Hopeful Housewife

If you take a look around a home furnishing store these days, it is blatantly clear that what I am about to confess is rare and perhaps even unusual. While this particular preference was once common-place and classic, it’s perhaps now dated and old-fashioned.

I dont care about that, you see, because I’m dated and old-fashioned.

 I LOVE monogrammed linens. LOVE them. I’m currently devising a plan to purchase hotel style linens for our room with our monogram on the pillows. I’m also going to be ordering new guest towels with our monogram on them

Yes, I know, its unusual and rigid. I dont care.

Besides, I think its cool that our first and last initials are the same. 

Now my mind is wandering….

I could get stationary…tea towels…HANKIES!

Ok so I got off light today.

 Breakfast:

I fixed turkey bacon and egg burritos at 7:00am today. I’m pretty certain, however, that the coffee was the best part.  I’m just as tired now as I was the moment I stepped out of bed today.

Lunch was easy…It’s my mom’s birthday and we had lunch at our fave Mexican place here in town. I had a quesadilla, beans and rice. It was a children’s plate and I still wasn’t hungry yet at dinner. Which brings me to…

 Dinner:

Bean Tostadas made from beans that had been crock-potting overnight. Mmm soooo yummy. I love pinto beans. I served them with chopped cabbage, cheese, homemade salsa, and my super yummy spicy avocado cream sauce.  I also threw together some spanish rice (which I’ve officially perfected). Dh’s best friend came over too, and I had spicy “bloody” beers to serve with the meal. I wasn’t hungry but did want a snack later on, so I had a PB&J.  How’s that for exciting.

I haven’t got a CLUE what I’m fixing for dinner tomorrow…tune in for the “one egg casserole” tomorrow evening.

So I even took pictures of everything I fixed today, only to discover that I cant find my camera cable. *sigh*

Pictures to follow.

Breakfast: Oatmeal Pancakes. I made my usual hungry jack pancakes and added a packet of instant maple and brown sugar oatmeal. The kids had NO idea it was in there. Next time I’ll add two packets.

Lunch: Booorrinnnggg…

Mac and Cheese (the blue box, ewww) for my middle child….Ramen for the wee one and my uber picky son had a spoonful of peanut butter and some saltine crackers. *eyeroll* I opted for frosted flakes.  What can I say, it was a hard school day and I just didn’t have it in me to a.) fight them about eating or b.) fix anything fab.

Dinner: Mmmmm

I crock potted an eye of round all day w/lipton onion soup and about 1/4 cup of water. This evening, I took it out, sliced it kinda like a meatloaf, then cut those hunks into halves. This left me with little squares of meat that I put into spicy bbq sauce and simmered down for a while. I whipped up some little homemade buttermilk biscuits and fruit salad, and it made for a pretty fun dinner. We had these little BBQ beef sliders of sorts. SOOO tasty and tiny! I had just enough for Art to take for lunch tomorrow…and I always send enough for his best friend.

I’m gonna pop some oatmeal cookies in the oven in a bit which will probably help to keep the house warm for the majority of the night too. Gotta love food that serves a dual purpose.

Anyone see Oprah today? Mo’Nique was on the show (is that how she spells her name?) At any rate, she was on the show and gave the most tear-inducing testimony of how Oprah inspired her in like 1978 on her Baltimore, Maryland talk show.  Oprah gave her remarkable words of wisdom (that I dont dare try to recall properly) and it really made me think.

Honest? First reaction, I was a bit sad. Sad that I had never had such an experience. I never had anyone truly inspire me like that. Was I inspired to be a good person? Of course. Was I led well by my Mother, my #1 Female mentor and role model? Yes indeed. Was I motivated to be something amazing by way of following my true dream for myself? No. Why not you ask? Well it wasnt because my parents didn’t believe in me. It wasn’t because they didn’t think I could do it…and it wasnt becuase I didn’t express an interest in a “profession”.

I think I probably completely perplexed my parents, because what I wanted to be wasn’t profitable. It wasn’t popular or acceptable in the 80’s when I was raised. Heck, it wasn’t even a profession.

I wanted to be “A Mom”. 

Each time I stated this, my Dad often responded with, “And what else?” For years, this upset me. I felt that what I wanted to be wasn’t good enough, or that I had somehow disappointed my parents. I know now that I have been put on a path that simply isn’t common, and is often misunderstood. I suppose if I was a parent of the 80’s this would be stressful for me to hear from my child as well.  I know now that my Dad was probably trying to protect me.

