What's Your Defining Post?

Jen at Conversion Diary has had the brilliant idea of creating a one-time blog carnival in which we can post a link to the one post that seems to define our blogs. The one post that could give a good description of what our blog is about on a daily basis. I love this idea, and I've been thinking about it all morning.

I have trouble picking one, though. Do I link to one of my more serious posts, because that's what I feel deep inside? Or do I link to one of my goofy stories, because that's what I most often write about? Really, the post that would be most representative of my blog-style is probably one of my Quick Takes - I am nothing if not random.

But to pick one post, I went through my archives all morning and found one that I think presents my life in the way that it most often comes across on this blog. Sometimes messy, sometimes silly, and usually with a bright side thrown in. Something that shows my love of my vocation, my calling as a mother. So I picked this one: This Is The Thanks I Get?, about a midnight bedwetting.

Read it if you have a minute, and tell me what you think. Is it representative of my blog? Does it describe what you know about me?

Join us at Conversion Diary to discover some new blogs by reading through the list of Defining Posts, and add your own!

You Can Come Too, Too, Too

What is it about the zoo that is so magical? The exotic animals - yes. But it's more than that. It's the adventure of discovering the reality of creatures we've only seen in cartoony library book drawings. The creatures that walk and squawk and roll around. The creatures that excite our imaginations.

On our zoo trip last week, both girls were in awe of all the enormous and strange creatures....elephants, giraffes, monkeys, pythons, bears, tigers. All of those interesting animals, and yet Lauren was fascinated by a small flock of birds that swooped off in front of us as we walked along a path. These were plain ol' Missouri natives, and they preceded us at every turn in the path - like they were showing us the way forward; Lauren loved it, pointing and squealing in her daddy's arms.

Mia was more interested in the actual ZOO animals (I keep hearing her repeat z-o-o, one of the first words she's learned to spell), except for when they offended her delicate sense of smell. The monkeys and flamingos were the worst offenders; most of the rest were just plain exciting to behold.

The day was warm - but never hot; sunny and clear - but shade was never far away. Both girls jockeyed for the best position from which to view the animals: Daddy's shoulders.

Poor Daddy. He carried the weight of adventure and tired toddlers on his shoulders for most of the morning. Many times he was blinded by a set of enthusiastic hands smashing his hat bill over his eyes. Isn't this what a Daddy was made for? Providing his child with a high perch to see the world, and enduring moments of sightlessness due to her exuberance?

When they weren't vying for Daddy's shoulders, the girls had a good time just wandering around this foreign playground.

And Mama was occasionally requested as well. This was by the end of the morning, when hunger and sleepiness was taking over. Mama's arms usually seem like the best place to rest a weary body.

How do you know your baby is no longer a baby? Well, lots of ways, but one particularly telling occasion is when she can feed a giraffe from her own hand. And not be afraid. This girl is standoffish with dogs -but giraffes? No problem.

Lauren was a bit more nervous. After all, this giraffe's head was about the same size as Lauren's 22 pound body. When it swung repeatedly in our direction searching for more treats, it was like a giant pendulum of fear in Lauren's eyes. She squeezed her thighs around my waist so tightly that I thought it likely for her to have a career in horseback riding. If not for the peril of giant, pendulous horse heads, that is.

Add to that a forceful huff of a giraffe sneeze landing oozily on my arm -the arm holding Lauren - and we were outta there soon after.

We thought it was a wonderfully fun day at the zoo. How about you, you, you?

Meet Drippy & Melty

One of our 'exciting' activities this week during Justin's vacation was to have ice cream cones in the backyard. Not a big deal in the grand scheme of things, but Mia's only ever had one ice cream cone before and this was Lauren's first time. So, super exciting in their eyes. Plus, anything occurring outside has got to be cool.

Lauren was a little concerned about what to do with the ice cream once it touched her lips. Bite? Suckle? Kiss? Eventually she settled on touching it to her mouth and then shoving the drips around her face. I even think she tasted some of it, too.

Mia was a bit more adept at handling the cone. She went right to work, not missing a drip of the sweet icy goodness.

Once Lauren got her hands on the cone without my supervision, she discovered the best way to eat it. Doesn't this look like the perfect thing to do with an ice cream cone? Smash your face into in and melt it into submission?

So, I guess Mia missed a few drips, but she really did an overall great job with a potentially messy situation. The girls loved their cones, and I think they're expecting them on a regular basis now that they're professional ice cream coners.

And I'm not opposed to a higher frequency of ice cream cones, either. What's good for the kids is good for the mama, right? Especially when those things lead to smiles like this?

That's definitely good for the mama.

7 Quick Takes Friday, #29

1. This week has been So. Much. Fun. Justin's been on vacation, and we've really been trying to do different activities together to make up for the fact that we didn't actually GO anywhere. Maybe next time we'll have a trip or something planned far enough in advance to not make my worrying tendencies flare up. This time, though, we settled for our ordinary home with some extraordinary fun. Extraordinary in our eyes anyway. We're planning a picnic for later today, we went to the 'bouncy slides', as Mia calls the inflatable gym, and we've had ice cream cones in the backyard. It's been a nearly perfect week.

Our biggest adventure this week was our trip to the zoo. I posted a few pictures on Wednesday depicting the girls' reactions to all the exotic smells, and I'm trying to edit the rest of the pictures to post this weekend for one GIANT zoo post. Should be fun. Stop back by to see a giraffe, up close and personal, along with my tiny little Mia feeding that giraffe. I was amazed by her bravery...this from the girl who would not go near the goat we'd passed a few minutes earlier at the petting part of the zoo. Who'da thunk it?

2. Also on our agenda for this week - bubble baths! Mia's had an easy thousand of these, but in keeping with the week-o-fun, we decided it was high time for LJ to experience the bubbles, too.

Lauren had such great respect for the bubbles that she politely lifted herself out of the water at the EXACT moment this picture (below) was snapped in order to let an errant toot escape. The sudden noise was enough to frighten Mia and I into having flashbacks of the floating poop fiasco. We both watched warily to see what would happen next, but thankfully, nothing was...forthcoming.

