Three Things and a Request

• How did the peanut butter cookie dough fare in the crock pot, you ask?  Eh.  It was fine.  I was never that big of a peanut butter cookie fan until I began making them for myself as an adult, and last night's final product reminded me of any mediocre peanut butter cookie you can get from a deli or grocery store.  Cookie snob that I am, in the future I'll be channeling Lord Capulet and keeping these ill-matched parties separate.  

• It's well-established that I'm just the tiniest bit frugal and that I'm on a lifelong quest to eliminate excess waste from our household, which makes this a beautiful, beautiful thing in my starry eyes:

I've been cutting open our lotion bottles to get all the extra lotion out for many moons, but it didn't occur to me to do the same to my facial moisturizer until a few months ago, and behold!  I discovered an extra 3-4 weeks' worth of lotion in there, coating the inside of the bottle, hiding from the pump, hoping to remain undiscovered.  Of course, you have to keep the bottle you're slowing disemboweling in a container of some sort- I use tupperware- to keep the lotion from drying out, but I was inordinately excited by this whole thing.  For some reason, Derek didn't share my level of enthusiasm over this.  He's a strange man sometimes.

• Something neat that is commented on every time I take this crock pot somewhere:

That little rubber band-thingy came with this, the biggest of my crock pots, and it is so simple but so genius:  It does a marvelous job of keeping the lid on when I'm transporting food from the house to the car to another house, and never slips off.  I assume you could do much the same thing with a regular rubber band of some sort, although the handles on this one have notches on their undersides for the band to slip into.  Who on earth comes up with these things?  Not the likes of me.  

For the curious, that's not the C-grade cookie dough in there but tonight's supper, which has the benefit of being easy, and delicious, and doesn't require the use of our angry oven.  Like all true chefs (lolololol), I began supper prep at 7:30 this morning when I threw a roast in the crock pot and then dumped the contents of this package on top.

Lid on, switch on low, and that's it.  I'll shred the beef and discard the fat about twenty minutes before we eat tonight, but other than that, it's as far as I'll come to slaving over a hot stove today.  Served on warmed tortillas with some cheddar and salsa and sour cream?  Delicious.  I'll throw the leftovers on a bed of spinach for the lunch the next few days, show my anemia who's boss.

I have exactly six more great crock pot recipes, and then I'm tapped out, which doesn't exactly work with our oven being out of commission for the foreseeable future.  As such, I'm asking for your help:  Do you have any tried and true crock pot recipes?  Would you share them, or are they state secrets?  Please?

A Sunshiney List

• As some of you know, I regularly treat Halloween as a competition with Ghosts of Kristy Past (Ghost of Kristys Past?  Ghost of Kristies Past?  I see a 'y' at the end and desperately want to turn it into a plural 'ies,' but as I've explained to countless people over the years THAT'S NOT HOW YOU SPELL MY NAME.  What is the proper plural of the Dickensian term?) to see who can spend the absolute least amount of money on costumes for our children.  With three costumes completed, I can happily report that I am winning.  Detailed, self-indulgent report to come.

• With the knowledge that glasses will soon be gracing the face of our daughter, I did what I do and turned to books and a beloved librarian for help.  You see, I had all manner of picture books featuring bespectacled protagonists ready for her when she was younger, the Arthur series and such, because I had no doubt that our children would need glasses, given the appalling eyesight Derek and I are in possession of.  But then they got older and older and had one astonishing report of 20/20 vision after another, and I grew a little lax in keeping a mental catalogue of "glasses in books for our poor, nearly-blind children."  Now Adelaide is, ahem, less than pleased about the idea of wearing glasses, and I have no books ready for her!  (The horror.)  Enter beloved librarian:  "CathyIneedyourhelpAdelaideandglassesandwretchednessandNOBOOKSPREPAREDandanguish!"  She, in turn, calmly reached out to ALL THE LIBRARIANS IN THE STATE and is even now compiling a list of books for me, because she is magical.  
• Note:  This is aaaallll aside from Harry Potter.  Of course I thought of Harry Potter with his glasses, but Adelaide has read all of those, so I need books in addition to HP.  Preferably a female character, who is not stupid, or insipid, or annoying, or too age-inappropriate.  Honestly, I don't try to be difficult to please, it just... happens.

• You would think that, after one particularly memorable night of watching rerun after rerun of Unsolved Mysteries years ago, I would have learned that there are just some shows that you don't watch alone when the darkness outside your windows is concealing God only knows what.  Last night, however, I decided that since I had some sewing to do and the kids were in bed and Derek wasn't home, it would be a positively splendid idea to watch an episode or three of The Twilight Zone.  I mean, I LOVE that show!  What could go wrong?