I also know now that there’s nothing to protect me from. Frankly, I think he knows that too. I’d like to think he’s proud of me.

As I reflected on this while watching Oprah, I pondered who my role model may have been. Who was it that I wanted to be like when I “grew up”? My mother was a working mother, as were most of the mothers I knew. Despite this, all I ever wanted was to get married and have children. I didn’t have a career goal, and I failed miserably at every attempt to go to college. (and I’m not dumb!)  I simply never had a serious interest outside of all things domestic. I then remembered my Great Aunt Jodie.

 Aunt Jodie was a remarkable woman. I’m struggling to find a more appropriate adjective for her. She was strong, resourceful, loving, fair, and hospitable. She was an incredible cook, kept a gorgeous house, and was a loving mother of five children. She had four daughters and a son, all four of her girls bed-ridden by their teens due to a terrible disease that was expected to end their lives by their twenties.  She outlived her husband and all four of her girls, who miraculously all lived into their 50’s ( I believe one lived to be in her 60’s) and also lived through the death of her only grandson. She had lived through tough financial times, illness, pain, hurt, and tragic loss, and she had done it all with amazing grace and love.

When I got married over nine years ago, she gifted me with a crock-pot. I had never used one before, and was both baffled and intrigued by it. After I opened it, she said something that stuck with me forever. She said, “You fix that man some hot meals and take care of him.” I smiled, nodded, thanked her and dismissed her old fashioned advice as outdated and unnecessary. Surely that man of mine could feed himself.

Over the years, I realized that indeed, he could feed himself. Afterall, I was working full time while our children were in daycare. I didn’t have time to wait on him. Besides, I wasnt going to be a slave to any man. I was a progressive woman of the new millenium and all.  A progressive woman of the new millenium that desperately just wanted to be home with her babies.

Art and I eventually made the decision to have me stay home at all costs. We lived on less than 20,000 that first year. It was probably the toughest year of my life, but we did it. Each year got a little better, and ultimately, I realized that my lack of willingness to nuture my husband was inhibiting his progress at work. Without the strong woman behind him, he wasnt standing as tall as he could be. I began to care for him more intensely. Prepared his clothing, fixed his meals, packed his lunches, and made every attempt to make our modest, simple home a complete retreat for him. Much to my surprise, it became a retreat for me too. Slowly but surely, I began to really appreciate my role in this family, and was blessed daily by the change in the overall feel of our home. 

As I brought out my crock-pot one day, Aunt Jodie’s words came flying back to me. I had since lost her, and treasured that darn crock-pot more than any woman should treasure a kitchen appliance. I thought about what she had said to me. She wasn’t simply telling me to fix him hot meals. There was so much more to what she was telling me. Nuture the man. Take care of the man. Sure, feed him good food…but feed his heart too. Tell him he’s important. Make sure he feels loved and respected. It’s not just for him, either. When he’s treated properly, he’s kinder, calmer, more content. My life is more joyful because HE is more joyful. 

I ‘fix that man hot meals and take care of him”, and in return, he gets up every day and works himself to the bone to ensure that I am able to live out my dream. I have what I’ve always dreamed for. It may not involve fame, fortune, or even money for that matter…but it’s simply, exactly, without a doubt, all I have ever wanted.

Gotta run…I’ve got dinner in the crock-pot.

Welcome to my latest idea: A daily log of the meals I fixed my family. May you find something tasty…a new, different recipe…and on occasion, I’m sure you’ll find the opportunity to laugh at my culinary misfortunes.

 So with that, I give you, “What’s Cookin’ Good Lookin’ “!

Breakfast: Hungry Jack pancakes with 1/2 cup melted peanut butter mixed in. SOOO yummy. Would have been better with jelly on top, but I was out. Maybe that should be added to my to-do list for tomorrow. Must.make.jelly. Oh, I made some scrambled eggs and turkey bacon for Art and I. We’re old and can’t do pancakes on their own. We go into carbo-load and pass out.

Lunch: My new recipe

2 chicken breasts, (boneless skinless) boiled until almost done, chopped up into chunks, sauteed in some vegetable oil…added a little bag of fideo noodles. Brown noodles, and add a cube of sopa de tomate, a can of tomato sauce, some cumin, garlic, salt, pepper, and one jalapeno, quartered. I then added a can of chicken stock, and cooked down on high for about 12 minutes. (Fideo cooks quickly!) I served it with warmed corn torillas and OMG it was SOOO good.

