Are You Still Smoking, Mamacita?

Even though it's harder and harder to be a smoker these days with all the non-smoking restaurants and bars across the nation, some of you mommas still gotta have one.  Or do you?  Stop the madness! Quit smoking.


Created by: www.OnlineNursingPrograms.com

Holy Competition, Batman!

"I want the right seat!" And the race begins.  My two sons scramble their little feet to the car shoving and climbing to get to the right seat first.  The right seat. The glorious right seat.

This declaration made by Luke a few months ago, that the "right seat" was indeed the best seat in the car, became a subtle relief to me.  What's that you say? No more fighting with the kids to get them to the car?  All I have to say as we're leaving the house now?

"Whoever gets to the car first gets the right seat!" I shout out, keys in hand. I've never seen two kids get dressed and out the door so fast! 

Oh, but yes, it gets better...

"Whoever eats ALL their green beans first will be the strongest and the tallest brother!"  And their greens are gone!

"Let's see who can pick up all the toys the fastest!"  And our living room is clean!

They're even competing for our attention now.  If Zealand trips over the dog and hurts his elbow, Luke follows behind him crying out, "I just tripped over Yukon too and hurt my elbow too! Kiss me too!"

And aren't I the luckiest mommy in the world...when one son picks me a flower, my other son rushes to pick two.


Competition...I think I love you!

Read This ONLY If You Are A Mom Who Enjoys Wine!

Thank you so much for all the videos you sent in!  Now, we need your photos! 

If you have any pictures-or videos- of your children driving you crazy, throwing a fit, or even being sweet, etc. - we'd like to add those to our video montage!  Please send them by 9/7 to leah.speer@gmail.com. Thanks!!

You love to drink wine.

You are a mom.

You long for just a moment of relaxation and maybe a little fun.

WE NEED YOUR HELP!

Inspire other moms to kick back, pour a glass of wine and ESCAPE!

“How?” you ask.

Just get a 5 second to 30 second video (SO EASY WITH THAT iPHONE OF YOURS!) of yourself enjoying your favorite go-to after a long day. Whether it’s that tall glass of red or refreshing glass of white. Girls’ night out, book club, bunko (have all the girls in one shot smiling and having a FAB time) or just you and the hubs on the back patio (he’ll gladly take a quickie of you with his phone, Miss Hot Thang!). Just you and your snuggie and The Real Housewives of New York City? No problem! Flip your iPad around and get a snapshot of yourself caressing that glass of vino!

The team here at Must.Have.Wine. are producing a video montage (set to the Black Eyed Peas song “I Gotta Feeling”) that we are going to post on YouTubeand send to every online Mom Magazine we can reach. Obviously, our hope is that it’ll go viral and thus send millions of people to our website (it’s being redesigned as you read this) so that millions and millions will buy our book Must.Have.Wine. when it is published in mid-October.

Send your videos or snapshots to Leah at leah.speer@gmail.com or post in on our Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/MustHaveWine/245052782182520?ref=hl

Just think, if it does go viral and they decide to show the clip on The Today Show, you can tell all your friends and family to look for you, you superstar!

DEADLINE TO BE A PART OF THIS EXTRAORDINARY EXPERIENCE September 7, 2012.

p.s. Extra bonus points if you are singing along to a part of the Black Eyed Peas song in your video!

"Me" Time - Right From The Start!

I'm not talking about a feeding schedule or sleep.

I'm talking about getting yourself some free time. Some alone time. Some me time.

Having your first baby is new for both you and your spouse. Adjustments need to be made. Here's my thought.  That very first Saturday after you bring baby home (unless you bring your baby home on Friday, maybe you should shoot for that 2nd Saturday), take the afternoon off.  Even if you have to pump out some milk for a feeding, get out by yourself. Hubby is going to need the one-on-one hands-on experience anyway, why not now?

The next Saturday, let your man go play golf guilt-free.

The following Saturday, it's your turn.  Go see a movie with your girlfriends.

You get the pattern?  If life as a parent starts off like this, then it's the norm.  OF COURSE, mom gets time for herself will just be how it is in your house.  Once your baby can be away from you longer, take more than the afternoon off.  And every other week you know it's your day.  Then you can go ahead and plan ahead for drinks with the ladies and your husband can do the same-no, not drinks with the ladies, but probably more golf.

If you're not a new mom and this plan sounds great to you, start it now! How can it be wrong if both mom and dad get time out.  Then he can't roll his eyes at you because you want a break - he just had his!  And maybe his idea of time off is laying on the couch all day watching golf.  Then that just means you take your kiddos to the park for a long afternoon and maybe a picnic.

