to a new realm. I bought this movie for my husband but it was secretly so I could watch him. So creepy right? There is something about this joker that makes my heart go pitter pat...it's wrong. Maybe that makes it all the more fun. Moving on.

3. Blunt Cards and other weird entertaining websites with crass humor:

I could spend a really, really long time looking at all of the blunt cards. Sometimes I sit on my computer..I don't actually sit on it, I'm looking at it, and cry laughing. Warning...most of the cards are inappropriate just in case you go on their site, this was pretty PG compared to the ones I wanted to put up.

This is from  http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com . I spent way too  a limited amount of time looking for just the right photo to post here. There was so many..it was hard to choose. This is an actual family portrait. It's not just the photos that are freaking hilarious, it's the culmination of the photo's title and then the caption below the picture. This one is titled:

Baby's Day Out

Freud would have found a metephore here.

Who ever started this site needs 100 high fives in a row. That's all I have to say.

4. Food with zero nutritional value:

Now some of you may think that a food item like this would never even make its way in front of me because I'm a food snob. It's not that I'm a food snob, but there are things like cheese wiz that I think are atrocities. However, I am a closet lover of these:



These are the hot dogs with the fake cheese in the middle. I like to eat them when no one is around on a white hot dog bun and with ketchup. You don't want to over power the flavors of the fake cheese hot dog with a bunch of unnecessary condiments and then healthy items like a whole wheat bun, oh no. I don't even really like hot dogs or ketchup. These however are evil and delicious and bad for you. Much like the joker in the Dark Night. I'm starting to see a pattern here. Don't tell my husband.

5. The Mob:

via allaboutmadonna.com

My love of the Mob has come about long before the show, Mob Wives. The first time I ever saw Dick Tracy I think I was about 11. I watched that movie countless times with my friend Vanessa. I was in love with the idea of being Breathless Mahoney. I even told my parents that I wanted to marry a mobster when I grew up. Such a proud moment for parents right? I always aim to please. My Dad loves to tell this story to people that I barely know. The last time he told it we were having dinner with a group of people and my husband heard this information for the first time. He was pleased to say the least. Mobsters are just plain sexy. Again,...I'm seeing a horrible pattern here....

6. Shoes:

via pinterest

Hi there, my name is Heidi and I am a shoe whore. I could shop for shoes, look at shoes, try on shoes for hours upon hours. I have way too many shoes for one person. I've spent way too much money on all of my shoes. I need alone time with my shoes after I buy a pair. The higher the heels the better. They just make me happy. I also remember people by their shoes and it's the first thing I notice. (I'm not judging...just noticing).

So, these are the few guilty pleasures I am willing to share with you. What are some of yours? (can you imagine the ones I'm not willing to share?....maybe next year :)

XOXOX

Heidi

p.s. Happy Valentines Day

Chapter seven: Just a 20 piece and a sandwich..thanks

via www.witz.org

Have you ever had a horrible dream and entirely forgotten about it, only until you are doing something totally mundane, like driving or cleaning (these are mundane in my world) and then all of a sudden you have flash backs of it? The wave of terror comes over you and realize you remember exactly all of the things that had happened while you were sleeping. That is what this news was like for me.

I felt as if I was walking around in this foggy bubble and then someone would shock me with a tazer and I would be horrified all over again. I was held up in my house knowing that I wasn't fit for anyone to see me or let alone be around me. I told Baby Loving Man "I'm going to spend the next 9 months in my room, just bring me up supplies." I don't know how this man puts up with me, but he does. And he knows all too well that the "supplies" I am taking about are over-sized bags of sour patch kids and cartons of Bryers rocky road ice cream. Necessities.

The fog in my head began to get worse. I felt like I had been hit by a large RV and left for dead on my couch. I was in a coma of sea sickness, terror and oblivion all at the same time. I wasn't even aware that I had a family that needed dinner, clean clothes or attention. My life became throwing up anytime someone waved hi or sat down next to me. Any motion, noise or flashing lights and I was done for. Chucky Cheese would have been my own person hell.

Ravenous is the only word I can think of to describe how hungry I was. The only thing was anytime I would try to eat and make the hunger vanish it wouldn't stay in my body for too long. Don't judge me, but the only thing I could eat was chicken nuggets from the devil himself dressed in a clown suit, and the southern chicken sandwiches he sells. You are probably thinking....okay, well it's probably not that bad...everything in moderation. Well if you consider polishing of a 20 piece box with the southern chicken sandwich and maybe a box of large fries in one sitting moderation, then yes, it wasn't that bad. I have witnesses to these horrible atrocities and lets just say that the lady at the drive through was calling me Mrs. Jansson. It was intimate. I had turned to the dark side. Healthy freak eating? Yah, I won't be answering any of your calls anytime soon. I was in love with a bad boy who wore clown shoes.

If anything I was in survival mode. It was the only thing I could keep down which seems so backwards seeing that it was such hellish food I was stuffing down into my insides. The Universe couldn't let this be easy. She knows I like doing things the hard way.

My days and nights consisted of throwing up. I know, not pretty but it's the pure truth. I was a slave to it. Nothing I did made it go away...nothing. And every time it happened it would drain my powers more and more. I had red dots around my eyes and I looked like a hardcore tweaker. The only place I really made appearances was at church, and somehow I mustered up enough strength to look normal. Or maybe I didn't but no one ever led on any different. My kids couldn't understand why this was all so hard for me. I tried explaining it like a video game. "Boys, you know when you play Jack and the Daxter? Well every time he gets hit what happens to his power bar? Yes,....it goes down until he dies. That's what happens when mommy barfs."  Anyway, it was something along those lines, but they finally got it once it was put into words they could understand. From then on every time I threw up I could here them wisper.....shhhh, her powers are dwindling. You have to screw your kids up sometime...why not start now.

My thug trickery outfit was a flop. The hoody actually made me look even bigger... surprise! My stomach was growing so rapidly that I could barely button my pants. I then fashioned a contraption which consisted of a thick rubber band that came from a head of broccoli and looped it in my the button hole in my pants and then around the button. Like suspenders but for your uterus. I'm sure I'm not the first person to think that up but I thought it was pretty clever. That lasted about a week and then I had to go hunting for maternity jeans. So much for concealing this for three months. Try eleven weeks. High five...

I headed for the mall and made my way into the the maternity store. I'm sure I looked like hell and everyone could see my sad uterus suspender through my shirt which was a dead give away as to why I was there. I didn't really care. I did however have makeup on which was a pretty big milestone at this station of the game. I wasn't in the mood to answer questions or pretend to be peppy, but the clerk working there had a way different idea of how this was going to go.

Clerk: "Well hi there!!! How is your day going?!!" (she was super excited..way to excited in my opinion)
Me: "Fine"
Clerk: "Really just fine? Not great?"
seriously?
Me: "Yep...fine..that's about it"
Clerk: "Well lets change that. What can we get you started with?...your obviously pregnant."
Me "Really? You could tell?" (this is a friggin maternity store right?)
Clerk: "Oh sure..I've been doing this for a long time. How far along are you? 4 months?"
Me "Yah, (she smiles)...try 11 weeks...(she frowns)"

This banter goes on and on and with each statement I really just want to tell her to go fly a kite. She hands me about 20 pairs of jeans to try on and about every 3 seconds she comes to the dressing room to ask how I'm doing and how does that pair feel. I haven't even gotten one leg of my own pants off yet. This was going to be a long process.