Sometimes I am a slow learner.

Many things, friends.  Many things could go wrong.  Granted, most of the wrong things were happening within the confines of my own brain, but as Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore said, "Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"

So comforting.

Ends and Odds

• I'm running my first 10k race this Saturday morning.  I've run both shorter and longer races than this, but I'm still a little nervous, for some reason.  10 kilometers is probably my favorite distance to run on any given day, but that's when I don't have to worry about my time or running with other people or all the other things race day brings.  I'm most concerned about my pacing, as my watch is dead and I have no plans on purchasing another any time soon; I love running off of feel alone, so I suppose we'll just have to see how that goes this weekend.  I do have a goal pace and time, which I will only share with Derek because in general I like to keep people's expectations nice and low- including mine- so that I don't disappoint.  If you think of it, maybe send some good vibrations my way Saturday around 7:30 am, and feel free to help me out by eating extra pasta tomorrow.  Because I'm pretty sure that's how carbo loading works.

• Yesterday I went upstairs to rouse Caedmon so we could go grab the biggens from the bus stop.  I checked the boys' room, and didn't find him.  I checked Adelaide's room, and didn't find him.  I checked my room, and didn't find him.  Then I did it all over again, finally spying some little hands in the mass of pillows on our bed:

When asked why he insisted on sleeping under all those pillows, his reply was, "I just wanted to sleep right where Daddy sleeps."  Of course.

• The last several  memoirs I've read have been very bleh, mostly due to a big steamy heap of self-indulgence in every last one of them.  It seems that autobiographies in particular are in desperate need of a deft editor, hopefully in the vein of the best antiques appraisers who are able to tell people that to you and your family, this item or story is rich in sentiment; to the rest of the world, it's merely boring, tacky trash.  

Mercifully, I seem to have broken the dull memoir streak:

I'm about a quarter of the way through, and so far her stories move at a nimble pace and feature details that make you love her family, such as how her uncle was just sure pizza wasn't going to catch on or that time her mom got stuck in the chicken house.  I'm reluctant to tell you about a book before I've finished it, but so far, this one is wonderfully entertaining, and I have yet to roll my eyes and holler, "NOBODY CARES!" like I did with the last memoir I slogged through.

A List

I had decided not to write a post today because I was in such a determined state of grouchiness, but now it's thundering out and there's a light rain to water my hard-working spring flowers.  Few things cheer me up like a healthy thunderstorm, so I'm feeling much better now, thank you.

• The first hyacinths have bloomed:

I planted these a couple years ago, but for whatever reason they didn't bloom last spring.  When it started to look like they might actually flower this year, I got excited about the peach-colored hyacinths I was just sure I had planted in this spot.  Well.  These aren't peach.

They are, however, a beautiful purple-blue color, and I'm pleased as punch with them.  The first flowers of the season are always so exciting.

• We celebrated a lovely, low-key Easter with church and golf and gardening.  I have all of three photos of the kids in their Easter finery ("Easter finery" in this household equating to whatever nice-ish clothes I could cobble together three hours before the church service, as I stopped spending money on holiday clothing years ago), or maybe it was four, and right around 100 photos of the kids and Derek golfing.  I will not be forcing you to look at all 100+, but fair warning:  There are going to be a large amount of pics on here this week.  Some will be sweet:

Derek and Cade golfing.  Caedmon looks a bit waif-like in all the golf photos, as he's wearing one of Derek's hats and one of Atticus's shirts.  I did not notice this until we were on the course.  Oh, well.

Some will baffle:

I took this photo of Adelaide during the Easter egg hunt, and I'm still not sure what's happening here.

But in precisely zero photos will everyone be smiling.

Caedmon's "Lollipop Guild" face

• I was going to have a third thing here, but I can't remember what it was.  This is a problem because I cannot let myself have a list with just two items.  So... fill in your own third item.  And make it clever, would you?  Or perhaps heart-warming, or funny, or something?  Thanks.

A List For Your Thursday Viewing Pleasure

• Last Saturday's lunchtime conversation:  

Adelaide:  "I can't wait for this afternoon."

Derek:  "Why is that, Adelaide?"

Adelaide:  "Because I'm going to do the Winter Cleaning Of My Mind.  It's stocked full and I can't put any new thoughts in there because it's so clogged up."