They say it's about give and take.  So give him his and take yours and relax already!  ~ Leah

The Anti-Chicken Fingers Movement - Chicken Korma

My friend Emily Bennington introduced this dish to my husband (bf at the time) and I at a dinner party at her home about 8 years ago.  It's a northern Indian dish and the blend of spices and the creaminess from the yogurt make this such an enjoyable meal!  And if you've seen most of my recipes, you'll know that this dish wouldn't be complete without mango chutney!  There are many ingredients, but once you buy most of them, you'll be able to make this recipe at your leisure later on.  Serve with brown rice and fresh baked naan.

Mmm-to-the-yeah!

Chicken Korma 


1/4 cup cashew halves
1/4 cup boiling water
3 cloves garlic, peeled
1 (1/2 inch) piece fresh ginger
root, peeled and chopped
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 bay leaves, crumbled
1 large onion, minced
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon garam masala 1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground turmeric
1 teaspoon chili powder
3 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves - diced
1/4 cup tomato sauce
1 cup chicken broth
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup plain yogurt
1 teaspoon cornstarch, mixed with equal parts water
2 T mango chutney  (ha ha ha!  I'd use more!)
1 t cayenne
½ t red pepper flakes
1 t cinnamon

DIRECTIONS:
1. Place cashews in a small bowl, and pour the boiling water over nuts. Set aside for 15 to 20 minutes. Place garlic and ginger in food processor and blend until smooth; set aside.
2. Heat oil in wok over medium heat. Cook the bay leaves in hot oil for 30 seconds. Stir in onion, and cook until soft, about 3 to 5 minutes. Mix in garlic/ginger paste, and season with coriander, garam masala, cumin, turmeric, and chili powder. Stir in chicken, and cook for about 5 minutes. Pour in tomato sauce and chicken broth. Cover, reduce heat, and simmer for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.
3. Meanwhile, place the cashews, along with the water in which they were soaked, and the cream and yogurt into food processor. Process until smooth.
4. Stir the cashew mixture into the chicken and onions. Simmer for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Stir in the cornstarch mixture, and continue cooking for 1 to 2 minutes.

Buon Appetito!

Original recipe.

Do You Lie To Your Kids?

"If you don't eat all your broccoli, you won't grow big like your daddy."  Are there good lies?  Or, rather, are little white lies okay?  On The Today Show yesterday, Ann Curry talked to two parenting experts about just this.  When is it alright to lie to these future adults?  Rachel Fishman Feddersen, editorial director at Parenting.com says 85% of moms in a recent survey have told these little white lies to their children to get out of social obligations.

I am very upfront and truthful with my children.  When we passed an ambulance at the scene of a messy car crash last summer, my son asked what was going on.  I explained to him that two cars crashed and someone maybe got hurt and they were going to go to the hospital where a doctor was sure to make the person feel better.  This was my way of being very direct with him, rather than saying, "Oh everything is just dandy...everyone is fine and life is a bed of roses.  Aren't those lights pretty!"  Though my directness probably led to his obsession and fascination with ambulances and hospital over the next several months.

But I admit to stretching the truth, too.  "Because it's getting dark soon and everyone is going to go home and eat dinner and go to bed."  That's how I explain we're leaving the park.  That's kind of a lie, isn't it?  Not everyone is going home to eat dinner and go to bed.  Some kids may stay longer.  Some kids may get to go out for ice cream.  Or how about a lie versus a probability.  "Get down from there!  If you climb on that you WILL fall and hurt your head and HAVE to go to the emergency room!"  When sure, there is a chance the child will fall and a chance he will hurt his head and yet another chance he might end up in the ER...but it's not a fact.

How about with Santa Claus?  The Easter Bunny?  The Milk Fairy?  The Milk Fairy? Yes, that's a lie I told. It's a fairy I made up.  The milk fairy comes in the middle of the night to take away your sippy of milk and leaves you a really groovy big boy cup of water.  Then every night after that, you drink water from your cup.  No more sippies at night.  Or how about the endless begging and pleading to watch their favorite cartoon which you have grown to despise.  "Oh no, sweetheart, doesn't look like Dora is on right now.  Doesn't look like it's on again until tomorrow.  Let's go paint!"  When secretly it's on now and for the next two hours on every damn cartoon channel and you're willing to go to many lengths to make sure it is not to be seen.