Almost three hours and $80.00 later I made it out alive with two pairs of pants and a pair of back leggings. I was pissed due to the fact that this was all I had to show for what just happened. This sucked and I ended up going home and slept for the rest of the day until the next morning. What kind of life was this? Shopping is my thing and I couldn't even do that. Damn my life right now.

Part of me wanted to be so excited for this whole thing, but the fact was that it just wasn't going the way I wanted to. I had a plan and the plan was failing so, so badly. I just like when things go the way I want. Doesn't everyone want that? You know you do.

I was soon put into a position where I had to out my news. Half of the people I knew didn't even know I was pregnant yet...for all they knew I was getting fatter and dressing cholla with all the hoody action. It was in large a group of people...and it just happened. Someone in that group knew and thought I was ready to share, and it wasn't this persons fault, they didn't know I wasn't ready. As I reluctantly spoke the words, there were looks of shock, horror, happiness and boredom across the room. Such an eclectic mixture of emotions, I however felt like I was backed into a corner and I was soon swarmed by people wanting answers.

Now you have to remember that as far as just about everyone was concerned we were done having kids. There were many conversations had about this subject with various people and every time I was a firm "we are done". Somehow  individuals recalling these conversations felt betrayed by this news, almost as if I had lied to them and they needed answers....demanded answers. I felt as if I had just come out of the court house after being put on trial and the popperazzi was swarming wanting all of the gory details. It was rough, but it was out.

What was worse is that here I am shouting from the roof tops that I'm done and then it's not like I'm having one baby...it's two. For some reason this made it even harder for those who felt betrayed..like it was double betrayal and those people were actually mad at me. Well I didn't get the memo that I would need to put out a poll so I could graph people's reactions. If I had known this I would have put Baby Loving Man to work creating one...he loves to make charts and graphs. Good Heavens.

As word got around and it did...quickly, I got a lot of very positive reactions which actually helped me immensely. It made this whole jagged pill a lot easier to swallow and honestly I felt a little alone trying to deal with the whole thing in secrecy. I guess part of me was embarrassed, in my family five kids is a hell of a lot of children but for some it's not. Maybe this wasn't going to be that bad. And for a moment I really did think that. But only for a moment...don't tell anyone.

The You Can Do This Series- Chili Con Carne

If you read this series' mission statement , this would be the fabulous chili I would eat while riding my magical unicorn. It's thick, meaty and oh so, so good. You can eat it as a dinner dish, but it would also be a great chili to top nachos or even better...hot dogs...oh my yes!

ONE POT:
When I make this, I only dirty one pot. One dutch oven! I cook everything in it in stages. I also use two plates. One for the bacon and one for the beef. Then a cutting board and a knife...and a small bowl for the bacon fat, but that's pretty much it. Not bad right?

MAKE IT EASY ON YOURSELF:
One of the things any cook should learn is time management. What I mean by this is while one thing is cooking you are prepping another part of the dish, or have some elements of the dish all ready before you start. For this recipe I suggest getting all of the spices ready in a small cup or ramekin before you begin. Cut the vegetables while your bacon and beef are cooking. Have all of your other items (like the canned ones) out on your counter ready to go. This sounds obvious enough, but you would be surprised how much of your time is wasted running around trying to grab stuff when you are already in the middle of a recipe. It makes them seem a lot more time consuming then they really are. It can't hurt to try it.

OUT OF THE ORDINARY:
The only thing in the recipe out of the ordinary may be the chipotle pepper. They are sold canned, and are usually next to the canned jalapenos in your grocery store's ethnic section. (Ethnic people..please don't be offended that I used the word Ethnic to describe where they are located...that's the same word the grocery store uses so calm down).I always have a can in my pantry. You can freeze the rest of the peppers in a baggie. If you don't have it or can't find it, it's not a big deal. I guess the other not so common thing is cocoa powder, but it adds depth to the dish and I promise it doesn't taste chocolaty. Make sure you use unsweetened. You probably have this in your pantry..if you don't how dare you...kidding.


Chili Con Carne
Serves about 6-8

6 slices of bacon (I use thick bacon from the meat counter at the grocery store)
2 lbs ground beef (you can use 1lb if you want but two makes this dish)
1 large red onion, chopped
1 large green pepper, chopped
4 cloves of garlic, chopped ( I prefer fresh garlic but you can use the bottled kind)
Kosher salt

3 Tbs chili powered
1 Tbs ground cumin
2 tsps paprika
2 tsps dried oregano
2 Tbs tomato paste
1 chipotle pepper (this is optional but adds smokiness to the dish..you can buy canned chipotle peppers next to the canned jalapenos usually in the ethnic section of any store)

2 1/2 cups beef broth (I use Better Than Bullion Beef ) You can use chicken stock but beef is great in this
2 Tbs unsweetened cocoa powder
1 28 oz can crushed tomatoes
2 15 oz cans pinto beans (you can use black beans, anything you want really)

Toppings:
Crumbled bacon
Cilantro
Green onions
Avocados
Cheese

Okay...so in the dutch cook the bacon until crispy. Once you are done take a plate, line it with paper towels and place the bacon on top to soak up some of the fat. Once it is cool you can crumble it and set it aside.

Drain the bacon fat from the dutch over into a bowl and keep about 1 Tbsp in the pot. Add the ground beef, breaking it up until it's browned. Remove the beef to another plate.Depending on how fatty your beef is, you may want to discard the fat. Once you have done that add another 1 Tbsp to the pot.

Now add your onion and bell pepper and cook until soft. DO NOT add the garlic right now. Wait until your vegetables are done cooking or your garlic will burn and the whole thing will be ruined...seriously! Once the vegetables are soft, add the garlic and 1 tsp of salt. Cook and stir about 2-3 mins.

Add the chili powder, cumin, paprika, oregano and tomato paste and chipotle pepper, stirring for about 6 mins. Add about 1/2 Cup of the beef broth, stir to incorporate and then let it cook until it is reduced (meaning that almost all of the liquid has evaporated).

Now add the beef you reserved on the plate along with it's juices; add the cocoa powder, tomatoes, the rest of the beef broth and beans and bring to a simmer on low heat. You do not have to cover the pot. You can cover it half way if it starts to make a mess bubbling while cooking. I cook my chili for about 40 mins.

Serve with the crumbled reserved bacon, cilantro, green onions, avocados, cheese and sour cream.

Your man will thank you..and if you are a man making this..you are soooo welcome.

xoxoxo

Heidi

Chapter six: All you have to do is dribble a football

via AntiqueAthlete.com

Anytime I am ever in a place where it seems not even the gentlest of souls can talk me down from whatever intense state I'm in, I have two go to quotes that I can always count on to be some source of sanity. For the strangest reasons they can immediately get me to smile inside of my brain even if I look like a mad woman on the outside. I can guarantee these two quotes have saved me from a dozen jail sentences. I will share one of them with you now.

