Rejoicing and Complaining

This morning I had an "Ah-Ha!" moment. I love those moments. I thought I would share this one.

I decided to read my Bible while feeding my son this morning. I am in Philippians 3. I would love to be all high and mighty and just say Philippians so you might think I read a couple chapters at a time. But I am committed to being real here. I read just one; sometimes half of one; sometimes none. I often read while I breastfeed because I have to sit (or at least it's a really good idea to sit, ha!). God gets my first feeding of the day. Sometimes, when I am up extra early He gets me reading His Words without a kid attached to me.

Anyways, sorry for that aside, I just felt the need to make sure you knew the person you are reading. I may be many things; but I am definitely going to be REAL. So here's the "Ah-Ha" moment:

"Whatever happens, my dear brothers and sisters, rejoice in the Lord. I never get tired of telling you these things, and I do it to safeguard your faith." Philippians 3:1

As I read this, I am not going to lie, I suffered from what I am going to call "eye-glaze syndrome." My eyes glaze over sometimes when I read. My brain wanders; my eyes scan the words, but I forget to actually read them. So this morning I missed the first sentence, but then I got to "I do it to safeguard your faith" and I realize I have no idea what it is Paul, the author, does to safeguard the Philippians faith. So I went back and re-read it, and this time make it a point to actually read the words. "Rejoice in the Lord." Paul tells the church at Philippi that rejoicing in the Lord safeguards their faith.

(By the way, this revelation is brought to you because of my "eye-glaze syndrome." I may have missed the simple truth I am about to share had I not needed to go back and reread it. So whatever your short-comings are; know that God can use them =])

Rejoicing in the Lord safeguards our faith. I looked up the word safeguard in the original Greek and it means to keep our faith unable to fail. So, the opposite of this statement would also be true: complaining causes our faith to fail.

Ouch!

Paul knew that if the Philippians kept complaining and kept a negative attitude, they would lose their faith. He must have been really concerned for them because he tells them 4 times in one letter to rejoice in the Lord. I think he was almost a bit obnoxious about it too: "Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say rejoice!" Philippians 4:4. Apparently the Philippians needed it pounded into their skulls.

I think I do too.

I think of the pair of my husband's chonies I pick off the bathroom floor EVERYDAY because he never remembers to put them in the laundry bin. I think of the pieces of food I pick off the floor because my daughter is not only a picky eater, but she also plays with the things she will not eat. Our house is almost fully carpeted save but the bathroom and kitchen and I gripe about that too as I clean up the food in the dining area, because I also have to scrub the mess out of the carpet. I think of long lines, stupid drivers, crowded parking lots, bad weather, bills, messes, and the crayon I left out that my daughter found and used to create her latest artwork on the wall. I think of the stairs I climb everyday with a baby in a car seat in one hand, trash from the car in the other hand, the diaper bag on my back, and the daughter in front of me that acts like she doesn't understand the simple instruction, "Go up the stairs" especially if she manages to find a lady bug or snail nearby. I begin to think of the serious complaints: the job losses, the miscarriage, and the stuff I am afraid to type because I desperately fear it happening to me and worry that you are perhaps going through it or have already gone through it and, though I may try, I just simply cannot relate.

Complaining: it's really easy to do and wealth of subject matter to do it over.

But, according to the Bible, it kills our Faith.

And, according to Limp Bizkit (whatever, they were totally cool...), you "gotta have faith."

Faith fills our deepest of hopes and the dreams we barely dare to mention with the substance to happen. Faith gives us the wings to fly over difficult circumstances. It's the navigation system in the crazy storms. It gives us a reason to live. Faith gives our lives purpose. It makes us want to be better and do more good. It is one thing that actually SHOULD define us. It keeps us from getting lost in the crowd; from getting lost behind the million things a mom needs to do, and from feeling like the K-mart blue-light special rather than a unique and special one-of-a-kind garment. Faith is precious. Faith is guaranteed to, alongside hope and love, last beyond death into eternity. Faith (I almost even hesitate to write this because I know someone may be reading this going through or having gone through something so difficult or painful) keeps us from blaming God or others for our struggles and difficulties.