I believe we should be raising our kids to understand honesty and be a good person.  To tell the truth because it feels good and they know they are doing the right thing.  After all, we don't want to teach them to lie which will turn into stealing which will turn into them doing drugs and probably worse.  We don't want them to end up behind bars.  But sometimes the truth is stretched to bring magic into our kids lives or to make ours a little easier in the face of an imminent tantrum.  Of course, we can't forget that these little kids are actually very smart and intuitive too and can often see through our fibs.  What are the little white lies you tell your kids to get through your day?

**If you are a mom-or a person- who has gone through life without telling even a little white lie to help you along, we'd love to hear from you.  Please show us the way!

Holiday Recipe Spectacular - Dessert - Angel Cherry Pie

For as long as I can remember, this has been my dad’s favorite dessert.  My mom, an amazing baker, has always perfected the  meringue (click here for more of her recipes).  Though I have done well with the coloring of the meringue, I cannot make it look as pretty as her work of art along the rim. 

Meringue Shell

• 3 egg whites
• 1/4 t cream of tartar
• 3/4 c sugar

Heat oven to 275 degrees. Click here for more info on making the perfect meringue. Beat egg whites until quite stiff. Gradually add cream of tartar and sugar, beating until stiff and satiny. Spread about 2/3 of meringue over bottom and sides of well-greased 8" pie plate. Drop remaining meringue in mounds along rim of plate. Bake 1 hour or until shell is light brown and crisp. Cool on rack.

Cream Cheese Filling

• 1 3oz. package cream cheese
• 3 egg yolks
• 1/4 c sugar
• 1/ 2 t vanilla
• 1 c Cool Whip
• 1 c mini-marshmallows
• 1 can cherry filling

Beat softened cheese, egg, sugar and vanilla. Fold in Cool Whip and marshmallows. Spread cherry filling on top. Refrigerate until serving.

Guilt Will Always Be There-Let Love Triumph!

“Stay at home or work.  It really doesn’t matter what you do…you’ll find a way to feel guilty about something either way. You just have to do what feels right to you and what works best for your family,” explains a very wise and dear friend of mine.  As we chat on the phone, I am staring out at the Space Needle from my luxurious, very quiet (aaah, I remember quiet) hotel room rubbing my almost-eight-months-pregnant belly. 

At the time, I wanted nothing more than to be a stay-at-home mom.  It had been my dream, even after ten years of exciting business trips and extravagant meals at the best restaurants across the country.  But there didn’t seem to be a practical way to make it work with one salary and two mortgages (we were living in Maryland and still owned our home in South Carolina).  Yet, it made me feel better simply by hearing my old friend, a college sorority sister who I’ve always respected and seems to do motherhood seamlessly as a successful working mom, tell me that all moms feel guilty about something, some of the time. 

Three years later.  I know this to be true.  No matter what you try to do right for your family or your children (or yourself); guilt will sneak its way in.  These are just some of the ways guilty mom syndrome kicks in…

The Working Mom

Her early morning thoughts: Today, I’m going to be the best mom ever! I’m going to work hard today to teach my kids how successful you can be in life; while also making money so we can have what we need to succeed in life, and hey, even a Disney Vacation or two.

Her guilt: I should be home with my kids doing crafts, flipping through sight words index cards, making them a healthy, home-cooked lunch and kissing them at naptime.

The Stay-At-Home Mom

Her early morning thoughts: Today, I’m going to be the best mom ever! I’m going to spend so much one-on-one time with my children today and give them love and affection, teach them about the world, and make a craft out of fall leaves and paint.  We’ll run around the house using our imagination, laughing the day away.  I will make them a healthy, home-cooked lunch before I kiss them at naptime.

Her guilt: I don’t have time to cook these kids a healthy, home-cooked lunch…there are toys all over this place, paint all over the table and chairs, and I can’t even get them to sit still for one minute to do our flash cards.  What if I’m playing with them too much and they won’t learn how to play independently?  I feel so guilty for wanting it to be naptime! 

The Work-At-Home Mom

Her early morning thoughts: Today, I’m going to be the best mom ever!  I’m going to balance playing with my kiddos and working on my business plan.  I’ll take some time to prepare a healthy, home-cooked lunch and snuggle with them before their two-hour nap. After naptime, we’ll

Her guilt: I just spent thirty minutes playing doctor and being locked up in jail.  I painted with them earlier today.  We’re going to the playground after naptime.  Yet I feel bad when I do steal a few minutes to get on my laptop.  Sometimes I can get up to 15 minutes, the rest of the time I feel like I’m neglecting them since I’m not playing with them 24/7.  They’d be happier in preschool, learning and playing with other kids.  The day is ticking by and if I want to get any work done, we’ll have to settle for Spaghetti Os, a cheese stick and green beans.  I guess I can get some work done during naptime and there is always after bedtime.