3. I've discovered something this week about myself: I'm a cranky napper. With Justin being home, and us doing funfunfun activities all week, I was so worn out that I gave in and decided to take a nap yesterday during the girls' naptime. Bad idea.

It's been quite awhile since I napped during the day - since Lauren was a newborn - and I fell asleep so hard that I woke up disoriented, sweaty, and grumpy. The rest of my day was off because I just felt so groggy. Usually, I'll sit down and read a book or write, and then if I get sleepy I'll close my eyes for a few minutes before the girls wake up. And that leaves me refreshed. Not cranky or sweaty.

I'm going to do my best to remember this and not let myself be talked into a full-length daytime nap in the future unless I'm terribly sleep deprived. Normal days plus abnormal naps equals no fun.

What's your perfect nap?

4. Lauren's continued to do really well at Kid's Day Out. She had one rough morning this week, but I think she's settling in fairly quickly. Monday morning was the day she had a bit more trouble than we'd expected...she cried when I left, but seemed to calm down easily enough. Later, they called and said she kept falling asleep only to wake back up and get upset, so I picked her up early.

Her teachers were concerned that she needed to get a nap right away, but as soon as we were in the car, she perked up and jabbered the whole way home. There were not 15 consecutive seconds of silence from the time we left until I got her asleep about an hour later. So, my guess is that she wasn't terribly tired at school, just worn out from all the newness of things - and bored from the lack of talking. I have no doubt that the teachers spoke to her all morning long, but being a shy girl, she wouldn't have talked back. And apparently, all that pent-up speaking will lead straight to a nap.

This must also be why Mia, at almost 4 years old, rarely takes a nap...she never stops talking long enough for her brain to quiet down. I'll call this The Ratio of Words to Sleep Theory. Have any other kids demonstrated this theory's truth? Let me know, and I may interview you when I'm published in a scientific study.

So, never. You're safe.

(Even I am surprised at the direction that Quick Take went. Feel free to be bewildered at my thought train. I know I am.)

5. Last week, I finished reading Persuasion by Jane Austen. I think I'd read it before - or attempted to - and not really enjoyed it much. It seemed distant and boring when I remembered what little of it I'd experienced. But this time was different. It was wonderful. My heart was actually pounding at intense moments, and I couldn't put it down at times. Late nights saw me poring over this story, intent on reading just one more chapter...one more page.

Why the change of heart? I saw the movie. I never thought I'd say that a movie had helped me enjoy a book more fully, but that is exactly what happened with Persuasion.

My husband bought me the complete set of Jane Austen movie adaptations from PBS last year, and Persuasion is one of my favorites. Pride and Prejudice, Sense & Sensibility, Mansfield Park, and Northanger Abbey were the others in the collection, and while I've loved them all, Persuasion has something different that sets it apart. I've watched it over and over, and finally decided to try re-reading the book; I am so glad I did. The book was one of the most difficult I've read, just in the sense of the language alone, but the feelings are so complex that I couldn't have sorted them out without seeing the actors' portrayals of them. Beautiful book, beautiful movie. I highly recommend both - starting with the movie.

Unless you are far more schooled in understanding Jane Austen's language than I am, and then by all means, read the book first. But if that's the case - you've probably already read it a hundred times, and are only suffering through my juvenile ramblings to be polite. Carry on.

6. What if Jane Austen had written a vampire novel? I KNOW it's blasphemy to even wonder about such a terrible mutation of literary styles. But still, I wonder. (Here we go again with my strange thought trains...lucky for you, if you click to a different page you are no longer subjected to them. For me, though? The days are long and confusing.)

7. I'm trying to decide what to take to our church's bake sale this weekend. What sorts of things have you had good luck with at bake sales? What sells first, and for the highest amounts - big, fancy cakes, or small plates of a few simple cookies? Conversely, what's your favorite baked good to purchase from a bake sale - a beautiful, whole pie, or a bag of mixed munchies for after lunch? (Who are we kidding - that bag of munchies rarely makes it past the church parking lot.)

Basically - WHAT SHOULD I CONTRIBUTE?

Thanks for stopping by This Heavenly Life today! Don't forget to click over to Conversion Diary for more Quick Takes, and have a beautiful weekend - the weather where I am is supposed to be in the upper 70's for a HIGH. In late AUGUST. And to me, that sounds like just about the most perfect forecast I've ever heard.

City Girls

Without having known very far in advance that Justin would be able to take a few days of vacation time this week, we planned some fun things to do close to home for the days the girls aren't in school. Terribly fun things like inflatable bouncing gym visits, ice cream cones, and the zoo.

There's a small zoo about an hour away from our house that we decided to explore yesterday, and here's how it went:

Oh, these sensitive nostrils. Just imagine how tortured they were with every new exotic poop smell...poor sheltered darlings.

I'll post more pictures later of our fun day at the zoo, but for now I just wanted to leave you with a question to ponder.

If a monkey poops in the jungle and there's no one around to smell it, does it still stink?

Hey, You Guys! Wanna Go Ride Bikes!?

Remember my husband? The Knight In Shining Armor (er...exoskeleton)? My handy garden-builder? The one I am so in love with it's all sappy and annoying to those around us?

Well, here's another piece of recently developed information about Justin: He's a biker.

Not a motorcyclist, but a cyclist. A road biker. And Good God A'mighty, he's in LOVE with this sport.

He faithfully rides almost every day, and what began as a way to get in shape, has morphed into his Favorite Thing Ever. The exhilaration! The speed! The bugs in his teeth! He sets off in the evening after the girls are in bed, clad in some TOIGHT spandex and armed with spare inner-tubes. (I don't mind it because I'm left with a bit of time for important tasks like cleaning, bill-paying and blogging. Emphasis on the last. Also, he's really getting in shape. This, I like.) When he returns some time later, chugging for breath, sweating puddles on the entryway floor, and calculating his average speeds and distances, he is the picture of joy. He is a kid in a candy store.

A candy store filled with bikes.

On the days he doesn't get to ride, he's roaming the internet, gazing longingly at bikes more worthy of admiration than his own. He'll turn from the computer to get my attention: "Sarah! Look at this so-and-so with a doo-hickey! It's [some fancy Italian brand], but it can be special ordered - with only a 2 year wait...It's 3 THOUSAND dollars! Do you like this blue and white version, or the red and gunmetal grey?!"