You gotta have faith.

Rejoicing grows it. Complaining kills it.

I think I better remember to Rejoice.

I shall rejoice in the underwear I pick up off the floor for they are evidence that I have a man who works hard, loves me, and showers daily (can I get a "woot woot" for good hygiene here?!). I shall rejoice in the food my daughter puts on the floor for I have been blessed with two beautiful kids and food to feed them with. I will practice ignoring irritations or laughing through them. I may even choose the longest line and call a friend, pull out my phone to check my Facebook, or sing silly songs with my kids, and remember that I have money in my checking account whereby to buy the things I stand in that line for.  I will choose to think about the time I had something or someone rather than that I lost them. I will know that a miscarriage will never let me forget how precious and miraculous life really is. Instead of trying to explain the loss, I will rejoice that I got to hold for but a moment the unexplainable mystery and treasure of life. In difficulties, I will dig deep into my faith and trust that it will all work out someway, someday. I will think back on the difficult times and be thankful for the strength I acquired through them and the miracles I got to see because of them. I do not have all the answers and really no matter how much my human brain would like to make sense of things... sometimes they just don't make sense and that's okay. That's what faith is for.




Assignment: Because I would love to know you better and because I think it could be fun and maybe even funny, I would LOVE for you to write in the comments "a rejoice through a complaint" statement. Men are welcome to chime in too. And... even though this entire post is pretty much a rejoicing through complaints, I will start us off. =]

Keep Pressing!

After having brought 2 children into the world and coming to terms with the “fluffier” state my body was now in, I decided I had complained enough about my weight; now it was time for action. I decided to take up running. I have always loved running. There is just nothing quite like the feeling of going somewhere with your own two feet, nothing attached to you (except for a couple extra pounds, hence the running). It's just you and nature. It's your willpower up against your bodies limitations. I hadn't ran in at least 4 years, and after bringing 2 children into the world... out of shape is a severe understatement. Not only were me and “shape” not in the same town, we probably were not even in the same hemisphere! So, with the greatest of intentions and full of weightloss hope, I started running. First day... not so bad. I got farther than I thought I would be able to, according to my car, 0.7 miles of solid jogging (you better believe I went back and checked the distance!). Second day... all right. My body was stiff, and it was much harder than day one, but I did it. Third day... somebody shoot me because I am going to die! I think I got the length of block, I am guessing 0.1 miles maybe, and my entire body gave out on me. Sore muscles, stiff joints, and stomach ready to hurl. Alright, so I realized my dream of a tight figure and becoming “Fitness Woman,” was going to be much harder to achieve than I had realized.

The process of getting back into shape and the exercise of running got me thinking. Every long distance runner knows this secret: Endorphins. The word endorphin literally means “the morphine within.” Very simply, endorphins are a chemical the body makes when it is put under a great deal of physical stress or pain; it “raises the pain threshold.”1 When you run, your body reaches a certain point when it must begin to push through soreness, stiffness, fatigue, cramping, pain... (depending on how out of shape you are this may happen 3 miles in or it may be tragically instantaneous). A wise runner knows when to stop and rest, walk a bit, or drink some water and when to keep pressing onward. As the difficulty of the run is pressed through, something amazing happens... a new found source of energy and strength wells up... the runner has wings! Endorphins!

If you don't happen to be a runner, but have brought a child into this world naturally, then you too have most likely experienced endorphins. You see, when you should have passed out from the sheer exhaustion of shoving something the size of a watermelon (also lovingly referred to as a baby) out a hole the size of a grapefruit (fully dilated to a 10) and instead of exhaustion, you felt this overwhelming sense of euphoria, excitement and wonder over the miracle of life and the triumph of overcoming to bring something so precious into this world... yep, you experienced endorphins. Gotta love those things!