Dinner: Boiled then broiled pork spare ribs, and my famous mashed potatoes. We coated them in Jack Daniel’s spicy bbq sauce.  I felt a little guilty that I didnt prepare a veggie. I’ll try to make up for that tomorrow.

p.s….Chocolate chip toaster waffles are yummy without anything on them.

Today was the kind of day that perplexes me. I was busy the vast majority of the day…really thought I was accomplishing TONS…and yet, here at 8:58pm, I have dishes in the sink, laundry in the hall, and appear to have converted my living room to a dry cleaners.  It’s Sunday, you see, which means we had “Sunday dinner” (spareribs and mashed potatoes), laundry day, (everyday is laundry day, but Sunday it becomes the ultimate challenge) and it’s also the day before Art’s work week, so all of his button ups are hanging in various locations in the living room. (I knew the treadmill was going to be good for something)….

 To complicate matters, I have a bundle of clothing to go through that were given to us for Gavin. They are all one size too big, but they’ll fit next winter…so I have to locate a storage spot for them.  I’ll be glad I did come next winter.

On the upside, my room is beautiful right now. I’ve switched out window treatments (all white), switched bedding (white sheets, white embroidered shams, and a solid down-alternative comforter), and adorned my little table with a white table cloth and some purple tulips. All is dusted and vacuumed in there, and I’m certain it will be a nice retreat come bedtime tonight. So far Miata, my big kitty thinks so.

And while I’m focusing on the positive, the kids managed to clean their rooms today, I decorated my table for Valentine’s day, stored away some unused linens, created a new recipe at lunchtime, (recipe to follow) and successfully snuck peanut butter into my pancake batter this morning for the kids. (1/2 cup for a double batch of pancake batter, melted before adding). Perhaps most important is I managed to sit my entire family down for Bible study for an entire HOUR just after breakfast.  We studied Matthew 1-11, and my kids really listened pretty well. Piper needed redirection, but that’s to be expected.  I really had a moment to see that the seeds we have been planting over the course of their lives are sprouting. I’m so delighted by their ability to absorb the Word of God.

It’s Sunday night, so I suppose I see it as a day to reflect on the week prior. I see things that went well this past week, and a few things that leave me disappointed. I’ll continue to perfect my routine, and perhaps more importantly, cut myself some slack on occasion.

Goals for tomorrow:

at least 3 loads of laundry folded and put away.

Bake bread for dinner.

Prepare tortillas for the first part of the week.

Wash kids’ linens.

Clean stove top.

Of course, there’s the boring daily stuff; dishes, sweeping, etc… but listing the obvious may only serve to overwhelm me…or give me another reason to blog about all the things I didnt accomplish.

It’s 6:28am. It’s raining outside, which is my favorite weather. I could sit and listen to the rain fall for hours and be perfectly entertained. The house smells vaguely of bacon and eggs and even moreso of fresh coffee. This warms my heart because I know that the truck my husband rode to work in smells of the same, and with any luck, the bacon and egg burritos tasted even better than they smelled.

The house is otherwise silent. The coffeemaker lets out an occasional pop or click, the fridge hums in the background, and the keyboard clicks away as I type, but aside from the rain, its remarkably quiet. It’s rare to have this type of peace, and rare is an understatement.

For ages, I’ve been a nightowl. For as long as I can remember, I’ve had trouble getting to sleep, but had no difficulty whatsoever sleeping in until 10.  Once you have children, this schedule no longer seems functional. For the first few years of motherhood, I seemed to just sleep when I could, get up when I had to, and managed to make it through each day without collapsing from complete exhaustion. As the kids have grown older, and their sleep patterns seem to be more reliable, I’ve learned how to plan MY sleep schedule too. Where I once opted to stay up late after they had gone to bed, I now see the benefit in going to be when they do, or shortly after (lately its been about 8:30) and rising around 5am.  Not only am I able to get uninterrupted time with my husband that early, but I am able to see him off to work (which I had been doing anyway, but now I’m not rushed or desperately trying to crawl back into bed), I’m able to read my Bible, have time with the Lord, eat breakfast and drink coffee alone, even shower and get dressed…all before the kids wake up.

 If I’m lucky, one child will rise before the rest, and I’ll even get alone time with him or her.