So there it is moms; guilt in its finest.  You can try to do the right thing and be the best mom ever, but there is always a flip-side of the picture.  You’re either doing too much or too little. 

As Trina and I try to balance our family lives and our working lives with following our dreams to write and build our business, we are faced with guilt in every turn.  In fact, don’t be surprised to see us write about this very subject many times (see Trina’s post: Working Mommies, Let Go of the Guilt). We deal with this every day.  We know that the time, effort and long nights we put into our passion will eventually pay off.  But the guilt is a struggle.

What we have figured out is let the simple, beautiful moments-the ones that really matter-slay the guilt. When your child walks into the room and they can see the sparkle in your eyes that you’re truly happy to see them; with each meal shared with them; the attention you give them when they’re holding that invisible microphone and shaking their groove thing for their favorite audience; when they can feel your love as you hold them tight at night reading them their last bedtime story; with each kiss and I love you whispered in their ear.

Guilt will always be there…let love triumph!

How have you experienced guilt as a mommy?  Please share...knowing other moms feel this way can make us all feel just that much better!

It’s All in the Aim - A Potty Training Success Story

I was proud of my son who’d gotten the hang of potty training at 18 months.  By 22 months, he was a pro!  We were even leaving the house in our undies, taking the extra time to stop in the public bathrooms (or the secluded tree at the park) so he could go when he had to.  Now he’s two years old, and one day I couldn’t believe what I was seeing when I turned the corner into the kitchen and saw my little boy standing there, naked from the waist-down, with slightly bent knees, precisely peeing into the Mega Blok toy he held out in front of him.

   I laughed and told him he shouldn’t do that, that we only pee in the potty…but secretly, I was proud.  Until the next day, that is, when I caught him aiming for his beach pail he’d purposely placed on the floor.  This time, I had to act stern and guide him to the potty.  Over the course of the next week, probably no thanks to my initial reaction, I caught him aiming for all sorts of toys with a look of pride on his face.  Funny as it was to me the first couple of times, it was starting to grow old.  I had a serious talk with him, as serious as a talk can be at 24 months, and in just a few days, he was focused on the potty again.  Almost three now, he still occasionally pulls down his pants and smile…waiting for a reaction. 

The Anti-Chicken Fingers Movement - Cilantro Lime Chicken

This is one of my favorite recipes!  Something about the combination of lime and cilantro...along with an ice cold beer...can make any stressful day seem like a day at the beach.   

Cilantro Lime Chicken

4 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves

1 bunch fresh cilantro, finely chopped

¾ cup shredded Monterey jack cheese

1 lime, juiced

2 Tbsp olive oil

4 tsp parmesan

2 tsp red pepper flakes

Salt

Pepper

Directions

1.      Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Slice a chicken breast in half lengthwise, leaving the halves attached on one side. Open and pound flat to 1/8-in. thickness; sprinkle both sides with salt and pepper to taste. Repeat with remaining chicken breasts.

2.      Sprinkle one side of chicken breast evenly with 1 tablespoon of cilantro. At one end of each breast, place 2 tablespoons shredded cheese. Roll each breast up, starting on the side with the cheese. Insert a toothpick in each roll to prevent unrolling. Combine lime juice and olive oil and brush evenly over each chicken roll. Sprinkle each roll with 1 teaspoon parmesan cheese and a ½ teaspoon of red pepper flakes. Place in baking dish. Cover.

3.      Bake in preheated oven for 35 minutes. Uncover, sprinkle 1 teaspoon of shredded cheese over each roll and bake for 10 minutes more or until chicken juices run clear. Discard toothpicks.

4.      With the vibrant taste of cilantro and a hint of lime, this dish is a refreshingly healthy way to cure your craving for a taste of Mexico. Plus, the red pepper flakes add that little special zing.

Buon appetito!

The Competitive Mom In Each Of Us

I love this time of year!  The crisp warmth of the sun lets us know autumn is soon to arrive. We’re shuttling our kiddos to their after-school sports.  Maybe this is your first sports season as the proud mom.  Beware.  The competitive mom lives inside of each of us.  It’s what you do with her that counts.  Here is how I found that person inside of me. 