I'll look over with squinted eyes, hoping he's completely joking. His own bike is only 3 months old. His own bike has taken him over 1,000 miles so far - with many more miles possible. His own bike seemed quite extravagant at the time, though far less than those he screen-shops for online.

I'll say to him, slowly and carefully: "Sweetie....Look at my eyes....gooooood. Now, are you being serious? You....want....that bike? As in....sometime within the next 8 years? Because....I was told when you purchased your current bike....that....it was a good investment....for years and YEARS of exercise. Am I to understand.....correct me.....that you wish to spend 6 mortgage payments on aNOTHER bike?"

His eyes will slowly come into focus on my reality. And he'll assure me that it's just his way of daydreaming. Obviously he'd never get that bike....but perhaps in 3 or 4 more years....

We go on and on like this. Me acknowledging the beauty of an unattainable bicycle, and Justin planning for the day when he can call this or that unattainable beauty his.

Last night, the discussion went several miles out into left field.

I asked him what he'd do with his perfectly good, if somewhat cheaper, bike once he'd gotten hold of a newer, lighter, faster bike. His response was confusing at first.

"Well," he began, "when I used to travel for work, there was a plant manager down in Arizona who sawed the front end off an old bike, and hung it on his office wall so that it looked like it was driving out of the wall." At this point, Justin's eyes were starting to dart over our walls, his eyebrows became startlingly animated, and I swear I could feel the reverberations of his increased heart rate. The excitement was rolling off of him in ADD-like waves. "We could do that! You know the wall that separates our kitchen from the living room?! Yeah! And we could put the back half of the bike on the other side of the wall! And...you remember I have my grandfather's old bike from [some ancient year]? We could saw it in half too, and make like a timeline of bikes! We could get a collection of older bikes, all the way up to my bike, and have them all sticking out of the wall! Like a HISTORY OF THE BICYCLE!" He stopped to catch his breath, and awaited my enthusiastic response.

I was dumbfounded. How on earth could he think we should do that to our living room?

"That would be pretty awesome," I said dryly, "IF you were in a frat house. Or a bike store. Or maybe a bachelor pad."

He smiled at me, seeing that I'd bought into his sarcastic teasing, and pulled me into his arms. "So I guess I can assume that if I mounted several chopped up bikes on our living room walls, this would become a bachelor pad pretty quickly? As in, you'd be out the door?"

Realizing that he'd pulled the old 'gullible' card on his trusting wife, I said, "THAT'S RIGHT!"

Knowing deep down inside that I'd put up with an entire house full of bike studded walls if it meant that I'd get to live with this funny, energetic, loving man.

Not to mention, he's extra hot since all the exercise began. I couldn't leave that; not for all the bad decorations in the world.

7 Quick Takes Friday, #28

1. This week has been rough. For the following reasons:

2. My husband has been working long, hard days, and not getting to spend as much time with us as usual. On top of missing special time with the girls, he's just been run ragged. The upside? He has a vacation week planned soon. *relief*

3. Mia and Lauren began Preschool and Kid's Day Out this week. It's been an emotional roller coaster for me. The upside? They both had fun. *relief*

4. My mom has been out of town on a vacation to the Gulf Coast. And as attached as I am to seeing her EVERY day, I miss her terribly. It was especially hard to not have her here when I was having so much trouble handling my anxiety over Lauren's Kid's Day Out. I am SUCH a mama's girl. The upside? She'll be home tomorrow. *relief*

5. I feel like my creativity (while stunted to begin with) has been sapped by this week with no end. I'm starting to feel like my funny, light posts are being overtaken by heavy, boring posts about my worries that you all are just politely enduring. The upside? The week is over! I can start fresh with some silly stories which won't leave me (or you) feeling blue after the editing is done. *relief*

6. Nearly every time we've fed the cat this week, we hear a scuffle and some tremendous chomping noises soon after. We look out the back door and are greeted with this sight:

An entire family of Raccoons stealing our cat food. The upside? They don't hang around for more than the time it takes to polish off the food and wash their little hands in the water bowl. They skedaddle and are not seen again until the next evening. *relief*

7. This has happened twice:

Every single stuffed toy in our house, along with some blankies and babies, was piled onto our queen sized bed. Causing untold hours of mess and cleanup time.

The upside? It was fun. The further upside? And I am now so convinced of our overabundance of stuffed animals, that we needn't EVER purchase another one again. Ever. *relief*

Spice up your Friday by checking out more Quick Takes at Conversion Diary, and enjoy your weekend! I plan to; hubby's off work, my mom's coming home, my kids will be in my arms, I'm taking a few days off from blogville, and...maybe the raccoons will migrate north?

A Separation, A Detachment.

She wakes up early, chanting Moooomeeeey, Moooomeeeey from her darkened bedroom. My insides already are working themselves into knots over what's to come:

A separation. A detachment after months of dependence.

I gather her warm, sleepy body into my arms and snuggle silently while we both take what we need of the other - she calmly nurses while I memorize her round cheek and wispy hair; her blue eyes only for me.

As we go about our morning, getting ready for her first day away, I would swear she's behaving as if she knows I'm abandoning her to the care of others. She doesn't chatter quite as extensively, she purses her mouth into that shy smile. The one that says, you are doing a fine job of pleasing me - only keep trying and you'll be rewarded with a perfect grin. She toddles around warily, clutching her blankie to her chest, and I'm suddenly terrified of causing her to feel fear.

Her sister wakes up unreservedly cheerful; prepared to take on the day. I watch as the older daughter's excitement infects the younger daughter, and remember how much fun there is to be had in life. We are ready now.

We go.

I am overcome with a feeling of leading a lamb to the slaughter. So irrational, and yet so firmly felt. I do not believe that today will go well. I believe, instead, that it will go so badly that I will have reason enough to withdraw from the program, to try again in another semester.

As we enter the room she will be staying in, she wraps her wary self around and through me, clinging to my well known solidity. Shutting out the unknown space and people around us. I speak to the teachers again, explaining her blankie. Her lambie. Her shyness. They understand; this is their life: walking babies through this transition.