When somebody tells you nothing is impossible, ask him to dribble a football. ~Author Unknown

Now I know. It's not some poster with a kitty cat barely holding onto a branch by one paw with the caption "Hang In There". But think about asking your husband or some athletic person or ever better yet someone not at all athletic to dribble a football. You can't help but laugh. You can't actually dribble one and if you think you can you are being ridiculous and you know it. What's even more insane, is that I don't pull this quote out when I'm trying to reach a really hard goal and need a pick me up. It's not for inspiration. It's only when I'm in crazy town. Well I guess it is for inspiration...inspiration not to go even crazier. I'm not sure what this says about me as a stable person but I can guarantee it's probably not thumbs up.

We walked to our car after being dropped kicked with the news of two. I felt like I was being escorted to my vehicle after drinking way too much. I know I got there but I had no idea how I made it, who I was with, what time it was. Our rears planted on our cold leather car seats we just sat..in front of the doctors office in complete silence, fogging up the car.

I turned to Mike and stared at him. Whenever I have horribly vivid nightmares I actually look for physical flaws in my dreams to alert me that it is in fact a dream because there is no way it would occur in real life. This then allows me to wake myself up because I actually have that ability since I'm dreaming. I was staring at him waiting for some flaw, like his ear to be on backwards or he would have pig hoofs for hands.  Something to assure me this was in deed a nasty but very real nightmare and I would be waking from it shortly. Unfortunately his ears were intact and the right side up. His hands were human too as far as I could tell. This wasn't working so I needed to move on to plan B. I broke the silence and spoke up calm and collected " I need you to slap me across the face as hard as you can." Baby Loving Man's head turned slowly over to my direction "You want me to slap you? No...I'm not slapping you." He thought I was ridiculous. He was underestimating me big time. "Look at my face!" I said "You will take your big stupid human hand and slap me because for all I know you're hiding your pig hoofs trying to trick me into thinking this all reality, and I'm so sorry but I am way smarter than you and it's not working!"

I had officially lost my mind. I was in shock and talking in maths that no one on this planet could understand. He was used to my crazy before but not to this degree. All I could do was sit quietly while we drove home, scouring the landscape outside of my window looking for flaws in the matrix.

Thoughts were flooding every inch of my lunatic brain. We didn't even have baby gear. Cribs? No...we got rid of everything when we left California. Car seats? nope. Strollers...no. Ten million dollars to pay for all of these items we no longer owned and now TWO of everything?...definitely negitory. It was too much to even contemplate. Way too heavy right now. I will never sleep. I will never shower..I will smell. I have to wash my hair everyday people...this was never going to work.

And then I gasp realizing...we are going to have to tell people this...this...news. Where the hell was my hoody and baggy jeans at? There was no way I would be able to keep this a secret. Absolutely no way around it. I called a friend and then my sister in law. It's sad when other people are way more excited than you are. All I remember is hearing "Oh my gosh this is so awesome!" as I sobbed hopelessly on the other end. It was only awesome because it wasn't happening to them. But I needed someone to tell me maybe this wasn't so bad, and they were trying, I just couldn't hear it. That's what shock does to you. Another one of my friends actually had to come over to see physical evidence in the form of an ultrasound. Apparently once you play jokes on people they will never take something like this seriously. Once she saw the two spots on the picture, she just looked at me like she was so sad and then secretly so happy it wasn't her. Pity? Is that the word I'm looking for? Yes ma'am, it was pity.

As I tried to swish and wash this new calamity around in my head, my thoughts jumped in every possible direction, landing on the physical aspects of two. Each of my previous children were 10lbs at birth. Yes, you read that right. So how was 20lbs of baby going to fit inside this body? How did this work? So that night I did what every curious new mother of twins would do. I googled "twin stomach images". Genius idea. I looked at it like research. This was all for educational purposes. I would be able to see how big people got and how fast they showed. I was collecting data for my own circumstances.

I will warn you right now. Never, ever, ever go and do something like that. It's like comparing it to a man that doesn't want to ever have children and then forcing him to watch a live full on child birth video searing each ounce of his brain. You just sealed the deal, that man will never even consider having kids after that. That was pretty much what I had just done but to myself, only I couldn't go back....it was going to happen to me. It was now just a matter of time. I bawled looking at these women's bodies stretched beyond measure. How was this even humanly possible? Aliens could do this, not humans. And then the after pregnancy pictures started loading...and the ugly cry made it's return with a vengeance. I will never be the same after looking at those images...never ever the same.

I laid there in my bed. Why did I agree to this stupid idea of having one more that now had turned into two. I looked around my room trying to picture where I was going to fit two bassinets. I would have piles of diapers and blankets everywhere. The fact I was even laying there in silence would never happen again. I would never have a moment to myself ever. I always new the Universe had a nasty sense of humor. All the stars in the sky were giggling like 6 year olds that just heard you say a word they think is embarrassing. They knew that the Universe was messed up but couldn't help but think it was a bit funny. Yeah the jokes on me, I get it.

How was I going to do any of this? I am obviously mental and not fit to mother children, we had nothing in regards to baby stuff. I just accused my husband of having  pig hoofs for hands. My stomach was going to resemble a huge giant pancake topped with bread dough. All of this was going to be impossible, there was no way. Where was Baby Loving Man? I need him to go and try dribbling a football.

The Anyone Can Do This Series- Bountiful Basket helpers and a recipe-Tabbouleh

I'm tying this post in with the Bountiful Basket posts I do because it can fit both types of readers. There are tips in this particular post that can help anyone, but it also deals with those who just bought their produce. So win win for everyone! Hooray.

So first I will get the tips out of the way and then end with the recipe.

Tip #1: The picture above is of a head of romaine lettuce and fresh green beans in zip lock bags. Fresh vegetables are great, but if they aren't stored well they go bad before you even get a chance to use them. I put a paper towel in with the item which wicks away the moisture and keeps it fresh longer. I can't even count how many times I have killed produce because I was to lazy to baggie and paper towel them. Herbs like cilantro and parsley keep particularly good this way and last way longer than if you just throw them in the fridge with the grocery store bag over them.

Tip #2: Bags of potatoes-When I came home with my produce the bag of potatoes that were included were quite wet. DO NOT put a wet bag of potatoes under the sink or out in the garage. I want to barf just thinking about what happens. They rot and it smells horrible. We have searched for some dead animal in our garage only to find out it was a bag of potatoes. So I leave them on the counter and turn them every so often and they seem to dry fairly quickly. Then I can store them with no problem. And by the way, DO NOT store potatoes next to onions. When they are close together they create gases that spoil them both.

Tip #3: Tomatoes-so you also got a bunch of tomatoes in your basket. What is the best way to store them? Not in the fridge....I know, how inconvenient. Tomatoes are very delicate and refrigerating them actually damages the membranes inside the fruit walls,  causing them to lose flavor and they tend to get a mealy texture. Sounds yummy..not. The best way to store them is at room temperature on the counter.

Enough tips...lets get to the recipe.