Okay, so I really don't want to actually talk about endorphins, and I am no marathon runner or trainer. But, I have been through some grueling times as life seems to be famous for. Motherhood, particularly beginning when Addy turned 2, has brought and will continue to bring challenges. I just survived 9 months of potty training—and that doesn't count the time when we just had the potty chair and talked about poo-poo and pee-pee and where it should go. No, I am talking about 9 months of panties and putting her on the potty daily. I have a feeling that's a long time, maybe not, but I really don't want to compare it with any other child's experience (so kindly keep your “poo-poo wonder child” stories to yourself! Ha!) My nine month potty-training marathon taught me to be consistent, taught me that sometimes you got to take a break especially when big sister is adjusting to baby brother and so is mommy, and taught me that sometimes you just got to keep pressing even when the OxyClean is almost out because it has been used on countless accidents and some “accidents” that you could swear weren't accidents at all but rather your strong-willed child exerting her will to go in her pants. (Can I just take a moment to say “Thank you OxyClean! You kept my house smell-free and stain-free through potty training!”?!)

It seems long distance running and child-rearing have a lot in common: they both take consistency to be successful and the art of pressing through difficulty, and, yes, sometimes the occasional rest is needed. I don't know about you but part of me wants to just claim to “need” to be in a state of rest all the time. Has anyone else noticed how in disciplining your child it is really you that seems to learn to be disciplined more than your child?!

But here's the thing, the reason I brought up endorphins: When I run, I always start off with some stretches and warm ups. I try to set myself up to be successful by making sure I am hydrated and ate the right food the meal prior. And when I start my run, eventually this out of practice girl has to dig deep. I run, and the cramps begin. I feel the shin splints. My knees ache. I try to keep at the same pace; sometimes I have to slow down. Sometimes my run looks more like a putter. But I press onward to my mark. I keep going. I don't give up. I know that eventually I will be in shape, and my mile will increase to 5 miles. I know that if I keep running eventually those God-given endorphins will flood my body and give me a new found energy to finish my race.

I think parenting can be a lot like running. We as parents need to warm our kids up to the changes we want/need to make in their behavior or routine. We as parents need to set ourselves up to be successful by making sure we get sleep, proper nutrition and time to ourselves. Addy refuses to nap most days, but I still mandate that she lay in her bed for one hour. She needs the quiet time; and so do I! We as parents need to expect parenting to be rough. Making sure my kids eat right is much more difficult than just running thru the drive-thru or turning to easy mac (not that I am saying never do this, just that perhaps everyday isn't the best idea). It is hard to get Addy to eat her vegetables, but nevertheless I enforce that one bite rule and keep enforcing it no matter how big the fit. Eventually we will arrive at the vegetables that she likes. I maintain that I am Mom; Dad is Dad; vegetables ARE good for you; and if you aren't willing to try your vegetables, you can take your time-out. I keep pressing.


I have heard this promise of the Bible quoted my whole life. In fact, I remember it verbatim, because I grew up singing it in a song.

“They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They will mount up on wings like an eagle. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.” -Isaiah 40:31

When I was contemplating endorphins, this verse just seemed to continuously run through my brain. Perhaps a crazy thought here: I think God is like endorphins. We press and press through the difficulties of life; and at the exact moment that we feel we can go no further, have given all we've got, we somehow manage to keep going. We are filled with a new-found energy. God gives us wings. The thing is, though, you gotta press through first. According to Isaiah, you gotta wait. By the way, I looked up the word wait in the original Hebrew. It means to “wait, look for, hope, expect.”2


So, girlfriend...

Keep pressing.
Keep pressing through temper tantrums, poo-poo accidents, sassy talking-back, vegetables spit onto the floor...

Don't give up. Don't just live with the things you know you need work on with your child.

Be consistent. Or at least start practicing at consistency.
Take a break if necessary. Pick one or two battles at a time.
Don't be lazy. Don't become complacent. Be the kind of parent you want to be.

Know that maybe every one else has it all together, but, at the very least, you and I do not. And that's okay. Love your kids, do your best and expect that God will fill you with the strength you need. Maybe not when you want it, but definitely at some point, in His perfect timing. You can expect that!