I play with my child. I help her settle in, hoping - praying - for her to enjoy this time, rather than fear it. But not being able to trust in that hope. Because if I cannot approach this experience without fear, how can I expect my child to?

The time comes that she is engaged in some exciting new object. I know this is my moment to go. I do not sneak away, no. She must know that I've not disappeared. She must hear me say that I'll be back soon. In the pit of my belly, the knots are tightening, expecting to be torn apart by her confused expression - her wobbling chin.

I bend down one last time and quickly brush a kiss past her temple, into the place where her warmth and baby-scent are the most strongly concentrated; I will not go without taking this last necessary action. Selfish, yes, expecting to be comforted by breathing her in, and knowing that she will not have the same opportunity. But necessary nonetheless.

I tell her goodbye. I tell her I'll be back very soon. I start to walk away. Everything in me is desperate for a longer goodbye - more snuggling, more holding, more. But I know that will only make it worse.

So I leave.

Expecting the worst. Yet not altogether displeased by that, because I know I will have been granted the excuse I wish for to remove her from the class. My feelings will have been justified by her helplessness. Selfish, again. My fatal flaw.

I peek into the window as I go, to observe her reaction: she is playing. She is looking around, noticing I am no longer with her. She moves onto another toy. She studies a crying playmate. She cradles her blankie, and I wait for the inevitable -

But it never comes.

She is happy. She plays.

Unexpected.

But perfect. I find myself to be lighter. I float away, wondering at her strength, wondering at her adaptability. Two traits that have not been present in myself on this occasion.

She is happy.

I am happy.

My Internal Struggle, Made External For Your Viewing Pleasure

Tomorrow is a big day, twofold.

1) Mia starts preschool.
2) Lauren starts Kid's Day Out.

Mia and I are both very excited for her to be starting real, live preschool. She's outgoing and confident - bordering on bossy at times - so I think she'll have a wonderful year. And it's not all that large of a step from her being in the Kid's Day Out program from last year. Preschool will include one extra morning a week, and quite a bit more teaching, but I doubt she'll notice a difference. She's ready.

Lauren, though, will be starting an entirely new experience. And if I'm being completely honest here - I'm not happy about it.

Kid's Day Out is a two morning a week program where children from 1 year to preschool age can come and...um...play. Learn to be away from their parents on a very limited basis, and play with other kids their age at appropriate activities while not being in much of a day-care environment. I've always looked at it as a bi-weekly play-date, with teachers instead of parents. It was great for Mia, because we never really had any other kids for her to play with. I gained time for OB appointments and time for resting my pregnant body, so it seemed a beneficial place for her to be. She started when she was almost 2 years old, and at that age it wasn't easy for her to transition into being away from me for the 3 hours twice a week. She cried. I cried. But it got better, and she soon loved it.

If it was hard with Mia - independent, non-snuggling toddler that she was - I am not looking forward to how Lauren will handle it - clinging, sensitive, mama's-girl that she is. Also, Lauren is only 16 months old - quite a bit younger than Mia was. But even knowing how hard it will be on her, that's not my main reason for second guessing our decision to enroll Lauren.

Mainly, I feel guilty. I'm a stay at home mom. I don't have any logical reason for handing over my two children to the care of others. Preschool, sure. That's fairly normal - not required, but normal. I can justify it. Kid's Day Out? Not so much. So I have this ugly wad of guilt festering away in my soul. It feels like selfishness to send Lauren to the program, instead of keep her home with me, at least for a little longer.

I can really come up with no good reason for sending her. I think I've been convinced by family and friends that this is the next logical step for Lauren, and that I'd love sending her because I'd gain so much free time every week while she'd gain so much from the society of other kids. And knowing that I've been 'talked-into' doing something I'd rather not do makes me feel queasy.

So, I don't expect tomorrow to be a good day for Lauren or I, emotionally. I may just throw in the towel and risk the ridicule of others for pulling her out of such a fun program. We could wait a semester and see if we think she's ready, then.

There - now I've convinced myself. Tomorrow will be a test run, and we'll see where to go from there. If it goes better than I've imagined, we'll keep her in. If it goes worse...

Wish us luck?

Coconut Chicken As Coersion

Justin had been staying a little later at work this past week because the other lady in his office is on vacation and he's been extra busy. I'm generally supportive of him needing to take care of business so I don't worry if he's later than usual, but one day I was emotional or needy or what-have-you and I found myself on the phone cajoling him into leaving the office earlier so I could sniff his neck and feel better. (What? Neck sniffing is a legitimate stress reliever. Go try it and you'll see what I mean.) (Well, I guess this does depend on whose neck is handy...)

Or, I TRIED to cajole him. This was the same conversation during which The Pumpkin Comment arose. I begged. I promised rewards. I flirted - which probably just came off as hilarious.

He was steadfast. He had things to get done, and nothing was going to budge him from his work.

But then, an idea came to me."Hey babe...you know how you've been begging me to make coconut chicken again? Well, if you leave the office by 4:15, I PROMISE I'll make it for dinner tomorrow night - even though we already had it once this week." I try really hard not to repeat the same meals more than once a month or so, and he LOVED this new recipe - I was sure he'd cave.

The phone line was silent for a moment. Just as I was congratulating myself on my skill as a negotiator, he said, "That does sound good, but I can't promise anything. If I have to wait to have coconut chicken again...I can wait. I've GOT to get this stuff done." Such a reasonable, mature response. Puh.

I counted my cause as lost; 4:10 came and went, and I had given up the ghost of hope. Justin was not going to be home early, and that would just have to be OK...I could be mature and reasonable too.

At 4:14, the phone rang. "Hello?" I said, hoping it wasn't a telemarketer.


A handsome, deep voice on the other end said, "I hope you like coconut chicken as much as I do, because I'm on my way home."

I promise, I didn't jump up and down and giggle like a school girl. That couldn't have been me, right? Mature, reasonable me?

Except, it totally was me. Deliriously happy for my husband to be on his way home from a normal day of work.

And he was deliriously happy that he got to have his new favorite meal again post haste. I don't have any pictures, because a) I was salivating too much to hold a camera anywhere near myself, and b) I'm not a good food photographer.