On this particularly sweltering Easter Sunday in South Carolina, my parents and I, along with my two toddlers ventured out to our first-ever Easter egg hunt.  Jump castles, face painting and games galore were scattered across a great, green lawn behind a church right in town.  Thankfully, ice water stations were abundant and I didn’t have to worry as much about my father or my boys. 

The jumpy house for toddlers had the fewest in line.  It always seems awkward–you throw your little tyke into an enclosure of mesh so he can bounce into a mess of strange, random little kids.  We smile at them from the outside; patiently watching them go up and down, side to side, even get a little trample or two. Before long they’re bored and they slide out. 

My 15-month old was too young to participate in the egg hunt, which I soon would realize why—so he stayed with my parents in the shade of some pines.  I found our designated spot and prepared for the hunt.  As we lined up, a various mixture of moms and dads with one or more children, I realized we still had time to wait before the ribbon was cut. 

Under the hot sun, 20 minutes ticks by, seemingly longer than it does at the while you’re waiting in the doctor’s office wearing a paper dress.  How do you explain the time issue to an excitable toddler who can see hundreds of colorful eggs lying just in front of us?   As we stand, beads of sweat forming on my brow, a direct order from the sun; adults readied, closing in tighter and tighter at the ribbon, waiting for the volunteers to cut it already.  I wanted my boy to get a lot of eggs.  But I worried about the other parents.  Did they have a plan?  So…quickly I devised one.  We will book it, Ninja-Warrior style, to the middle and I’d kick eggs to my boy who will swiftly scoop them into our basket.  I told my two-year-old of our master plan.

Finally, we see a chopper nearing us.  The draw to this particular egg hunt was the promise of a helicopter flying direct and low over our field of eggs.  Sure enough, they followed through as promised.  This moment elated me as I saw my son’s eyes fill with wonder as his hair wisped a dance of excitement; the little bunny nose they’d hand painted on his cheek now smudging down his smiling little face.  We cheered as the helicopter dropped those colorful plastic eggs into the roped-off hunt zone that beckoned us to begin!  As it flew off, I was suddenly aware of butterflies in my stomach.  What was this feeling?  I just wanted to make darned sure my happy little boy stayed this way and grabbed his worth in eggs.

This was the moment, folks; the birth of my parental competitiveness.  I’d seen it on TV with pageant moms and baseball dads.  I didn’t know I had it in me.  But suddenly, with my legs poised for the race, I had one mission.  GET. LOTS. OF. EGGS.  In my imagination, I held my son like an NFL running back with a football, heading for the end zone. I don’t remember the ribbon coming down; I just remember blocking and ducking and kicking and scooping.  With about 30 eggs in my basket, I felt triumph!  We won!  I cheered with my son who could’ve cared less if we had gotten 10 eggs.  I was proud.  Oh, the glory!

Almost immediately, the guilt kicked in.  Was that poor sportsmanship or was I defending my little son against those rascally four-year-olds?   I decided I needed to redeem myself, so I kneeled down to my son’s level and told him to look for a little girl who didn’t have any eggs–or very few eggs–and to give her some of ours…what’s wrong with me???  I’m even calling these eggs ours, instead of his. 

Ultimately, the arrival of this competitive mom surprised me and I’m intrigued to learn more about her.  I know she will come in handy when it comes to my children’s grades and their utmost success.  Though I also know I need to keep it in check and not become one of those moms!

Go on out there!  Proudly shout out your child’s name!  Encourage them.  Ultimately, just remember to be gracious and respect the other kids and parents out there.  Even if it means giving up a few eggs.

Moms Raising Boys and Their Endless Energy...The Boys; Not So Much The Moms

One of the things I dreamt about most when I dreamed of having children was reading to them in bed, all snuggled beneath the covers, with their heads resting on me. 

   They are 2 ½ and 1 ½ and I’m still waiting for this particular dream of mine to unfold.  You see, I have two boys.  I started reading to each of them when they were in my belly.  Now, the readings have become a part of our bedtime ritual.  It was getting pretty exciting when Luke started to learn words and we’d slowly browse through a book – I’d point to a picture and he’d holler out the matching word.  As Luke learned the alphabet, we’d search the pages for letters he recognized.  That was the extent of our readings.  I knew that any day now, with excitement, he’d want to start reading the stories along with me. 