By the way, in case you are wondering. I am two months into my running routine. My running goal is now set at an attainable 2 times a week. I am now able to run 1 mile solid and I power walk another half mile. Sometimes I struggle to get out there. I just took a 2 week break unintentionally, because, well, life happened and I got lazy. But still I putter along. I shall do this! I can do this! I press forward!

Also, in case you are wondering, in the battle of food, I have successfully gotten Addy to decide she likes carrots and I have learned that if I puree squash and put it in homemade macraroni and cheese, she has no idea it's there. Shh... don't tell her. I have yet to convince her that anything green is worth eating. But still I putter along. I shall work at having healthy kids! I can be the woman of my house! I will rule my roost! I press forward!

One of my first attempts at getting Addy to eat her carrots. Silly face didn't work, but, after faithfully enforcing the one-bite rule on carrots for 3 months, she one day turns to me and says, "They're not too bad, Mom."




Thrive

This morning in the shower, I had an epiphany. (Is it just me, or do most "ah-ha!" moments seem to happen there?) While showering, I was able to put into one simple statement the purpose of this blog: "My Little Bit to go from JUST SURVIVING to THRIVING." This blog isn't about crafts or cooking or mommy tips, though this stuff is here; it's really about the little bit I do to Thrive. There's just nothing quite like knowing your purpose and being able to state it in one sentence. Thank you blogging for helping me find it!

A few hours after my epiphany, I was off to visit my parents. Accompanying me on the drive was Switchfoot's new album, Vice Verses. It is an AWESOME album. When the number 7 track came on, "Thrive," I felt like my mind had been read. I love it when a song can do that to you.


"I'm always close but I'm never enough
I'm always in line but I'm never in love
I get so down but I won't give up
I get slowed down but I won't give up

"Been fighting things that I can't see in
Like voices coming from the inside of me and
Like doing things I find hard to believe in
Am I myself or am I dreaming?

"I want to thrive not just survive."


I struggle with depression, laziness, and this overwhelming urge to throw the comforter over my head and go back to sleep because I worry I don't have what it takes to face the day. I worry that I'm not enough, that I don't have what it takes as a mom and wife to help my kids and husband flourish. I only have two hands and twenty four hours, and sometimes that just seems inadequate.

But I have determined in this heart of mine that I will not back down. I will not do the bare minimum. I will not just bathe my kids, brush their teeth, put whatever food into their stomach, and call it a day. I will not just tune out the things I don't care to deal with. I will not just have sex with my husband once every two weeks because I am tired and that's what psychologists say is the minimal amount needed to keep a marriage together. I will not throw myself into vices like alcohol,  television, or all the other ways a person can metaphorically throw the comforter over their head. I will not just survive.

I want to Thrive. Sure life is rough, and sometimes I haven't the slightest idea what the "right" thing to do is. Jobs fail, people suck, kids scream, bills are due every month, but I want to find the ways to Thrive. I want to make love. I want to enjoy my kids. I want to play my part in the molding and shaping of my children into the adults they were made to be. I want my cooking to taste good, and I want it to nourish my family. I want to create. I want to enjoy life. I want to triumph over difficulty. I want when God looks at me for Him to be able to say "Good job, Daughter!"

I am finding there's only a little bit of difference between surviving and thriving. It's the times of meditation, seizing the little teaching opportunities with my daughter, stopping long enough to dance with my daughter and "zerbil" on my son's tummy, waking up 2 hours before my kids do, making sure to run twice a week, planning a budget, and writing down my grocery list. It's an organized cupboard, a chat with a friend, my morning cup of coffee, a healthy treat, Saturday morning breakfast, and a project that saves me money and lets someone know they are loved.