What I DO have for you, though, is the recipe for Coconut Chicken straight from Alice at Savory Sweet Life. She has really nice step by step photos on her site, if you'd like more detail. Use it as you see fit for encouraging, coercing, or pleasing your family - Enjoy!


Coconut Chicken, by SavorySweetLife

2 lbs. chicken tenders (I used breasts cut into more nugget-like shapes)
1 1/2 cups panko bread crumbs
1 cup shredded sweetened coconut (I pulsed it in the food processor first for a finer coating)
1 egg
1/2 can of sweetened condensed milk
1/2 cup of orange juice (I only had lemonade and it worked fine)
salt and pepper to taste
peanut oil for frying (This was my first experience with peanut oil, and it was BEAUTIFUL. Seriously. I'm usually jumping around the stove trying to dodge popping oil, but not this time! Peanut Oil + Sarah's Heavenly Kitchen = True Love.)

Season chicken with salt and pepper on both sides. Set aside. In a medium bowl, mix orange juice, condensed milk, and a beaten egg until your “wet” mixture is well incorporated. In another bowl, mix coconut and panko crumbs.

Heat peanut oil in a medium pan or skillet on medium-high heat. Fill pan to about 1/2″ of oil. Dip and fully coat each tender in the egg mixture first and then the panko/coconut mix. Fry each tender for 6-8 minutes until golden brown.

Sunday Snippets

Me: *dancing with wild abandon to the Veggie Tales theme song*

Mia: *smiling* I....think you shouldn't dance, mama.

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

Mia: Hey Dad, could we please go do the moving steps at the mall? PLEEEEASE?!

Justin: Hold on kiddo, I haven't decided yet.

Mia: But I just asked nicely!

Justin: I know you did - that was great! But I still don't know yet.

30 Seconds later...

Mia: Hey Mom, Dad doesn't know if we can DO the moving steps! Can we?

Me: He and I need to talk about it before we decide, just wait a minute.

Mia: *Running back to Justin* Hey Dad, COULD YOU PLEASE SAY YES?!

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

*Justin and I are having a serious conversation, and we keep forgetting that these may need to be had away from little ears.*

Him: I can't stand this. Just take a pregnancy test so we'll know.

Me: Babe, I KNOW. I'm not pregnant - and I don't want to waste a test. Don't worry about it!

Mia: Dad, I'm NOT pregnant.

Him: ..... *crossing himself*

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

Me: *proudly* Did you notice how clean the kitchen is?

Justin: Oh, yeah - I thought it looked different.

7 Quick Takes Friday, #27

1. Please don't be mad at me for what I'm about to admit: I'm SKINNY.

It's true. All my life, I've wished, hoped, prayed for curves where none were forthcoming. Well, some curves eventually appeared - I do have scoliosis, but a curvature of the spine isn't what I'd been dreaming of when I imagined the body I'd most like to have. Anyway, my point here is that my weight isn't generally an issue, unless I'm bemoaning my prominent ribcage and knobby-knees. My body has definitely changed after having two kids, but what stubbornly remains is my gangly self.

Nevertheless, for some reason I had this conversation with my husband this week while trying to convince him to come home early from work:

Me: Pretty, pretty please?

Him: Sorry babe, I've just got to get this stuff done. I wish I could, really I do.

Me: Well can you at least come home before I turn into a pumpkin?

Him: (laughing) You ARE a pumpkin.

Me: YOU THINK I'M FAT!?!

Him: Wha?! NO! I just meant...you know...like a term of endearment? Haha. Like - hey pumpkin, what's for dinner? Oh, come on, you know that's not what I meant...I was just....*sigh*

Sometimes I like to keep him on his toes. Make sure his mind stays nimble.

2. I have a gardening question I'm hoping someone may know the answer to. Why do some of my tomatoes ripen before they're fully grown? Why are some of them turning bright red when they're only the size of a dime, while others grow to full size before ripening? Is there anything I'm doing wrong to cause this? Is it weather related? Or just the luck of the draw?

3. Last week I told you about how desperate I was for a haircut, and YES! I got one! I was asked to post a picture, and I decided that since I'm no good at exhibitionism, I put one on the iddy-bitty thumbnail in my 'About Me' section in the sidebar. So now my hair is short, hallelujah, and you get to see a tiny me posing for a self -portrait, hallelu-yikes.

4. I wrote a post on Wednesday that was pretty far outside of my normal silly stories. It was emotional and heartfelt and I debated even posting it for other people to read. I felt very bare and open by putting myself down in the written word - but it felt good too. Putting words to my emotions was helpful. I guess when I'm having these...feelings...they come pouring out of me and I have no way of knowing if others will understand a word of what I'm saying.

Kind of like now. I'm rambling on and on about nothing and hoping you understand.

Hello?

5. Mia hardly ever watches Sesame Street anymore, so I was surprised to see her soaking it all up the other day, particularly the Word of the Day segment. Jessica Alba was defining Scrumptious, and Mia was paying terribly close attention. I expected to hear her use this new word soon, and I wasn't disappointed.

At dinner she looked at me and said, "This dinner is delicious, mom! It's....it....uhhh....it's de-scrumptious!"

Her execution was slightly off, but at least the sentiment was correct.

6. I can't believe Lauren is big enough to try this:

7. I just finished re-reading The Time Traveler's Wife. I figured that since I'm hoping to go see the movie sometime soon, I'd better read it again to prepare myself. I read it several years ago (maybe 5?) and it's been collecting dust on my bookshelf because I wanted to give myself time to forget some of it. I loved it so much - and since you only get to read a book for the first time once, I tried to buck the system and get a second first time.

And I am SO glad I did. It was beautiful - again. Really an amazingly written story. I'd forgotten enough of the details to be captivated but remembered enough of the plot to not keep myself up all hours to see what happens next.

You should read it. Be warned, though, it takes some concentration, what with all the time traveling. And there is alot of, um, flowery language that some may take offense to. But really, truly, and seriously - you should read it. It still stands near the top of my favorite books list.

I'll be letting it collect dust for another 5 years or so in order to pave the way for my third first-time experience. And I'm excited already.

Stop by Conversion Diary for more Quick Takes and have a fabulous weekend!