   This summer, we got him a sturdy, Cars toddler bed (within the first hour the Cars sticker was ripped off).  That night, I climbed into his red bed adorned with Toy Story sheets and he hopped in right next to me.  This is it, I thought, anticipating the big moment.  I pulled the sheets up over us, opened the book and began to read the first page of Goldilocks and the Three Bears.  Little brother Zealand—hearing me reading, decided to climb up, too.  How exciting!  He crawled over me, his knees poking my shin; toenails scraping over my thigh.  But he found a spot, and there we were.  I pulled the sheet up over us and reread the first page so Zealand wouldn’t miss a thing. 

   On page three, the hungry little blonde comes across the porridge.  Luke had turned his body 90 degrees with his feet propped on his bedside table.  He was revving his engine apparently, ‘brrrm brrrrm’ as he announced he was a car and going really, really fast.  Zealand was tugging and bending and shoving the page I was trying to read.  He had a mission to destroy the page, not read it.  I swiftly pulled the book from his grip as if I were a three-year-old on the playground, rightfully grabbing back my toy.  He pulled himself to his feet and began to bounce away.  Then, Luke flipped over in a millisecond and jumped out of bed, his elbow flailing into my chest, his other hand smashing my stomach flat, and snatched the book. 

   “No more book, Mommy!” he announced. 

   I was heartbroken!  My cozy little dream.  Then just frustrated… 

   I yanked the book back and said in my stern mommy voice, “We are going to sit here and read this book, right now, or I am going to leave this room!”  That voice is usually saved for moments when he hits his brother or when Zealand tries to scale the entertainment center.  I quickly realized it would take more than a new toddler bed to sway these boys from their inherent verve. 

   Defeated, I looked at them, opened my arms out to the room, inviting them to run and play, and pulled myself up on the bed.  I made a comfy spot and read the familiar story of a broken chair and a little girl fast asleep.  In the background, I heard car noises—helicopter noises, a basketball bouncing off the wall,  the sound of Zealand climbing up the outside of his crib, the click of the fan being turned on and off, then on again, and their loud, boyish laughter.  

   I remembered some of the many conversations I’d had with my friends who had daughters.  The majority of them will cuddle up for book after book after book.   As I glance up, I wish that at least one of them would want to sit still and read with me…but seeing the joy on their faces as they play with one another into the wee moments before bed, well, I'll be darned if that doesn't delight me! 

Going From Firm to Sweet in a Millisecond - The Emotional Switches in Motherhood

A state characterized by the coexistence of contradictory or incompatible elements; one sign being a rapidly changing mood- from happy to sad to angry for no apparent reason.  Schizophrenia.  If my sons were aware of medical terms-and doctors-this is no doubt what they’d diagnose me as.

At least that’s how I feel many times in our day.

Last night, for example. It’s bedtime.  We had woken up at 5:00 a.m. followed by zero naps.  I wore them out at the playground with a group of 10+ kiddos under the age of 5 for a solid hour at the very minimum. They ate a hearty meal of SpaghettiOs with extra meatballs at dinner; bath; books; brush; the usual. At 7:45 p.m., I kissed their precious foreheads and bid them a good night and sweet dreams.  I closed the door behind me and sat on the couch before realizing I hadn’t poured that glass of wine yet.  A few minutes went by.  Silence.  Ah!  I stood up to pour that satiny red into my glassy best friend.  Ultimate relaxation imminent in just minutes.

“Mommy, I’m thirsty.” I hear my oldest calling from behind his door.  At least, he wasn’t opening it (that means he is aware there are rules).

Thoughts dart in my mind.  Stand firm and say no.  He’ll get the idea and know you are not a pushover.  The other voice says, just give him a cup of water and maybe that’s all he really needs and that will be the end of it tonight.

I give him a cup of water.

“Good night, mommy.” He disappears back into his room like the good little almost-three-year-old that he is. 

Ten minutes later, following a potty break, a sip of water and a clean diaper for my youngest, and a tuck in for both; I find myself standing in between their beds.  “Mommy, sing one more song.” A voice in my head explains that the boys shall get no more songs otherwise I am a pushover and this will happen every night until they’re sixteen.  The other voice says to sing one more song just in hopes that this will be the last call of the night. 

In the firmest, most non-pushover voice I can muster, “Okay, I’ll sing one more song.  But THAT IS IT!  NO MORE GAMES!”

[Enter sweet tender mommy voice]

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy…”  Who in normal society actually does that?  There is rarely an instance that you will be talking so firm to someone and switch into sweet sing-songy mode so rapidly.  This is the schizophrenia I’m talking about.  I mean, can you imagine talking to your boss at work…
[Firmly] Leah, I’m really disappointed in your performance on the analytics report.  You’ve miscalculated the numbers and your writing is quite illegible. [Softly] But have I ever told you how nice your hair smells.  Every time you walk past me in the hallway I just think to myself I am so glad I hired you and that I really like you a lot.”