For those of you with cucumbers and tomatoes to use from your baskets this will help you eat those up. And for those of you looking for something healthy but very delicious...this will help you too! If you've never heard of this then it may seem a little odd, but it is ohhh so good. I would never lead you astray!

TABBOULEH

via Foodnework

Copyright 2001, Barefoot Contessa Parties!, All Rights Reserved

      Yeild 8 servings

Ingredients

• 1 cup bulghur wheat
• 1 1/2 cups boiling water
• 1/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (2 lemons)
• 1/4 cup good olive oil
• 3 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
• 1 cup minced scallions, white and green parts (1 bunch)
• 1 cup chopped fresh mint leaves (1 bunch)
• 1 cup chopped flat-leaf parsley (1 bunch)
• 1 hothouse cucumber, unpeeled, seeded, and medium-diced
• 2 cups cherry tomatoes, cut in half
• 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• Directions

Place the bulghur in a large bowl, pour in the boiling water, and add the lemon juice, olive oil, and 1 1/2 teaspoons salt. Stir, then allow to stand at room temperature for about 1 hour.

Add the scallions, mint, parsley, cucumber, tomatoes, 2 teaspoons salt, and the pepper; mix well. Season, to taste, and serve or cover and refrigerate. The flavor will improve if the tabbouleh sits for a few hours.

*NOW: This recipe makes and excellent side dish, salad or you can stuff it inside of a pita with greek yogurt. It is really very good.I recently had company and served it along side roasted salmon and it was a hit. If you have ever prepared cous cous it is very similar. 

*Variations- It calls for cherry tomatoes but plain diced tomatoes work just fine. It also calls for mint and parsley. The last time I made it I just added a cup of chopped cilantro and it was great. 

*Bulghur wheat can many times be found in the bulk section of your grocery store. Winco has it for super cheap. This recipe only calls for one cup of dried bulghur wheat but prepared makes enough for 8 people. 

PLUS-my kids gobbled this up, and lately I can barely get them to eat anything that doesn't have cheese on it.

Moral of the story? You can do this! It's healthy and takes no time.

xoxoxo

Heidi

Chapter five: Ugly cries aren't that pretty

via pinterest

Time was at hand for my easy breezy first official appointment. Official meaning in wasn't a blood test, it wasn't a who beats you, you can tell us appointment. This one was real, like with a real doctor. Baby Loving Man came with me expecting it to be easy breezy too seeing that we had done this three times before. We were pros. We had this under control.

My name was called and guess what? I was on my way to steppy up on that stupid freaking scale. But this time she wasn't pushing the top nob all that far right this time. "Looks like you lost 4 pounds" the nurse says. Hell yes! I smiled knowing that my healthy freaky eating plan was in full gear, but at the same time I thought it was odd. I could see staying the same weight but not loosing it. Oh well, I'm sure it didn't mean anything and so I went into my appointed room.

"Put this on and the doctor will be right in." We both sat there. Looking around at our feet, making our way around the room, fixating on all of the strange sterile equipment. The pictures framed on the wall were there to make you feel a little more relaxed, but I hate to break it to you...swishy lines in watercolor don't do that for most people. Doctor's offices are funny. Even if you've been in them one hundred times before you never feel totally comfortable. I'm sure it usually has something to do with you sitting there half naked waiting for a semi-stranger to come in and say hi. It's like being invited over to someone else's house for dinner and then knowing at some point...you know what, I'm going to stop that analogy dead in it's tracks. You get the point right? It's just not the funnest most inviting thing ever but you know you have to...that's all I'm saying.

The doctor finally comes in with the knock that they do only after they've already started to open the door. I to this day can never figure that out. If you're going to come in...then just commit to it. Don't knock after you're half way inside. If you were trying to warn me I'm pretty sure I could figure it out by the door actually opening. Just saying. So we chit chat about my due date, questions that I have, previous pregnancies and all that jazz. "Okay, are we ready for the ultrasound?" she says. Umm lady, I was born ready. Lets do this.

The machine she's working with has the screen the size of an ipod. From the angle I'm at I could barely see what she was looking at and even if I could see I'm pretty sure I'd have no idea what any of it meant, or what it was to be honest. All I could tell was that she had a perplexed look on her face and kept saying "Hmmmm, let's see, hmmmm." This struck me as a bit odd and I looked over at Baby Loving Man who just shrugged his shoulders. He was in the same boat as me and had no flipping idea what he was looking at. My eyes are still looking at his face waiting for him to give me some sign that he had figure it out when she says "Well there's two sacs" I immediately retort "What does that mean? What does that mean two sacs?" I for sure was under the impression that it was some kind of deformity. I honest to goodness had no idea what the hell she was talking about. "Two sacs...babies...twins, you're having twins" she says.

I am ashamed to repeat what I said in response, but I'm pretty sure it something like "What the eff did you just say, oh sh$@, NOOOO!, what the hell, oh..." and lets just say I made in through the alphabet of ugly words, probably ones in different languages that I've learned along the way. And then...as the thought of what "two" really truly meant, then came the ugly cry. I can only describe it as a half human, half moster kind of sobbing panic. Between the snarrling cries and cussing I was having a out of body experience. There was now way this situation was really happening. I was being punked...Ashton? Where are you?! I seriously thought I was dreaming and I'm not just saying that, I was hyperventilating and going into shock while Baby Loving Man had the dumbest grin plastered across his face. Of course you would be smiling wouldn't you! Stupid man that loves babies!

The doctor probably in fear of her own safety...life even, excused herself. I'm pretty sure she'll be knocking next time. There was nothing I could do to come out of this heart stopping coma cry. This inhuman whale/wolf cry. I am positive packs of wild creatures were forming to come and rescue this beast they thought was beckoning them in dire need of support. It was howling not fit for the human ear. It was primal and it was bad I tell you. Bad.

I finally was able to breath without the snarling sounds, it sounded much more human now, which I think was my doctors cue to knock before she opened the door deciding that the threat of being ripped apart limb from limb had maybe passed. I apologized perfusly repeating "I just wanted one, I can only handle one...not two" It was the only words I could form and became a mantra I just said over and over as I rocked myself. Oh man. Everything was a blur and I couldn't figure out what was up or what was down. I had cracked.

This little life, these silly dreams didn't stand a bleeping chance. The train had come, squashed it, reversed itself dead on the tracks and managed to smashed it to smithereens all over again. I'll Fly Away wasn't even going to cut this one. It would be like high fiving someone that just picked up a tank and hucked it across a football field...a high five just won't do for something like that, and I'll Fly Away wasn't near dramatic enough for what had just happened. I needed Mozarts Requiem in D Minor. It was the only thing that would do this justice. The daunting choir and the violent strings almost scolding it's audience.... it was the only music that would work. I'm pretty sure it was playing during my ugly beastly cry performance too. This was now the theme song to this whole entire nightmare. It was the end. Le fin as the french would say. The curtains were drawing the faster and faster the strings climbed up and down their arpeggios, the choir crying out it's warning to all who would listen until it all just comes to an abrupt stop. All is quiet. What am I going to do.....with two.