Life's Like An Hourglass Glued To The Table*

While sorting through some piles of junk today, I came across a pair of mini bows - the kind hospitals glue to a newborn baby girl's head. These bows were the palest pink, and still had a bit of residue left from being stuck to one of my daughters.

Mia. She had the pink bows. Lauren got green. For Jade. Her middle name. I stop my organizing and stare off in the distance. Remembering. And suddenly-

Time is running away from me.

I can hear it. I can almost feel the air being displaced as time speeds past me.

I turn my head to catch a glimpse of now, but it's too late - now has vanished. And in its wake, I can no longer smell or see or touch the things that make me feel whole. My baby's scalp is now covered with hair; her scent changes. My bigger girl's voice grows more confident; her sound changes.

Never before have I so desperately wished for a mythical jar to capture a tiny bit of time within its confines. But even more terrifying is that the time behind us will only be compounded - the pile of moments-past deepens while I'm not paying attention. I don't want to lose the moments that are hidden at the bottom of the pile.

How do people do this gracefully?

My children are only 1 and 3 years old. How do I face the years ahead without being swallowed up with sadness over losing the years that have already happened?

Then - I am snatched away from my thoughts.

The girls are giggling at the kitchen table, making memories while I was busy lamenting the loss of a future that hasn't even happened yet. I turn to them and smile at their beauty and innocence. I bask in their light.

And I think this is how.

Just go be within their moments. Sniff their heads and listen to their lilting voices, even as those anchors of certainty are changing.

I put the pink bows back where I found them, knowing that I will run across them again soon; my daughters are here, now.

So must I be.



*The chorus of this song (Breathe [2 AM], by Anna Nalick) pops into my head several times a week, even when I'm not feeling the weight of time on my shoulders. It's like my subconscious wants to remind me to open my eyes - a reminder I am grateful for. Breathe...Just Breathe.

Perfectly Poetical Tuesday (Haiku)

Thanks to Stephanie at The Little Stuff of Life for hosting this fun poetry carnival! You all should participate too - I'd love to read your poems. If I can crank one of these babies out, anyone can; I am extremely under-talented in the poetry department. As in I know how to rhyme two words together, and isn't that the definition of a poem?

No? Shoot. Well, it'll be fun to do anyway, and that's all I ask out of life.

This month's style is Haiku (following a 5-7-5 rhythm of syllables) (no RHYMING?), and I'm about to lay it on ya.

Are you ready?

Ahem...



Her constant questions
leave me breathless with answers;
the cycle repeats.



Oooh - so deep, I know. Haiku makes me feel philosophical. Or something.

Check out the other Haiku submissions and write your own soon!

Where Dirty Equals Cherished

When I was little I had a very special blankie that went everywhere with me. And really, I shouldn't say 'little' because I slept with the stupid thing until junior high when I abandoned it to attempt coolness. (A status that was never achieved, by the way.) And really, I shouldn't say 'abandoned' because I just stashed it in my closet in case I needed a quick blankie fix on a really bad 8th grade day. And really I shouldn't say 'a bad day' when all the years between 6th and 9th grades were miserable.

But, nevertheless, there was this blankie that made me feel safe and happy no matter what circumstances came my way.

So it's come as no surprise to me that both of my daughters have attached themselves to lovey blankies. I'd find it more surprising, I think, if they hadn't. I'd wonder how they could survive without something to cling to.

In Lauren's case, she has two somethings: purple blankie, and lambie. (I posted this picture on last week's Quick Takes also - it perfectly shows her possessive clutch of loveys.)

Purple blankie was her swaddle blanket from infancy, and lambie - a small stuffed lamb - she got as a gift on her 1st birthday. When she sees one of these items, she hauls it to her face for a deep sniff, and then sets off in search of the other one, yelling out the name of her desire along the way. "Maaaameee?" she calls out when lambie has gone missing, her voice just this side of panic. "Bain-pee, Bain-pee!," she whimpers when purple blankie is the one she seeks.

Wherever we go, it is certain that we will have both of Lauren's loveys with us - in case of injury, boredom, or sleepiness. It used to be the same way with Mia, but now she's happy to leave her blankie in the car if we go into a store. Just knowing it's there waiting for her makes her happy, and she's talked about not wanting to lose her blankie in the store for someone else to take home with them. I don't point out that Mia's blankie has a face only a mother could love; it's beginning to be quite the tattered and stained mess and I'm pretty sure nobody would willingly take it home with them. I am overjoyed that we are able to leave it in the car when we go places so it's humble facade won't be seen by the general public.

Lauren's loveys, on the other hand, are never spared from public view. The blankie, I don't mind so much because it stays relatively clean - we have a couple of years before it acquires the stains that are a trademark for toddler blankies. Plus, (hush, hush) we have a spare. We rotate between the two blankies so they'll hopefully last longer. But the lambie is white and cream. She seeks out saliva and snot and strawberry juice. She mops up spills, tears, and sweat. Oh the shame lambie must feel when she's carted around the grocery store in all her dirty glory. I've reminded myself to wash lambie so many times, but since Lauren can't bear to be parted with her, I never seem to get the job done.

Several days ago, we brought lambie and purple blankie with us to Target. All was going well until Lauren, in typical toddler fashion, began tossing lambie to the ground for fun. Over and over, I picked lambie up and returned her to her owner, only to see her fly past me again as soon as my back was turned. Being a very strict disciplinarian, I of course told her not to throw lambie again or I'd take her away for good. Being a very playful 16 month old, Lauren of course chucked lambie over the edge immediately. I picked up the grubby lambie and tucked her away under Lauren's seat in the cart, out of sight. Game over.

Thankfully, Lauren was distracted at that moment and didn't start screaming. I TOTALLY would have held my ground anyway, but BOY was I glad she didn't make it difficult.

Or, I TOTALLY would have caved, because BOY I hate having attention drawn to me and my red cheeks. (See earlier statement about not achieving coolness. The cool girls have faces that don't explode into flames at a sideways glance.) (Oh, and they're probably cheerleaders, too. Strike two.)

We went on about our shopping business and left the store. We stopped for lunch with my sister-in-law and niece on the way home, and called it a day.