And this isn’t the only instance.  This happens when we’re having a great time playing and laughing and in his excitement, Luke jumps up and knocks his brother to the floor.  My friendly aura is jolted and I’m forced to work up a tough love lesson I’m not quite fond of.  Or when he climbs on my lap and tells me, “mommy, I love you.”  Delighted, I go in for a kiss and notice he’s chewing.  I ask, “What’s in your mouth?”  He spits out black rubber into my hand.  I quickly scan the room spying my lone flip flop in the corner.  A chunk savagely torn from it.  I’m too relaxed to turn work up the energy to be mad, but I don’t want him to ruin any more of my shoes.  Or when we had a fun outing at the park and we chase eachother to the car, giggling all the while, and then he sneakily jumps into the front of the car while I’m buckling in his brother and refuses to climb into his seat-thus making me chase him from side to side-resulting in an I’m-over-it “you better get in your seat or… (or what-think fast!) or you won’t get that treat when we get home.” What treat?  Now I need to get him a treat if he gets in his seat.  Why am I going to treat him for finally obeying me after a few minutes of craziness?  Ah, the word craziness.  Maybe this isn’t a coincidence. 

Honestly, I’d rather be the sweet and happy mommy 24/7.   But I’m savvy enough to know that doesn’t work out too well for the kiddos in the long run.  I guess for me, who has always been pretty agreeable and the last person to ever start a fight, it’s hard to be that assertive and firm person I know I need to be. 

Or maybe I just over think it.

The Anti-Chicken Fingers Movement – Burritos Delicioso

Another oldie-but-goodie from my husband’s childhood.  These burritos are so easy to make and so very delicious.  If your kids aren’t fans of spicy, then set aside some pork for them after you brown.  When you go to make the burritos, just mark the kid burritos with a pirate “x” or something equally groovy like that. 

Burritos Delicioso

·         Burrito-size tortillas

·         2 cans rotelle (we use 1 mild and 1 original)

·         Ground pork

·         Cheddar

·         1 can refried beans (prefer Ortega)

Directions

Brown pork.  Drain pork and simmer in pot with rotelle for one hour.  Heat oven to 300.  Layer beans, pork mixture and cheese in each tortilla (making 7 ½).  Bake for 10 min.  Sprinkle more cheese to top.  Bake another 10 min.

The Anti-Chicken Fingers Movement - Parmesan-Dijon Chicken

Served for the very first time to my boyfriend of 2 years on July 8, 2002.  We had just moved in together in a cute two bedroom house in Myrtle Beach after living in San Diego for a couple of years.  From the cookbook, “Betty Crocker’s Cooking Basics: Learning to Cook with Confidence” – no doubt a gift from my mom, my first official welcome into my future domesticity.  I knew this guy would one day be my husband and thought it savvy to try each and every recipe and document the date and our thoughts of said dish on each page.  We, or very well I, branded this recipe – “great!”  And it is, we have had it numerous times over the last 9 years (has it been that long!).  Easy to prepare, fairly healthy and quite tasty…it goes fabulously with potatoes and broccoli or peas. 

Parmesan-Dijon Chicken

·         6 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves (about ¼ pound each)

·         ¼ cup (1/2 stick) margarine or butter

·         ¾ cup dry bread crumbs

·         ¼ cup grated parmesan

·         2 tablespoons Dijon mustard

Directions

Heat the oven to 375.  Melt the margarine in a microwavable dish (about 15 seconds). Mix the bread crumbs and cheese in a large plastic bag.  Stir the mustard into the melted margarine until well mixed. 

Dip the chicken, one piece at a time, into the margarine mixture, coating all sides.  Then place in the bag of crumbs, seal the bag and shake to coat with crumb mixture.  Place the chicken in a single layer in an ungreased rectangular pan.

Bake uncovered 20 to 30 minutes, turning chicken over once with tongs.

Just Breathe - Lessons Learned on the Anniversary of 9/11

Just after 9:03 a.m. yesterday, I stifled a sob as I watched NBC's coverage of the anniversary of the September 11th tragedy. My family busied around me. At our cottage by the beach...our vacation timeshare...my mom and husband cooked breakfast.  My dad sipped coffee on the balcony.  My two sons raced circles around the kitchen island.  I was engrossed in this telecast straight from Ground Zero.