The Anyone Can Do This Series-a mission statement

With one foot firmly planted in your life of mac and cheese...yes the one you make out of the box, take your other foot and just like a lovely ballerina extend it out and dip it into the world of what you may not understand but could if you were just taught. A world of pastries, breads, meat braising, unusual spices and techniques that will bring you happiness....if all you did was just extend your foot out of your comfort zone. I'm not saying you have to spend hours in the kitchen to do so, or cook up beetles...nothing like that! But sometimes what we don't understand can hold us back...yes?

I have been there. I have stayed away from recipes and ideas that seemed just to daunting. Not even giving them a real look. But I realized one day that failure, if anything can bring knowledge and it was a risk I was willing to take.

A lot of people ask me the same questions. Where did I learn to cook? What school did I go to? How come I just know what to do? etc. Well I didn't go to a school per say. I went to the Heidi Academy. I rolled up my sleeves, dove in and poured over book after book, made recipe after recipe. I made up my own curriculum for free and it has payed off (so far). Having the passion and love of food always helps. Even as a little girl cooking was very special to me...so was food, I was a chubby monster. I am always learning....always and probably will continue until my very last breath.

With a catering company it is hard in that I want to share a lot of my recipes but those recipes are also part of my job. It's hard to know what to give out and what to keep to myself. The more I realize my catering days are over for a little while (now that I'm having twins) I can maybe be a little more generous with what I know, and here's why I want to be....

Joy. One of my favorite things in the whole world is to feed people. To watch their eyes roll back in their head because of the bite they just took. Food brings people together, good food makes everything better. There is something magical about it. I want this for my friends and for my readers. To make a magical moment even it it's with the best chili con carne topped with big bits of  thick bacon, jack cheese, avocados, cilantro and the creamiest sour cream. It can happen, I've been there. Even chili can bring everyone together. Now if I could only eat this amazing chili while riding a unicorn...that would truly make it magical...but I digress.

There might be things I throw at you that are a little bit different but it doesn't mean you can't do it or you won't like it. We will cover pastries and work with butter. Sometimes the things that seem the scariest are actually the easiest to make...surprise! There might also be tips, like where to by things, how to pick the best items that fit in your budget and how to stock your pantry. You will see how breezy it can be to make something wonderful and bring joy to those around you...um and yourself, lets not forget that part.

I would love suggestions. You that replied to my FB post, thank you! If you have a certain term you don't understand, or things that have failed in the past and you just don't know why, leave a comment and I will help you. You are probably not alone. This is for you, so you can learn and be even better in the kitchen. May it bring you oodles of joy.

xoxoxo

Heidi

Easy Entertaining - you can do this!

We recently had house guests and I wanted to make sure they had a yummy snack after their flight and long drive. This was the perfect arrangement of easy to set out food but something delicious that made an impression. Even if you aren't an extravagant cook, you can totally do this. It's beautiful to boot!

What are we looking at here: (left to right)
Grapes-separated into easy to handle small clumps
English Cucumber Slices
Peppered Salami
Chevre-goat cheese (I like Trader Joe's silver label, but costco has some good chevre too)
Slices of prosciutto
Fuji apple thinly sliced and tossed with lemon

I served this with a medley of crackers on a plate next to this one.

I placed things in groupings that compliment each other. The French often eat cucumber slices with salami and prosciutto pairs nicely with fruit. I normally would do melon along side the prosciutto but due to them not being in season I opted for apples. Most of you probably know this but tossing apples in lemon helps lessen the browning process.

Since I can't see myself catering anytime soon, I will share a trick I have discovered. Anytime you are serving a hunk of cheese where people may help themselves, whether it be a wedge of Brie or a big piece of  Point Reyes Blue, you want to take your cheese knife and dig into it a little. This invites people to go for it. No one ever seems to want to be the first one to dig the knife in, so its just easier if  you do it for them. As you can see, I did this in the picture above, it wasn't for show, that's just how I do it because I know better.

The only work this involves is slicing the cucumber and apples and maybe cutting down the grapes into smaller clusters. I just use my kitchen scissors and snip them up. See anyone can do it, and your friends will be impressed.....and you just say "why thank you".

You are welcome!

xoxoxo

Heidi

Chapter four: Hello pounds, goodbye dream

image via http://vintagegal.tumblr.com

I finally made it past where I had with the last pregnancy. Shew, but not shew completely. I knew better than to high five myself at this point. No ma'am. I scheduled my blood test again and hoped I would make it until then. Once I reached my appointment I was able to breath a little easier. The nurse called me later that day "Well miss, congratulations, you're pregnant". Yah, thanks...I'm pretty sure that's why I scheduled the appointment, good thing you told me though. You guys, I'm really not a nice person. I didn't actually say that to her, she was nice enough, but in a perfect world I would have. See?..not nice.

My next "paper work" appointment was up next. If you've ever been to one of these, they disguise it by calling it a "paper work" appointment but you are only to come alone. What it really is, is..does your boyfriend/husband beat you? appointment...really you can tell us..appointment. I'm not sure how many times the nurse hinted at this as we filled out the same exact paperwork I had spent hours completing at the previous blood test appointment. I finally told the lady "look, if someone actually had the balls to beat me, I'm pretty sure they're still missing...capiche?". She laughed, I however was not laughing and it was a prefect world at that moment because I really did say that. Again, not nice.  They ended up taking my blood pressure, and my weight just like they did at the last appointment. "Go ahead, steppy on up the scale" she says to me. Who says steppy? No one with a pair of broken legs that's who. So I strip myself, loosing as much stuff as I can, my goddy turquoise ring, shoes, sweater, bobby pin, lint off of my shirt. All tricks I had learned at my Weight Watchers meetings trying to lose the fat I had acquired from my last baby. As I  steppy up on the scale she starts sliding the top nob over to the right..more and more...and over and over. Seriously? "10lbs" she says. 10 pounds? What does that mean? "You've gained 10 pounds since the last time you were here." THANK YOU! Thanks for clearing that up. The sad part is, is that the last time I was there was one week ago. How does someone gain 10 pounds in a week? Mmmmk? Is that even possible? My clothes fit fine as far as I could tell. Great. Just great. So much for not getting fat. I'll just scratch that off my little dream list that is definitely getting hit by that train. I can hear the train whistle now. Chugga chug chug.

I went home good and mad. Angry at the steppy up language and more than anything at the 10 effing pounds I gained in one week. I started doing the math, 10 x 40 weeks=4000 pounds! Holy hell....did I do the math right? I've always never been good at math. I even got out my phone and did it on my fail proof calculator which was apparently failing because it said 4000.That is the size of a whale! A walrus? A huge elephant? So I literally just googled a 4000 pound animal, and do you know what came up? Guess? A cow! How very appropriate! Of course it would be a cow. UUGGHHH. (p.s. I know the equation is wrong...but this is to show you how my mind actually works and in my world...40x10 is 4000lbs...not 400 like it would be in yours per say).

I'll fly away, fly away oh lordy..I'll...fly away in the morning.....and so the eulogy to my little life and silly dream starts to play on a mega phone. All I can do is cover my ears!