I carried a sleepy Lauren into the house and started getting the girls ready for naptime: stories read, potty breaks and diaper changes, loveys in hand.

Except, one lovey was missing. It all crashed into my memory at once. Lambie...in the bottom of the shopping cart...at Target...across town...at naptime.

DEAR LORD.

It couldn't be helped, Lauren would have to sleep without lambie. To my delight, in her sleepy state she never noticed anything was amiss. I called Target as soon as I could to make sure they had a small stuffed lamb in lost and found - "It's, um, sort of whitish, uh, greyish brown in places." They'd found her, thank goodness. I promised we'd be back soon to retrieve lambie, cringing at what the customer service desk must think about the family who owned such a dirty toy. I could just imagine a well-groomed Target employee holding lambie by the ear, with a finger and a thumb, so as to preserve their skin from coming into unnecessary contact with her filthy fur.

When we walked up to the customer service desk later that afternoon, a young girl smiled as she handed lambie to a deliriously happy Lauren. I thanked her and turned to Lauren, saying "Let's get home and WASH that lambie." I wanted the girl to know that we are a clean family. And I'm sure my overly dramatic stage voice conveyed that rather than how pathetic I am when it comes to other people's opinions.

And actually, I did wash lambie. I was pleasantly surprised to see that she has pale pink feet and ears.

Who knew?

The Single Acceptable 98* Activity

Submerge your person as far as possible into a large body of cool water. The water should be cool enough that you feel the need to squeak and squeal momentarily, before realizing the pleasure of its refreshment and easing into it with an audible sigh.

When your body temperature is no longer close to the boiling point, feel free to frolic about. Let the hot blowing breezes warm your exposed skin as needed.

Occasionally, you may wish to climb completely out of the water in order to re-anticipate its cooling relief.

Passers-by may be open to the idea of a small bit of exercise; all you will need to worry about is how to recruit their assistance in entertaining you.

But once you show them the full value of their efforts, vis-a-vis, your own screams of delight, your assistant will surely acquiesce to doing your will for the duration of your adventure.

You must be sure to cause as much splashing as possible; exact amounts will be determined by your placement among shady or sunny locations in the body of water. The sunnier your location, the more water you must attempt to displace onto your immediate neighbors.

However much your co-swimmers may try to deny their enjoyment in your vigorous splashing, you must continue. Because you can be assured that eventually, they will crumble under your positive attitude, and enjoy your watery carousing right along with you.

However willing your assistants have become, you must be sure to thank them for their efforts. The most effective manner of communicating your thanks is a simple but heartfelt gesture: beg for repeat performances.

In this way they will be able to know how utterly refreshing and enjoyable your water-play has been. And they will be unable to resist your charms when you beg for an encore because while you have been the one laughing and shouting with glee, they have been reaping the benefits of that glee.

Namely, they've been able to cool down on an otherwise unbearably hot afternoon.

So really, YOU were assisting them. Congratulate yourself for accomplishing such a selfless good deed.

7 Quick Takes Friday, #26

1. Several weeks ago in one of my quick takes, I mentioned that I needed to schedule a haircut - but I was enjoying my newly long-enough-for-a-ponytail hair too much to ruin it with a cut. Well, that feeling of pleasure in pulling my hair back has dissipated and turned into an ugly feeling resembling hatred towards this terrible hair. By the time I admitted how badly I needed to get it cut, my normal stylist was on vacation. The NERVE!

So I had to wait.

When she returned and I finally got an appointment scheduled, I called around to find a babysitter - with absolutely zero luck. I tried all different angles, even trying for later times so my mother in-law could come after she gets off work, but if I'd rescheduled, the closest appointment I could get would have been in two more weeks. TWO. WEEKS. I couldn't picture myself living through that amount of time when I'm already so ready to chop off the locks. I was sure I'd take the scissors to my own hair during the wait.

I was beginning to lose hope. I started wallowing in self-pity, wondering why I hadn't been smart enough to schedule a doable appointment time weeks ago rather than waiting until I'm cross-eyed with need of a haircut.

Then, a straw landed gently on my strained, self-pitying back: My husband came home late on Wednesday night. Why? HE GOT A HAIRCUT. I almost cried at the unfairness of it all.

Thankfully, my aunt offered to watch the girls while she works in the church office this morning. I'm going to get my unruly hair cut right after I publish this post. Keep your fingers crossed that nothing gets in my way - I can't be held accountable for my actions if I have to endure this hair much longer.

2. Earlier this week (the Wednesday night I mentioned above), I sat down after dinner to type up the details of a post while it was fresh in my head. Justin was eating his dinner late, and the girls went off to play. We got into a discussion (probably about why the universe had conspired against me to keep me and my haircut separated from each other) at the table by ourselves while I was on the computer, and weren't paying much attention to the silence in the background. Silence is never good around here.

We were awarded with this giganto mess for our momentary lapse of attention.

3. One of my posts this week was about not being able to come up with ideas for activities we could do to keep us busy for the rest of summer. (I got some wonderful suggestions and tips - but I'd LOVE to have more!) Noting the amount of toys on the floor in that room, I'm wondering how on earth I could ever think they'd need something to DO. Cleaning up counts as an activity, right?

4. (This photo has nothing to do with the following story, I just thought it was representative of her sassiness, and wanted to make sure I had a picture of her in my Quick Takes.)

While Justin was putting Mia to bed the other night, she started whining for a Kleenex. He brought her one and was about to help her blow her nose, when she stopped him.

"Wait!" she said with a finger buried up her nostril, "let me pick this booger out of there first."

Somehow, Justin maintained his composure during this exchange. I'm sure I would have choked myself with laughter at her incongruous logic.

5. When I tried to snap some pictures of Lauren yesterday, she started doing a new camera face. This is her interpretation of 'SMILE!'

Oh, this sweet girl. She and I have been having more one-on-one time this week since Mia's been napping longer from being sick. I've gotten to snuggle and play only with LJ for at least an hour every afternoon.

She is growing into such an interesting toddler. Always dancing. Always hugging. Always lovey-dovey...

6. Always talking. I am becoming more and more impressed with Lauren's growing language. She talks so much more than I thought 16 month old's were supposed to - stringing words into phrases already. "Mama, shower?" she asks when I walk into the bathroom. "Sissy, drink!" she demands when she sees Mia's princess cup.