Obviously what she needs is a pensieve, but I knew better than to bring that up, as I have not yet allowed her to read Harry Potter.  I have also said no to The Hunger Games and The Lord of the Rings.  According to Adelaide, this is unfair and overly strict- this from the girl who had an emotional break down after reading Old Yeller.  I stand by my edicts... but can I just say how hard it is to tell her she can't read such good books?  One of the pleasures of our children getting older is when they finally reach the various maturity levels required for assorted novels, don't you think?

• Caedmon has been talking an awful lot about prison lately.  It's a trifle worrisome.  Even Atticus commented on it the other day:  "Caedmon, why are you always putting your Lego guys in jail?"  He runs around the house, talking about all the different people he's just put in jail (usually "bad guys," but not always), he talks about who he would call with his one phone call (he asked me what would happen if he were ever put in jail, and between fingerprinting and the one phone call my knowledge of incarceration was exhausted), he builds little jails out of Legos.  I am comforted by his statement the other day- "I'm going to be a police officer when I'm an adult!"- because that's less worrisome than just about any alternative outcome to all this imaginary play.

• Atticus has been doing this a lot lately:

I'll be making supper, folding laundry, reading, whatever, then turn around and find the business end of a foam sword pointed at my chest.  I'm not sure what to make of it.

Caedmon, of course, wants to do whatever Atticus is doing, so he tries to mimic his big brother.

He has trouble keeping the smile off his face when he's doing it, however.  I wonder how that will translate to his life as an upholder of the law.  And yes, they are both wearing beach towels as capes.

The end.

Three Things...

...about potty training.

(No, this is not one of those potty training posts.)

• Potty training anyone after your first child is such a breeze.  Well, relatively speaking.  With Adelaide, I felt this incredible pressure to get her potty trained a) immediately after she turned 2, and b) before Atticus was born, which gave me a five month window to do so.  I didn't feel nearly as much pressure with Atticus (aka I didn't really care), and now with Caedmon I feel even less (I seriously don't care).  I know he'll get potty trained.  At some point.  Eventually.  But at this point the whole two-steps-forward-one-step-back process that is toilet training flusters and frustrates me a whole lot less than it did five years ago.  Or maybe I've just gotten uncomfortably used to cleaning up messes made up of human bodily fluids.  

• Potty chairs were not made for off-the-growth-charts-sized kids.  This may not seem like a big deal, but believe you-me, when you're the one potty training a giant preschooler, it starts to feel like a bona fide crisis.  (It also feels like you're practically bathing in vinegar and water and soap.)

• Atticus has been hugely helpful in keeping Cade entertained while the younger one spends long stretches of time attempting to take care of business.  Atticus mans the laptop and starfall.com (I'm not a big advocate of screen time of any kind- tv's, computers, tablets, whatever- for small children, but I do let the boys do Starfall a couple times a week; I like it because it teaches them letter recognition, letter sounds, and simple phonics, the boys like it because it's fun), and they take turns picking letters to learn about.  It's worked out so well, you might think I planned it this way, potty training Cade the week before Atticus starts preschool so I can get the former into underwear and the latter can brush up on his letters before school, but in reality yesterday afternoon I said something like, "Let's try that new Pinterest recipe tonight.  Oh, and start potty training!"  (Supper ended up being delicious, in case you were wondering.)  I feel like I do these things and God deadpans, "Oh, goody.  Another chance to cause something to work for good.  Thanks again, Kristy."

You're welcome, God.  You're welcome.

A List

• Derek and I went to a wedding Saturday afternoon.  The ceremony was in a lovely Lutheran church that filled me with all kinds of childhood nostalgia but that also wasn't air conditioned.  Now, it's been a remarkably mild summer up here, but this past week we finally turned on our own air conditioning because temps have been in the 90's and it's crazy humid.  The wedding programs were fashioned into fans (something we did at our wedding, because we got married in Oklahoma in July, which is a great thing to do if you want your fancy wedding finery to be crispy with salt and dried sweat forever and ever amen), which I appreciated, but more than anything I felt so bad for the bride and groom.  It was (praise Jesus) a short service, but watching him in that dark tuxedo and her in that heavy, multi-layered (and quite beautiful) dress with full hair and make-up done, of course, I kept waiting for one of them to pass out, especially during the one song that was performed toward the end of the service.  The pastor obviously had thoughts aligning with my own, as he grabbed two program-fans and fanned the soon-to-be-newlyweds while we all listened to two girls sing a duet about love or faithfulness or something.  At a wedding!  Imagine that.