I want to be a woman of purpose, full of love and grace. I want to thrive. I want my husband to thrive. I want my kids to thrive. And you know, I can say from experience that circumstances and checking accounts have nothing to do with thriving. I think thriving is a God-thing... my ability to thrive is directly related to my ability to depend on Him. I think thriving is a "carpe diem" kind of thing... seizing every moment and opportunity, good or bad, and searching, no matter how desperately, for the positive in it and the ways that I can teach my children (and myself) through it. I think thriving is a "making the most with what you've got" kind of thing... not looking at what you don't have, but looking at what you do have and working it into it's absolute best.

My favorite verse in the Bible is Hebrews 10:39. "We are not of those who shrink back... but of those who have faith and are saved." It's found in a letter written to arguably the most persecuted group of people, the Christian Jews. They were persecuted by the Romans and their fellow Jews. They experienced the loss of their possessions, insults from all sides, imprisonment, and sometimes torture and death. (Hmmm... and I have a hard time when my 3 year old goes number 2 in her pants...) And here they are told to not "shrink back," to not pull the comforter over their heads, to not just survive. 

So RISE UP Woman! Wake up. Pull off the comforter. Seize your day. Seize your opportunities. Do what you do to love others. Don't shrink back. Don't just survive. 

For you, woman, were made for so much more!

You were made to THRIVE!

Simple Kitchen/Dining Room Space Saver Ideas

I've only lived on my own for 6 years, but I feel like a small space expert. I suppose 2 years of only being able to call a bedroom and walk-in-closet your own as a family of 3 followed by 9 months in a 400 sq. ft. studio apartment will do that to a person.

My small spaces forced some creativity.

My most used kitchen tools in easy reach in a pretty vase.

My husband bought me flowers that came in the same vase two years in a row for my birthday. Of course, I noticed; but I did not care, because, honey, if you want to get me flowers I do not care if they come in the same vase every time. I rejoice in the thought!

On a side note, the second time I got this vase, I was teaching 5th/6th grade. My husband ordered a gerber daisy flower arrangement because this girl loves the friendliness and colorfulness of the gerber daisy (I think of Meg Ryan saying in You've Got Mail "Daisies are the friendliest flower" while stuffing kleenex into her robe). So the flower delivery guy comes into my classroom and delivers my flowers. I thank him and read my note. I am one happy girl, my students are "oooh-ing" and "aw-ing" and then 2 minutes later the flower delivery guy comes back in with another arrangement, this time a single rose arrangement. My very smart husband ordered the arrangement I love, then ordered the cheapest arrangement and had them make 2 deliveries. I was surprised and felt so loved! So, if for some odd reason a man reads this blog, take note: it takes a phone call to a flower shop and $39.95 to make a woman happy and an extra $14.95 to make that happy woman uncontainably overjoyous and thinking to herself what a find she has in her husband... not to mention thinking how she can thank him back... just saying. By the way, I never cared cared that it was the cheapest arrangement; most women won't.


While my sister was helping figure out how to configure my tiny studio apartment, we stumbled across the vases while unpacking and decided to use them to put my kitchen utensils in. Pretty and Functional. Sums up this idea and sums up the way I like my living spaces.


My cute little kitchen in the studio apartment we lived in. Love how the pops of color on the vases in my relatively monochromatic space make the kitchen fun and bright.

Pretty and Functional. Yup that's pretty much it. And the vases proved to be so pretty and so functional, I decided to keep them when I got a kitchen that actually had the drawer space to contain my spatulas.



The "Dining Room" in our studio apartment.

A Couple More Space Saving Freebies:

1. Place Dishes on shelves: Saves you cupboard space and keeps a small kitchen feeling open.

2. Large Cutting boards can easily turn a sink into an extra work surface. Ikea has a large one for only $10 if I remember correctly. (Pretty much, if you are going to be living in a small space, a trip to Ikea is very justifiable). This is also great if you have surprise company and dirty dishes in the sink. Plop that cutting board down over your sink, light a candle on top, and just like that your mess disappeared.