My favorite new phrase of hers is when she tells me 'bless you' after a sneeze. Only, she doesn't know it's only supposed to be used on sneezes, so she's been saying it after I cough. "Bayh-shoooo!" she yells after every cough. She looks so pleased with herself when she says it. Probably because I shower her with affection each time.

7. At the library this week, I checked out my first library DVD: The Business of Being Born. I'm so excited to watch this. I have a feeling it will be like preaching to the choir, but maybe that's why I'm so excited to see it - we always like to have our own feelings validated, right? My thoughts about childbirth are pretty passionate towards the 'natural' camp - and I can't wait to see some statistics and facts about the disparity between medicalized birth and natural birth in America. Have any of you seen this documentary yet? If so, what did you think?

Thank you for visiting my rambling Quick Takes! Click over to Conversion Diary, where Jen's got a list of many more links to many more Quick Takes. Have a beautiful weekend!

Charming Dinner Conversation

Justin stopped after work tonight to get a haircut, getting himself home right at the end of dinner.

He and I got to talking about the girl who cuts his hair, and I asked whether or not she was married. Isn't this the most pressing question we all want to know about the young, stylish girl that plays with our husband's hair? From there, Mia involved herself in the conversation as well.

"Are YOU married, mama?" she asked.

"Yep," I answered, "I'm married to your daddy. You knew that, right?"

"Well, are you gonna get married again?" I think Mia has the idea that weddings involve princesses. This would be the ultimate cool thing - seeing her mom as a princess? Awesome.

However, we only have pictures to go on, and that will have to be enough.

"Nope," I continued, "I only get to get married once. Your dad is my husband forever."

She thought about this for awhile before asking, "When I was in your belly, were you already married?"

Wondering about her thought processes, I smiled while answering yes.

The conversation just kept getting more and more interesting. With her eyes glazed over, imagining her pre-born history, she said, "Did I see anything when I was in your belly?"

"No, not really sweetie, it was probably pretty dark in there."

"Did I cry?" she asked with a slight grin. For some (hopefully short lived) reason, Mia is fascinated with sadness, crying, or pain.

"I don't think so," I explained, "you were probably pretty comfortable all snuggled up in my belly."

"But where did I lay my head?"

"Well, you laid it all over the place. You were always squirming around and moving into different places. But then towards the end, your head was stuck right up here under my ribs." I patted my upper-left abdomen and remembered the moment the Doctor told me she was breech and I'd need a c-section. How disappointed I was that I wouldn't get to have the natural birth I'd planned. I started to feel nostalgic, remembering the days and moments leading up to Mia's birth.

Then she shattered my thoughtful moment with her next statement:

"And then I RIPPED out through your pants and got outta there! I got born, right?"

I've never discussed the miracle of life with her before, so to say I was surprised is an understatement. Did she just logically guess about how a baby gets out of a tummy? Had she heard someone else talking about it?

Either way, my surprise was trumped by my laughter. The mental image of a baby ripping out through the seat of my pants is now embedded in my mind's eye.

And that may be enough to snap even the sappiest of saps right out of their nostalgic memories.

Sum-Sum-Summertime Slump

I keep trying to make some part of our days this week into an entertaining story - into something that I feel is worthy of sharing. But I guess the truth of life is just that sometimes there's nothing going on. We've gone through our days as usual, only nothing has been much, well - fun. Mostly, I've been tending to my sinuses and all the throbbing, draining, mouth-breathing characteristics that make summertime colds so awful.

Even better is that Mia and Lauren both seem to have caught my cold. It's like we've reached the end of our summertime energy. And really, admitting that feels like a failure on my part. It's my job to come up with fun activities for the kids to do (to some extent - heaven knows I'm all for free-play), and when I don't feel up to it - like this week - we just wander around with no clear direction. I keep telling myself to hop online and search for a few toddler/preschooler activities that will help us get through this late-summer slump. But then my face is throbbing again, and all I can manage to do is read a few stories to the girls on my lap. And then turn on a Curious George video.

I'm hoping for an end to the sinus-malaise that has overtaken me, and for a joyous, idea-filled outlook to take it's place.

Boy, snot really has a way of exhausting all your stores of optimism, huh?

So I would love to have your help, dear friends. What are some of your favorite at-home fun activities? Or places to look for such activities? I'm not terribly creative in the best of times, so now it feels impossible to come up with any ideas on my own.

Hopefully, I'll be back SOON with a good old fashioned embarrassing story or a glimpse into our heavenly life. Until then, I leave you (and me) with this reminder that life is fun, even when it's mundane:

Sunday Snippets

In the car as we're leaving our neighborhood, we stop to let a car pass.

Mia: Where were they going?

Me: Those were our neighbors. I think they're going back to their house.

Mia: Why were they going there?

Me: I'm not sure, babe. Why do YOU think they were going home?

Mia: Uhhh, I think they needed to go poo-poo over there.

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

In the car (again), Mia is playing with her toy cell phone.

Mia: Hold on, guys - I need to make a phone call. Hello? Ooohhhh, HI! How do you doing?! tee-hee-hee Well, I'm pretty good. Uhhh...do you have your own island? Oh! *giggle* Are you...um....powerful? Oh, I see! Well, I better stop making a phone call now. I love you - buhbye.

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

At bedtime, Mia is stalling - trying to keep me talking instead of shutting her door.

Me: Goodnight Mia. Be very quiet now, and sleep tight. I love you. *halfway out the door*

Mia: MAMA MAMA MAMAAAAAA....I just have to ask one question. Do you know that the six o'clock and the seven o'clock are in the morning and in the nighttime aaaaand...you have to wake up but not before the seven o'clock is on the clock? In the morning, right?

Me: *baffled* That's right - Goodnight baby. *2/3 out the door*

Mia: MAMA MAMA MAMAAAAAA...I just have to tell you one thing. Do you know I love you very much and that I need two...uhhh...I need...ummm....did you know I need two...drinks? Can I have two more drinks?

I hope your weekend has been a perfect combination of sweet and sassy - heavy on the sweet. Enjoy the start of your August!