So I went quickly into healthy freak eating mode. I will not, not, not get fat. I wasn't trying to loose weight because that is bad when you're knocked up, I was just trying not to be anymore ridiculous the next time I had to steppy up which was in a few weeks. It turned out this healthy freak eating wasn't so bad and you know what? I felt pretty good.

I also was on the hunt to figure out how long I could conceal this pregnancy. I was pretty darn confident at least 3 months. Have you ever watched that show I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant? I was for sure I was going to be one of those women that could hide it, the only difference is that I was doing it on purpose. Watching those other crazy sad shows about teenagers who can hide it from their parents for 9 months also made me think...okay..what did they wear? Hoodies and baggy jeans. Yes, if I dress like Left Eye from TLC I will surely fool everyone. Thug life 4eva was what would help me out....I could do it, I went to Florin. (anyone who doesn't know what Florin is, won't get that joke..for all the rest of who do....amen right?)

I was ready. Hoodie? Check. Baggy Jeans? ummm not really, I wore cigarette jeans but the hoodie would faze out what counted. It was go time, no one would know. Who's pregnant? that's right...no one was. Very good, you're catching on.

It was totally working. Healthy freak eating was on track, thug trickery outfit in place. Ha ha ha no one was the wiser and it was time for my next appointment. This would be quick, painless even. I would get my little ultrasound, steppy up on the scale. It was all good. All too good.

Chapter three: Airing dirty laundry

Image via http://www.discoveryresearchgroup.com

I won't sugar coat this for you, I was a nasty little beast while all of this was going on. I was edgy, pissed and felt severely betrayed by my own body. Here I had let this idea that I wasn't sure of in the first place take a seat in my life and it blew up in my face. I had invited it in....part of me accepted it and then the carpet was ripped out from under my legs. Nice.

Nobody ever really wants to lose a baby. As sad as Baby Loving Man was I still don't think he really knew how much this whole thing really affected my brain. I was even a little surprised at just how taken back I was by the whole thing. I think talking about miscarriages feels like we are airing them out on the line to dry for the whole neighborhood to see. It's hard to bring up. "Hey,..sorry I've been such a B face lately....I've had a miscarriage..so there ya go". It's just not that simple. Most of the people I know reading this are finding my experience out for the first time because I didn't talk about it. And as women I think we deal with it quietly and as quickly as possible even thinking that maybe we don't have a right to be as sad as we really are. And may I just say...you have a right to be as sad as you damn well please for as long as you damn well want. You were pregnant for heavens sake and then your not. Not fun stuff here.

Sitting in the car which was parked in my driveway I tried to make sense of what this all meant. Was it a sign that this shouldn't go on? Was it a test to see how bad I really wanted it? Why was this happening? Unfortunately I have a hard time just going along with things. I need to know why, when, where. Asking these questions while it can be a good quality also can drag things out for the long haul and I know makes me a bit of a pill to be around. These were legitimate questions that I needed answers to though. Where were the answers? I'll just be in my car parked in my driveway Universe whenever you a ready to answer them. Thanks.

Did I really want to do this one more time? What if it didn't work? Would it be even more devastating if I did and it all went wrong again? I wasn't sure I could take it. But the nagging little inkling again got the better of me. I saw how this whole miscarriage thing impacted me and if I didn't want a baby...then why was this so hard? It was something I was willing to do one more time. But one more was all I think I could take. We could take.

We were headed to California shortly after this whole disaster. Mike was there for work and the kids and I hitched a ride with him to see our friends and family. I was trying to protect myself from being hurt again, trying not to think about whether this one last effort at a baby had worked. I tried not to even care and our trip proved to be a great distraction. There was too much to do and way too many places to be to even give much of it a real thought. I had set it up on a shelf and let it sit until I was ready to give a good glance.

Towards the end of our trip just a day or two before I could take the test, the same thing started to happen like the last time. What the hell? No oh no..please no. And then it stopped..just like that. What-the-freak Universe! You are an evil B aren't you? I would really be curious to know who I was in a past life that I'm paying for in this one! My sister in law begged me to take a test..the test. It better be positive because there was going to be no other tests taken by this lady, not one more.

I set it on the counter and walked out of the bathroom. I had Baby Loving Man come in and see what the results were, he knew that if it wasn't good he was out of luck and I know it freaked him out something fierce. He walked out of the room smiling, hugging me. I was happy. I was. But I wasn't convinced it would stick .


As we returned from California I was dreading going home in a strange way. I didn't want to have to face my friends after this all went badly. No one knowing was hard enough and then to put on my big girl happy panties for everyone was much harder. I just didn't want anything to do with it really. In plain words, it sucked. Waiting for anything to go badly sucks.

Chapter two: Losing is a two way street

There in my kitchen I had lost this battle. I looked around at the pale butter cream yellow walls and yellow fromica counter tops (those colors were not my choices) and tried not to be bitter realizing what had just happened. I looked up at my huge print by Leonetto Cappielo for comfort. There was something about the character dancing around, holding his huge plate of pasta, twirling it gleefully with a big fork for all the world to see that made me happy. I waited staring at him, hoping for just this one moment in time he would set down his pasta and tell me this was all going to be okay. A wink? Wink twice if this is a bad idea. Once? Nothing. Traitor with your pasta and clown outfit.

As the reality kicked in I started thinking about how I was going to explain this new decision to my friends and family. For all they knew I was done. Finished. Not having more kids. I don't know how else to say that to make it more clear. No more I tell you! I decided to warn two of my friends as courtesy not to blindside them later and it was hard not to be a little embarrassed. "Yes, I know I already have 3 but one more will do". Sounds great rolling of one's tongue. They were very supportive, but I could see the look of Beezy's gone crazy, and they were right. I had gone crazy. The whole thing was ridiculous.

The next hurdle-I now had to make the dreaded trip to the doctor. As women we all know how that goes and lets just say I needed to get some road blocks out of the way. This step was HUGE because it made it real now. Like for reals. And who was making it real? I was. Panic was my constant companion at this point and we were joined at the hip having a grand ole time. It was getting really hot and heavy between us. I was hoping he would break it off very soon.

To the rest of the world this was a secret. I wasn't telling anyone until I actually had something to tell them which wasn't now. My lips were zipped shut, I was doing this on my own. Who needed to know anyway? Nobody.

I've always had respect and a huge amount of compassion for woman who haven't had the ability to conceive their own children. Women who have gone years checking every month to see whether they are having a baby or not. Although I had a great deal of compassion for these woman I still had a hard time relating because I have always been "fertile myrtle" and have come from a long line of breeders as my family likes to say. Imagine a poster with my face on it and below the caption says "If you sneeze on me I'll have your baby". Horrifying but you get the idea. If anything I've always tried to not get pregnant. I knew as soon as we tried, it would be a done deal. There was an arrogant confidence there because it had never been a problem for me. Let's just say one out of my three kids were planned.

June rolled around and nothing. July.........nothing. August.......nada. Ummm hello? Someone sneeze already!
Waiting each month wondering if you are having a baby only to see no line on your test effs with your brain! It's frustrating and sad and you start to wonder what is exactly wrong with you. To the women who have done this song and dance for years, may I say what strong and lovely souls you are. I got a real taste of how it feels and its not fun at all. It's discouraging and you wonder why you are continuing this nonsense.