• I spent Saturday evening watching Doctor Who and binge eating Oreos.  I told this to an extroverted friend the next day.  She looked at me in sympathy while I tried to explain that, "No, that really is a pretty ideal Saturday night for me."  Five minutes of insisting later and she still didn't believe I wouldn't rather have been at the big social gathering she attended.  *shudder*

• The boys make up new names for themselves on a daily basis, but Caedmon's has been pretty consistent over the past few weeks.  There have been a number of times that we've been out somewhere, he's engaged a stranger in conversation (that kid is so outgoing I would question whether or not we're related if I hadn't, you know, kind of been there for his birth), and at some point or another they've asked, "So what's your name?"  And every time his answer has been, "Batman."  He then looks at them with confusion mingled with disapproval when they laugh.  I think maybe it's the laughter that prompts his monologue about how "I can kill this many *holds up ten fingers* bad guys with my Batman powers" and other specific points that I'm pretty sure to his mind proves that he is, in fact, Batman.

• I recently discovered a meme that has probably been around for a long time but is completely new to me.  It's called the Socially Awkward Penguin, and I identify with it so strongly it's disturbing.  What's further disturbing is that I showed it to Derek and he went so far as to say that I am the Socially Awkward Penguin.  No idea what I'm talking about?  Here are a few examples:

      

      

       

Me, me, me, me, me, me.  Super.

List

I've been kind of a bad blogger lately, haven't I?  Does it count if I've composed countless posts in my head, if not actually on the blog?  Because if it does, then I'm actually an awesome blogger.

How about I do a half-hearted attempt at a post and make yet another list, then tomorrow come back and write a real post?

• I walked upstairs toward the end of naptime the other day and found this:

Caedmon had snuck into the bathroom, crawled in the sink, then got stuck.  I have no idea how long he was in there; I had been outside trimming trees for the last hour and a half.  He now has a baby gate in his doorway at naptime.  He likes to curl his fingers around the bars and peer forlornly at me as I walk away from him.  It makes me feel a little bad for him.  Not bad enough to let him stay up, of course.  Don't let his sweet face fool you- that kid's an operator.

• We finally made it to Ledges State Park the other day.  We all had a terrific time, in part because Cade enjoys being mothered by pretty girls, and our friend Adi is the consummate 7 year old mother.

• My coneflowers are blooming, as is the cactus my grandparents gave me.

I know I keep harping on about it, but I just cannot believe all I had to do was lay that thing on the ground and it's thriving.  [Insert related self-deprecating comment on my parenting style that I'm too tired to come up with here.  Sorry guys, it's a bring-your-own-jokes kind of night.]  Note that I "planted" said cactus at the entrance to the rabbits' burrow under the shed.  I was hoping the little demons would get stuck and die slow, painful deaths, but then a little childhood fable began to trickle through my head... something about... Brier Rabbit?  Briar Rabbit?  Br'er Rabbit?  Anyone want to enlighten me?  Am I completely making this up?

• I got my first cherry tomatoes of the year last week.  Two of 'em.  There's a whole bunch out there right now that hopefully I'll remember to pick tomorrow morning.  

Did I ever tell you I forced myself to like tomatoes?  In college I decided that it was high time I started eating tomatoes, so I'd make myself eat them every couple months.  As I progressed through my twenties I upped it to once every month, then every few weeks, until finally my taste buds surrendered or my brain cracked and I really did like them.  Only took me ten years!

• I still like taking photos of my children while they're asleep.  I don't know what this means.

Atticus was actually hanging off the couch, and was supporting some of his weight with the leg on the floor for a whole hour while he napped.  I tell you what, even unconscious that kid is weird.  He either looks like a corpse or his entire body is covered in heavy blankets- including his head and face- with just his bare feet sticking out.  I always feel like I should be divining some deeper meaning behind these unusual sleeping positions.  

• I get to see both my sisters and their families this weekend, including this lady:

Steph.  Beffer.  Stepha-roonie.  The Steph-meister.  Shteffer-Beffer.

Is it just my family, or do all youngest siblings have a million nicknames?

• And something to make you smile:

35 Facts About Mr. Rogers

Books!

Rather than updating the Books page (which I just can't bear to delete, but also can't bring myself to spend time updating on a regular basis when I could be, you know, actually reading.  Paradox!), I'm going to give you a list (yay, a list!) of some of the books I've recently read.  I'm not going to bother with full reviews of each one (why?  Because that would be uber-time-consuming; again, paradox), but rather give a sentence or two sharing my opinion of the book.  Like a drive-by book review.  Each title will be a link to the book's Barnes and Noble listing in case you're actually interested in it and want a legitimate summary.