I used to think my grandmother was nuts for waking up at five o’clock every morning. She read the paper, read her bible, drank coffee and ate raisin bran. She sat there, wrapped in her blue velour robe, completely peaceful and quiet. If I woke up before she completed her morning ritual, she smiled at me but didnt say a word. She silently told me to observe her silence and respect her routine. I didnt say a word until she initiated verbal interaction. As a child, I thought this odd. As an adult, I am inspired…

 There’s something to be said for maintaining your silence in the morning until the sun initiates conversation.

I have three beautiful children. Each with their own personalities, preferences, and interests.  My son, who is also my oldest, is highly competative, and doesn’t take too kindly to losing or simply not having things go his way. This is partially due to his neurology,  but as he grows and matures, I’m finding this is really just his personality too. Imagine my dismay when he took up an interest in football shortly before the season began last year. He picked a team seemingly out of the blue. No one in our families were fans of his team, and he was razzed lovingly about his choice by his Raider loving grandfathers.  I cringed when I thought of his team losing, knowing full well that it could be hours of tears and frustration for him. He had picked a good team, but certainly they were not Superbowl contenders as he so proudly proclaimed they would be.

They had wins….and more wins….a couple of losses, and quite a few more victories that resulted in both increased media coverage and shocking upsets.

My husband and I followed the season more closely than ever with our son, praying against all odds that they would win each game they played, hoping to spare our son the agony of defeat.

It seemed our prayers were working. Or maybe our son just knew all along…

The New York Giants are going to the superbowl. I almost cried. My son did too. He had on his giants hat, with his blue football in hand the entire game. When the pressure was too heavy on him, he left the room saying “I’m just too nervous.” When the game went into overtime, my husband and I looked at eachother with hope and excitement…but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit we were terrified too.

Our son, being seven, was trying to hard to be a “big boy” about it all, but was literally in tears as the kicker made his third attempt to win the darn game.

We all screamed when he did.

I looked at my husband and said, “Prepare for the phone to start ringing.” Boy, did it ever.

It rang off the hook for a good 20 minutes, all of our family calling to congratulate our son. My dad maybe said it best…

“Boy, you might be the only person in the United States that absolutely KNEW they could do it.”

 He might be right. But our son was too. WTG son…A little hope goes a long way.

My home on the web…a glimpse into my “real” home as well I suppose, (Assuming you want one of course. *wink* )

A place on the web for me to celebrate my calling in life…my passion…the very thing that gets me out of bed every morning, usually as the sun is rising.  The thing that makes me smile…inspires me to bargain hunt, thrift shop, flea market dig, and browse at etsy.com. My source of daily inspiration, way of creative expression, and means of reaching out to others. It is also occasionally a source of frustration, chaos, and dish-pan hands. 

I am, of course, talking about my life as a housewife. A *hopeful* housewife, no doubt. Hopeful that my devotion to my family will make a difference. Hopeful that I will successfully reach out to other mothers and homemakers and prove to them that their calling is not only important, but rewarding and delightful as well.  And naturally, I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to find a cure for “ring around the collar”, armpit stains in under-shirts, that funky discoloration in cheap plastic food storage containers, and poor pee aim in young boys. 

I’ll always maintain my hope when it comes to creating a delcious meal with the last five things in the pantry, (which usually consists of a can of tomato sauce, a can of beets, italian breadcrumbs, quick oats and that one egg in the fridge thats going bad TOMORROW.)

I’ll try to cling to my hope while I am desperately attempting to catch up on homeschooling, baking, shopping, laundry, weeding, bill paying, tea towel ironing, shirt starching, tablecloth smoothing, and dog poop disposal. 

 I’ll question my hope when I’m 2 weeks behind on everything, burn my dinner, and the dog poops in my shoe because I forgot to feed him.

I’ll try to keep a positive mindset because what I do…what MANY of us are priveleged to do is not only filled with hope, but excitement, love, and constant rewards…sometimes we just need a little help to see them through the sea of toys, fabric scraps, runny noses, dirty diapers, smelly socks, and dust bunnies.

My life is filled with hope. Most of the time its the hope I have, but perhaps sometimes it’s the hope I must seek out and cling to for dear life. And dear it is.

Welcome to my home.  Make yourself comfortable…just nevermind the funny smell. It’s this new casserole I’m trying. I’m not sure it’s going to work out for me, but what can I say…I had an egg I had to use.