3. Think soothing and clean monocromatic color scheme with pops of color. Loved my subtle spa blue color in my apartment. I blew up some of my own pictures in black and white prints and placed them in matted frames for some personalized wall art. (Frames came from Ikea for really cheap and pictures were turned into black and white prints for really cheap at Walmart). Also, adding a couple of items in black help ground a space. (Notice what those black chairs do in the dining room picture... a couple of black items point out the ethereal-ness of the room. They actually help the room seem bigger.).

4. Kitchen Island. We refinished an old microwave table hidden in my parents garage and turned it into our island. It was perfect: storage underneath, work surface on top. We sanded the top and left it in it's wood finish (We just oiled it. You can purchase butcher block oil or just use some olive oil.) and spray painted the rest white.

5. A tall dining table that can double as a work space/island. Pull the chairs away and its an island, clear it off and add the chairs and its your dining room table.

6. The 21" oven/stove. We found ours off on craigslist for $50. Sure big meals were a little complicated (even though it has 4 burners, 4 large skillets will not fit at the same time); but it was the happy middle ground between no stove or a stove that prevented us from opening our refrigerator door.

7. Stacking Appliances. Microwaves have a great flat surface on top of them and since we had little counter space and the microwave and coffee pot were 2 appliances that we could not hide away in cupboards, we stacked them.

8. Never underestimate the power of a positive attitude! I called our small space our New York City Studio Apartment Adventure. Grant it, I could not be farther from New York City, but that attitude kept me reminded of the fact that I am not the only one hacking it out in a small space and that this really could be an adventure. No matter how thankful I was when we could leave, I absolutely cherish the time spent in that space. It was an adventure!

Exploring Creation

I decided since I have been thinking about home-schooling as a serious option for my kids schooling and since I can't afford preschool anyways, why not try out home preschooling.

I keep it pretty simple. Two days a week and however long it takes between taking care of a baby and keeping my daughter's attention. Surprisingly it takes 1 hour if Jedidiah naps the whole time and Adelaide is captivated. We go over the calendar, pray and say something we want to ask Jesus for and something we are thankful for, go over a letter, go over a number, do some goofy songs/exercises, eat a snack, and do something extra (a shape, color, explore something...).

Yesterday we learned about the number 7. And since there are 7 days to the creation and it was a gorgeous day, I decided our "something extra" was learning about creation. I grabbed the kids, the camera, and the stroller and we headed to the local park. Addy's assignment was to find things that God made. I held the camera, she clicked the button. It was great fun.

I love those moments when you as a mom have what you think is a great idea, you try it out, and your kid loves it and gets what you were hoping they would out of it. In this case: God made everything, God made it good, and we can enjoy exploring what God made. Success!

God made Addy

God made "bebe brudder"

God made butterflies...

...and flowers...

...large rocks...

...and tiny ants (and since you can't see the ants, bark on trees)...

...squirrels...

...huge trees that are great for looking at...

...and trees that are great for playing on...

...tiny little fishes

...and laugh-at-your-momma-while-she-freaks spiders...

...bugs that walk on water...

...and berries that your momma won't let you eat because they look dirty...

...more squirrels (because that is the most fascinating thing to my 3 year old)...

...and families of ducks (notice how they are swimming AWAY from us).

It was a super great time and a great way to do preschool yesterday, so I thought I would share.

It's All in the Details: "2 Minutes to Fabulousness Raspberry Syrup"

I sometimes wonder, if I were to die today, what would my kids, husband, and friends remember about me? Morbid thought, perhaps, but my legacy is important to me. I don't want them to remember the times my patience COMPLETELY ran out, or how if you get me a drink I can forget to be appreciative and instead get all anal-retentive about my ice-to-liquid ratio that varies depending on the beverage (I am quirky, what can I say?), or how sometimes I can be completely lazy when it comes to laundry (Not the cleaning-it or the folding-it part, for me, it's the putting-it-away part. Confession: Stacks of my folded laundry sometimes will sit on my dresser for 2-3 weeks at a time. Who needs drawers when you can just dig through a pile of clothes, right?). I want to be remembered for how I loved. A legacy of love--awe, *deep sigh*, sounds romantic and worth striving for. And, as I am sure is very apparent from this blog, one of the chief ways this girl expresses love is in her cooking.