Finally in September I took my ritualistic test that I just knew would be negative and low and behold there was a little line where no line had been before. I was relieved that it was there but at that point it had become a game in my mind...and I had to win and won I had. Baby Loving Man was of course elated and we had made a pact to wait before telling anyone. I had all of these emotions swirling around my head. On one hand I was so happy that I wasn't broken and on the other had it was now so real...and my little life and silly dreams were once again helplessly tied to the train track. I could see it all unfolding before my eyes. I better start brushing up on I'll Fly Away because the funeral was about to begin. I despised my double feelings about the whole matter. But they were valid feelings in my mind and they were there...stuck whether I liked it or not.

About 5 weeks into it, the day I was supposed to go in to my OB and take my blood test I miscarried. I had never had a miscarriage before. I had to call and cancel my appointment and let things go on as they were. It was heartbreaking. I felt not only heartbroken but guilty because of how previously bitter I was about my little life's funeral that wasn't even going to happen now. What kind of a monster was I? Who thinks like this? Sick people like me that's who. Sick freaks. I realized going through this that I really did want a baby. Once it was there and now gone so suddenly I wanted it. Was the Universe checking to see how bad I really wanted this? It messed with my head I won't lie. Baby Loving Man was devastated. Why should we even continue any of this? The whole thing was a dismal mess. Things were not good here on the home front.

Chapter One: One more is just too many

My husband is one of those sweet men that just loves a baby. He can't get enough of them, holding them, talking to them. I guess having 40 or so nieces and nephews does that to you. I on the other hand have one brother that is 6 years younger than me, and lets just say I got my fill changing his diapers. I never grew up around babies and that was just find with me. With our first son, I made Mike come to the baby shower with me. He wasn't thrilled but he did it. A lady saw him there and shouted "Lets make him change a diaper!!" I think it was an attempt to initiate him into father hood and embarrass the crap out of him . If she only knew that her comment probably should have been thrown at me. He definitely knew more about babies than I did. It's a quality I adore about him. However, with this love of babies comes the love of wanting his own. He has three and you would think three is plenty. Well at least I do.

Over the last few years he has hinted (many times) that maybe we should have one more. ONE more, while as my youngest son grows older, the thought of starting all over in the baby department also seems to fade more and more out of the picture. But deep down in my resisting heart, I knew he was right, that our family needed just one more person in it and that's when my selfish side comes to the fore front.

Here's is my line up: Michael is my oldest and is 10, Arie is 7, and Noah is 5. These are self sufficient people for the most part. They can get their own cereal, fold clothes, clean bathrooms. Not to mention that here in Washington, 5 means you get to go to Kindergarten next Sept. I would have all week to myself...TO MY SELF...to do what ever the heck I want. I had visions of starting my Etsy store back up, making purdy signs again, working out, watching crummy soap operas, singing Adele songs as loud as I want! These are real dreams people. I shouldn't leave out that I also didn't want to get fat. Let's just be honest. So as these feelings of "one more" bubble up, my dreams of having a little life to myself stops dead in its tracks. It then gets hit by a train, and then has a funeral where I would sing I'll Fly Away. Game over.

The more I tried to deny this possible baby, the more the Universe decided to show me how wrong I was. I can't even count the times my extended family has "accidentally" set out an extra place setting for a child that didn't exist. Or a friend  wondering where my "other" kid was...when they had already counted 3. Someone else I knew actually used these words and I quote "It feels like someone's missing." Was this the Universe screaming out to me "Stop denying this you hag...it's what you are supposed to do! Get with the bloody program". I'm not sure if the Universe says bad words originating in England, but she could and this would be an appropriate time for her time to do so. Sometimes bad words are the only way to get my attention. It sounds fun but not always.

So Mike and I finally had the talk. The talk I hoped to resolve this issue and put it to rest once and for all. We talked about all of the cons. How it would affect our goals and our money and or family and you name it. This idea of having one more baby didn't look good and part of me was so very relieved. And when the conversation was over, we decided that was that. There would be no train to come and crush my new little life, I would not be singing I'll Fly Away anytime soon. Glorious!  But I could see the sadness in his face even though he knew it just wasn't going to work. It just was not. How could it? It didn't make sense. I got up as fast as I could so it could just be over.

That whole night I could barely sleep. I was wrestling with myself, but why? I had gotten what I wanted. No more babies, no buying diapers, sleeping through the night ....part of my life back. But that stupid little inkling that someone else was missing didn't go away.  What was that whole stupid conversation about if it didn't go away? I had everything under the sun to back it up that it was not an awesome idea. But it wouldn't stop. There was no way I was telling this baby loving man that it was still there, the possibility lurking in my brain, in my heart. Not one word.

The next evening Mike took me aside and said "The thing is, is that I know it's not a good idea, but I think we are supposed to do it any way." DAMMMNNNN ITTTT!!! Why, oh why, oh why, did you have to say those words!!! I stood there in the kitchen, staring at the freaking floor, at my worn Lucky Brand slippers, and realized he had won.

Things that go bump...in the bathtub.

image from pinterest

It would be nice to think that as we all mature, our boogie men and strange childhood phobias would out grow us. And for some they probably do. For me this is NOT the case. And last night I realized how ridiculous I really am because of how my imagination can still get the better of me. 

There are things even now that freak me out so bad it limits a lot of things I do. For example, there is no way that I will ever swim in a pool at night in the deep end and now that I think about it, I try and stay in the shallow end even in the day time. Luckily I still have kids that are learning to swim so I can blame it on them.  I don't make a big deal about it when swimming, actually it really embarrasses me. It's not that I can't swim either. I was on the swim team for a really long time and was really quite good at it. The real reason is because of sharks. That's right, sharks...like the ones in the ocean.

I know. 

But my imagination somehow convinces me that there are fresh water great white sharks that can mimic the siding of a pool so they are virtually invisible. And there at the bottom totally incognito they wait oh so patiently until I come along splashing up a storm only to snatch me up by my legs and drag me to an untimely watery death. Yes I'm 31 years old.

Which now brings to me the bathtub story and oh how appropriate since we are still dealing with my fears of water and what lies beneath.

So I decide to take a bath and now that I am pregnant with twins baths are the only thing that I enjoy about my life right now. I turn the water on, add some bubble bath and walk away to get myself ready...you know the drill. Now may I start off with saying I always inspect the bathtub before I even start running the water because the last thing I want to do is to find out I've been in there with a huge dead daddylong legs and then have a heart attack and die.

I get into the bath which is still filling up, bubbles are piled everywhere and I sit there waiting for my feet to get warm and then all of a sudden something pokes the side of my rear. I jump thinking who is trying to attack me in this bathtub! (because so many times people attack me in the bathtub right?) and so I swish the water in that area to see what's there..but nothing. Now I can't see below all of the bubbles and I'm totally clueless as to what is actually in the water with me. I'm telling myself that it was nothing when it happens again but this time on my leg. And you know what? It feels like little baby doll fingers are trying to come and get me!!! (my doll phobia is a whole other story) At this point I wish an old man wearing a helmet and a handle bar mustache was in there with me. So I swish the water again and nothing. This happens several times all around the tub and each time I can visualize the creepy baby doll coming after me. I leap out of the tub and I'm so freaked out that I can't even muster the courage to stick my hand in the water to fish out what it is so I just undo the drain as fast as I can and wait. As the water gets closer and closer to the drain and the bubbles start to fade I can make out something...it's red...please don't be a red devil baby doll head....wha? Do you know what it was? It was my son's lego boat the size of a cell phone. Jokes on me baby doll...jokes on me.