Warning:  I will by no means be listing all the books I've read lately, but this could still end up being a rather lengthy post.  You might want to go get a snack first.  Or just stop reading now.

Here is Where: Discovering America's Great Forgotten History by Andrew Carroll

Great read, fascinating little tidbits of history (hey, did you know the inventor of Cruise Control was blind?).  Each mini-story is around 5-7 pages long, and while the author threads them all together well, they can also stand alone, enabling you to read a couple a day for your fun history fix.












7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess by Jen Hatmaker

If I could force you to read any one book on this list, this would be it.  So good.  So funny.  Will so mess you up.














Where'd You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple

This book is simply hysterical.  Hilarious.  There is some cursing, so if that bothers you, you may want to skip this one.  I have to recommend it, though; I haven't seen such terrific humor in a novel in a long time, and despite its imperfections, has a fun storyline.  Read it if you need a laugh or a lighthearted piece of fiction.














Olive Kitteridge by Elizabeth Strout

Winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.  As such, it's incredibly well-written, but it's also really dark.  May cause you to lose your faith in humanity.  I've been really frustrated lately by how hard it is to find fiction that's both well-written, yet contains even a spark of light.  I kind of recommend this.











The World's Strongest Librarian: A Memoir of Tourette's, Faith, Strength, and the Power of Family by Josh Hanagarne

This guy.  He has severe Tourette's, lifts weights to help him control it, and became a librarian in the enormous Salt Lake City Public Library precisely because of how challenging it would be to work in a library while in the throes of Tourette's (but also because he loves books).  Brutally honest, will make you decide to never ever complain about your life again.  You should read it.









Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail by Cheryl Strayed


I loved the crazy accounts and have immense respect for Ms. Strayed for just how difficult this hike sounded.  Only problem:  I'm not entirely sure I'd actually like her in real life.  I guess it's a good thing I just read her book, then.











I'll Be Seeing You by Suzanne Hayes and Loretta Nyhan

Letters back and forth between two WWII soldiers' wives.  Touching.  Beautiful.  Makes you think about how you would behave and cope if your own spouse were off fighting a desperately dangerous war.  Read it.












Splendors and Glooms by Laura Amy Schlitz

Dark but fascinating YA fiction.  I read it because I thought it might be a good read for Adelaide.  I ultimately decided against it for her- she's not quite ready for some of the content- but I really enjoyed it.













Kisses From Katie: A Story of Relentless Love and Redemption by Katie J. Davis with Beth Clark

Will make you want to move to Africa and adopt 30 impoverished orphans.  Or, barring that, look for ways to serve God however you can in your own life.  Inspiring and important.  Please, please read this.












Yes, Chef:  A Memoir by Marcus Samuelsson

A boy from Ethiopia is adopted with his sister into a loving home in Sweden.  Works his way up a brutal professional ladder to become a world-famous chef.  It's as interesting as it sounds, but if you're like me, will leave you feeling conflicted over how you feel about the author himself.













The Wilder Life:  My Adventures in the Lost World of Little House on the Prairie by Wendy McClure

I don't know.  I had high hopes for this book.  I love the whole Little House series, and so expected to read this and then want to be BFF's with Wendy (because of course we'd be on a first-name basis), but then... I just don't know.  It wasn't that it wasn't well-written, and I loved reading the parts about how she tried churning her own butter and traveling all over to see Laura Ingalls Wilder-related sites, but somehow... again, I don't know.  Maybe it was that she was a touch too introspective about the whole thing?  Or maybe it was that I didn't seem to agree with a ton of her personal views, and while that isn't always a game-changer, it seemed to be in this book.  I'd probably need to read it again to pinpoint just what bothered me so much about the whole thing, but there's no way I'd waste time doing that.









Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

This book is wildly popular right now; it's very well-done and hard to put down, but if you don't like books where you hate the main characters, this is not the book for you.  Trust me.














Deeply Odd by Dean Koontz

I believe this is the second-to-last book in the Odd Thomas series (which if you haven't started reading, then I just don't know what's wrong with you), and it was wonderful.  You fall more in love with the characters, grow more intrigued by the overall mystery of the series, and will not be able to wait for the promised last book in the series that will pleeeeaaaase God answer all those delightful questions that have been building up for years.









Seriously, if you're still reading, you deserve some kind of medal.  Or at least a cookie, which is often better than a medal anyway.