It hit deep in my soul when a 12-year-old sweet girl was telling her daddy that he was the best ever and will always be in her heart. This daddy left her world when she was just 2.  My boys are about that age. It was at that moment that I truly accepted what my husband had said to me just the night before.

After he had watched a 9/11 documentary, he came to bed and said to me, "We need to be so grateful. We have one another. We have healthy children. We have our lives."  Half asleep, I agreed...mostly wanting to be grateful for lots of sleep.

I often feel like I can be swept up in the challenges of life and that it's hard to find things to be grateful for.  The nights that I remember to thank God for what I have, I am blessed for my family, friends and our health.  I always find a way to go back to...but if I could just make a little more money...or if we could just sell that house...or whatever material wants I can think of a that moment.

Yet, I see it now.  So what if times are tough and the timing is off to sell our house.  We get to watch the joy in our sons' faces as they float on top of wave after salty wave as we vacation at the sea.  Sure, we wish we had a little extra cash so we can afford to redo our kitchen.  But we are able to enjoy a few nice dinners out with the family this week.  Yet again, another fantastic illustration of gratefulness bestowed....we are able to be with our kids, no matter how restless our 21-month-old gets when we go out to eat.  And sure, we hope and pray we can send our boys to the best schools.  But, right now, we are there with him the moment he figures out something challenging and that proud smile emerges on his little face. 



We are lucky.  We are blessed.

Through every tantrum, every cup of spilled crystal light on a clean floor, every exhausted 2am wake up call.  Every single moment you wish you could have just a little space to just breathe.  Just be so grateful for all that you have.  And breathe.

You can.

Breathe.

The Anti-Chicken Fingers Movement - Rocky Mountain Enchiladas & Chili Rellenos

Rocky Mountain Enchiladas & Chili Rellenos

Please note: our rellenos busted open...but still delicioso!

This is one of those recipes that has been handed down only through experience.  My husband learned from his mother, watching her make this since he was about 8 yo; years later he taught me.  I finally took the time to write it down.  When Zac first made it for me, it was probably in our first month of dating.  I remember asking him for sour cream and he looked at me as if I had asked for ketchup for a steak dinner.  He explained that it simply didn’t need it.  That night I realized he was right, and ten years later I haven’t found the need to supplement this recipe.  You may, however. 

It’s a little bit of work, but once you get used to it, you get a system down.  Let me tell you, it is well worth it.  This meal is far more delicious than many enchilada/chili relleno meals I’ve had at some Mexican restaurants.  It is fried, but you know what’s going into it.  There really isn’t making the rellenos healthier, but I would imagine you’d do just fine without frying the tortillas for the enchiladas. 

Bon appetite!

J Leah

Rocky Mountain Enchiladas & Chili Rellenos

• 12 corn tortillas
• 20 oz. enchilada sauce (medium)
• 1 lb. ground beef
• Green onions
• 8 oz. cheddar cheese
• 4.25 oz. can whole green chiles
• 1 c. flour
• 1 egg
• 8 oz. Monterey Jack cheese
• Shortening

Directions

Heat oven to 350.  Spray cooking sheet with cooking spray.  Brown ground beef.  Chop scallions and add to ground beef.  In an 8” skillet, melt ½ - 1 cup of Crisco until it is about 1” deep.  On medium-high heat, fry each corn tortilla for about 15 seconds on each side until golden but still pliable enough to roll.  Place on a paper towel to absorb grease.   Shred cheese.  Take one tortilla, layer a spoonful of beef and sprinkle cheese on top of beef.  Roll tortilla tightly and place on baking sheet.  Chop green onions and reserve on side with remainder of shredded cheddar cheese.  Simmer enchilada sauce in small pot on stovetop.

While enchiladas are baking, slice Monterey Jack cheese into ½” slices.  Carefully take chiles out of can (they tear easily) and chop tip off of each chili.  Slide one slice of cheese into each chili.  In an 8” skillet, melt ½ - 1 cup of shortening until it is about 1” deep.  Beat one egg in a small bowl.  Pour flour in another.  Dip each chili in egg, then coat with flour.  Place in grease until fried golden, turning once to fry evenly.

Sprinkle enchiladas with green onions and shredded cheese; spoon enchilada sauce on top.  Serve with chili rellenos.

p.s. It makes for serious leftovers for your husband to take to work the following day (a.k.a. his coworkers will have yet another illustration of just how fabulous you really are!)