Nothing says love quite like a Yummy Breakfast!


But one can only be so fabulous.

Sometimes out of necessity, this is my motto. I could run myself into the ground "pouring love" into my cooking. But one can only be so fabulous.

Fortunately, I think one only needs to be so fabulous. Love is in the details. The little bit extra. It's the extra that has the most potential to be remembered (unless of course you managed to set your food on fire or seriously over-salted it; in which case, sorry, that's what's getting remembered! But on a positive note, those are precious, great-for-a-few-laughs moments that family members will cherish forever. Kids/Husband/Friends all want to know you are HUMAN and make mistakes every now and then!). For example, I think of the women's conference I went to: women left raving about the details--things like the pretty menu sticker on their boxed lunch that in scrolled writing said what was inside and the small amount of homemade dill-cream cheese spread for their relatively simple turkey sandwich.

Little details!

So this girl takes really simple things and does something a little extra. In this case, I make boring, simple and best of all EASY Bisquick pancakes for breakfast, but I make a raspberry syrup to serve over it. Instantly Special Bisquick Pancakes (almost an oxymoron) with only two minutes of extra work.

My raspberry syrup says "Family, I love you!"


So here's my 2 Minutes to Fabulousness Raspberry Syrup:

By the way, this is easy. REALLY EASY. So easy I am almost embarrassed to think its worth being posted on a blog. But, you know, I have learned and as this blog post points out, one should never underestimate the power of raspberry syrup or the power of just a little bit extra. So if you are some kind of sauce guru/kitchen ninja, it might embarrass me for you to read further. However, if you are still learning how to get fabulous in your kitchen, please keep reading...

Take about a cup of raspberries (fresh or frozen). Wash them and Toss them into a sauce pan.

Add 2-3 tablespoons of sugar. (This is really based on your tastebuds. I add very little because I like my raspberries tart and I like a little regular syrup on my pancakes too.)

Add about 1/4 tsp of lemon zest. (Once again, this is based on your tastebuds... I love lemon zest in my raspberries so I tend to be very generous in my zesting.)



Heat over medium heat until it is bubbling.  I let mine bubble for half a minute or so. The longer it bubbles the thicker it will get and the more broken down the raspberries will get. So, once again this can be done to your preferences. I happen to like some raspberry chunks in a thin sauce.




That's is! Boom! Your done! This can be served on your Pancakes, waffles, fresh toast, or whatever else might please you. It can be served immediately or it can cool down a bit if you happen to have timing issues like me and have yet to master the art of each part of your meal being ready to serve at the same time.

Bisquik pancakes, 2 minutes to Fabulousness Raspberry Syrup, a sprinkling of powdered sugar for prettiness's sake, scrambled eggs and sausage. Happy Husband. Happy Kids. So, of course, Happy Mom.

Happy Cooking! Happy Loving! Happy Fabulousness! All wishes for you :)

The recipe in printable format:

2 Minutes to Fabulousness Raspberry Syrup

1 cup fresh or frozen raspberries
2-3 tbs granulated sugar
1/4 tsp lemon zest

1. Put raspberries, sugar and lemon zest into a sauce pan on medium heat.
2. Stir occasionally.
3. Heat untill bubbling. Turn off heat after 30 seconds.
4. Serve

Serves 4.

Ten Year High School Reunion: For Me, the Redefining of Beauty and Success

I guess I don't give my age much thought. In my mind, I'm young and have lots to learn. But, man, there's nothing quite like that 10 year high school reunion invitation to make you feel like you've aged. I'm not a teenager (even though I have been in this reality for 8 years now, for some reason this always shocks me), I'm not cute like I once was, I've gone to college, driven a few different cars, had a few jobs, got married, started a family... all in 10 years. Crazy what 10 years can do for a person!