People...I don't even know what to say other than I am a complete crack head! I've had 3 10lb children, 2 major back surgeries and a whole slew of other frightening things happen to me. But fresh water pool sharks, red lego boats and creepy baby dolls seem to be just too much for this hag. 

Cheers to all of you who still hold on to your childhood phobias...lets just say we live in excitement even if it's in our own mind. 

xoxoxox

Heidi

Tender Mercies

I was searching through my posts recently and came across one that I wrote last year at this very same time. It was my New Years resolution to myself..To Forgive. I made the title into a link if you want to go read it but a lot of you already have.

Unfortunately I 'm still working on this subject. It's probably something that will take me longer than 1 year to totally get over but here's what I've learned so far in the midst of trying to break it all down and figure it all out. I've discovered the tender mercies I've been blessed with in my life. And in discovering these treasures it has helped ease the pain, the hurt, and the heartache.

I was able to meet my father in August of 2008. The timing was interesting because Mike would be starting school again that month and I knew it would be a year before I would have another opportunity to meet him. I bought my plane ticket for Texas and it just wasn't an option not to go. I know he even had reservations about me coming, a lot having to do with me not approving of his lifestyle which never was an issue for me. But I was going..no matter what anyone said because it was something I just had to do...like I said before, in my mind there was no other option.

The day that I was to leave Texas, my Dad and I were alone in the house. We had about 4 hours to kill before we had to leave for Houston to catch my flight. He sat in his big rocking chair with a very solemn look on his face and I asked what was wrong. He told me that every time he had bargained with God he had always followed through. He asked God to let him keep his job at the paper mill until all of his daughters graduated high school. After my last sister was done, the paper mill closed and he was out of the job. He went on to say that he also prayed his whole life that he would live long enough to see me and that now that it has happened he knew his time was short.."God always keeps his promises" he said.

It was a heart breaking moment. Tears running down his face I knew somehow deep inside he was right and it was something I will never forget. We just sat there, the both of us crying like little girls knowing his fate.

As I got out of his truck at the airport I knew the next time I came to Texas everything would be different. We talked just about everyday after I got home. He would tell me in each conversation that time was running out and this could be the last time we talked. I would always stop him and tell him not to think that way. That February he was killed.

Although I have a hole in my heart that will probably never ever ever mend, as I examine the events that lead  up to that moment I realize the tender mercy the lord gave me. If I hadn't have gone that August I would have never met my Dad in person. If I hadn't pursued looking for him when I did, then it would have been too late later down the line. It's is not a coincidence...not one bit of it. As angry as I am that he is gone, it is eased by my Heavenly Father loving me enough to give me the opportunity, my tender mercy in meeting him and giving me those memories before he was gone. A precious gift I am eternaly thankful for.

Sometimes life can be so cruel. Sometimes our tender mercies are the only things that make this life bearable. Realizing that him leaving this earth was part of his plan helps me forgive the woman who hit him.

When I look at the picture I posted above, I see myself as a little girl. How could our Heavenly Father not love his children? How could the Savior not love his sister? They want us to be happy. My new year's resolution is not only to still pursue forgiving, but seeing the tender mercies in even the worst of times.

May this year be your brightest year!

love,
Heidi

The right tool...for the right job.

Sometimes you just need the right tool for the right job.  When I look around at creations I have powered out over the years I can't help but be a little baffled at the tools (or lack of) that I have used to get the job done.

For example...take a look at this sad little guy....

Can you believe this is the only glue gun I have ever owned? Sadness. This is a fine tool for gluing on some small lettering. Maybe adhering some ribbon to a bobby pin...or helping your friend glue a barbie head back on...but not for something like this:

For the love of toothpicks don't you ever use a glue gun this size with little glue sticks the size of swizzle sticks to do something of this nature. Not only did I have hand seizures...I had blisters on my thumb and pointer finger and I even made up a new cuss word from burning myself several times because I had to work so fast to compensate for the tiny beads of swizzle glue that came out of my infant sized gun. "B face" was the new cuss word in case you were curious....you have my permission to use it, but just don't use it in front of your kids. Mmmmmk?

So I got a little money for Christmas and I decided to buy something that was actually for myself...low and behold my dears...a human size glue gunner! yes Ma'am I did it. And I can't stop dreaming of all the things I can hot glue now that I won't be crippled with glue gunner's arthritis.

Ahhh yes I'm on to bigger and better things. Now that I have this new tool I can finally put my big girl crafting panties on and join the rest of you with dignity!

YAY FOR ME!

xoxoxo

Heidi

Happy New Year from us...

I can't believe another year has gone by. This will be our second Christmas here in Washington making it almost a year and a half that we have been here.

I get a lot of people asking me if we have adjusted to living here. I think it took a while, especially with the weather. But we are lucky to have many great friends that make it easy to live far away from what we know. Not to mention the marion berries/blackberries in September and our friend who brings us fresh crab from his boat. Those things make it even easier :)

The boys have had to get used to it ALWAYS raining. So they have to get creative inside rather than playing a lot outside. Which I know they miss.

Michael now 10, played soccer this year and has been doing great in school. He currently plays clarinet in the school band and loves that. He is really excelling in math and still has his love affair with WWII. He is becoming quite the history buff and is determined that he will be a Navy Seal. I sat him down and we read about Hell Week (which is basically Navy Seal boot camp) and even after reading that he says "Well I guess I better get started on my swimming lessons quick".

Arie is 7 and our walking encyclopedia. He loves to read read read. He also absorbs some pretty random but impressive knowledge (he is the one with the bow tie). This year he really wants to play basketball which he has a talent for. He also loves to draw and won an award recently for a contest at school.

Noah just turned 5 and is trying out how to be like his brothers. For better or worse its been and interesting ride. He also played soccer this year and had a great time. He also attends a Lutheran Preschool that he adores and loves his teacher, Ms. Theresa. He basically likes to do what ever his brothers are doing which drives them absolutely mad. Even when he's naughty he is absolutely adorable and he knows it.

Mike and I are still trying to wrap our brains around our twins which are due this coming June. We find out what they will be at the end of January and I know our family is chomping at the bit wanting to know the results.

Mike loves his job at the shipyard and it has been a huge blessing for us. He is also EQ President in our ward.

As for me...one day at a time I guess. Sounds fun right? There are so many things I want to do this next year and it will be interesting finding that balance with 5 kids! I also was recently called to YW 1st counselor which has been a lot of fun. I am excited to get to know the girls better this coming year.

We want to thank all of you who our in our lives. How lucky are we to have great friends and family that love and support us. Thank you! May this new year be your best year!

with love,

The Janssons