Me at 16 or 17 with my Bahama Mama's. I am the bombshell in blue. :)

But then, at the same time, it's crazy what 10 years didn't do for this person. I discovered as the reunion approached that I still had these crazy ideas of what it means to be beautiful and successful... the same immature ones I had in high school. And it's not like I ever put these ideas into words. I rarely even took these ideas out to measure myself by them... but as I began to wonder what people would think of me tens years later, a wave of insecurity wanted to hurl itself over me.

Beauty is skinny; it's trendy; it's cute; it wears a size 4, weighs less than 120 lbs, and it's desirable by a great deal of young men; it has a tight physique and it is fresh and young without gray hair and wrinkles.  Um, yeah, if I can't change the definition of beauty, I definitely can not be beautiful!

Success has a college education, a job worthy of that education, and, in that job, promotions and a decent income; it drives a nice car; it owns it's own house and in that house it has bedrooms for each child and an extra room for guests and an office; and it has a husband and perfectly behaved children who potty-train at the age of 2. And while I have a husband and 2 kids I would not trade for the world, a college education, and cars that work; I can't help but want to say "I am a stay at home mom for now" or "I am just a stay at home mom" as though there was something wrong or second rate about it.

Every woman wants to be beautiful, desirable, and thought of by those closest to her as "enough." Everyone wants to feel accomplished and successful. But, and I could be crazy here, it seems our definitions are so "surface" and "immature." I don't want to go on a society and media rampage, but these definitions are so there and permeate through the radio, tv, internet and in just about every advertisement you see. And whether you were somehow able to fit yourself into these definitions, or if you had your hopes and dreams of success or beauty shattered early on by some terrible tragedy or just simply never could quite fit yourself into society's definition of these things; it's there. We all want it. We want to be beautiful. We want to be successful. We want to be that one of kind, strong, beautiful woman that is living on this planet with definite purpose.

Fortunately for me, before the reunion, I got to be a part of an amazing women's conference called "I Am Couture." Just the reminder I needed! I AM like that one of a kind, strong, valuable, beautiful, couture garment that has been designed with a definite purpose. I AM couture. But not because I am a size 4 or because I'm cute. And not because I have a long list of accomplishments or own a house. I am beautiful because, bottom line, God says I am, and my husband agreeing is just the icing on the cake. I am His masterpiece. I am created in His image. And quite frankly, I like what God says about me way better than Marie Claire and Vogue, so I think I will go with Him. I am successful because I live out the purpose God has for my life. I love and serve Him, my family, and others. I am Me, and, hot dang, I do ME better than anyone else.

Awesome Conference!

Strong! Amazing! Original!... ME!

And for my own benefit can I just place in cement that my wide hips are my badge of honor: I have brought children into this world. My fluffy belly is evidence of the life I once carried in it. My "gravity-stricken," over-sized boobs are the bounty of my children that I personally can nurture and strengthen. My newly forming wrinkles and size 10 woman figure are proof of a life being lived and wisdom being attained. My rented 1 1/2 bedroom apartment and lack of job that includes a paycheck is my glorious sacrifice to my children to stay home with them. But don't allow these things to define you, for perhaps, you were created with an entirely different purpose. This is ME. I hope you will be YOU!


So, I went to my reunion. I had a blast. I saw my "Bahama Mama's." Yep, I was totally a member of a silly group of girls complete with a name and plenty of inside jokes. That's right, we drove around in our "Ghetto V" looking for "Hot Sand and Happy Lotion" eating "2 am Doughnuts," "Christmas Treeing" unsuspecting houses, "Pulling Melvins," all the while bumping "Player's Holiday" on the radio. But to tell you what any of that means, I'd have to kill you first. HA! And you know what? It's fun to be a silly girl. We got out on that dance floor at the reunion and had our husbands in stitches with our ghetto-booty dancing and our ingenious moves like "Feeding the chickens," "Stacking it up," "Knocking on the door," and "Going Shopping."

Me (right) and one of my best girl friends dancing our cares away at the reunion.

The reunion proved the perfect opportunity to challenge myself to redefine beauty and success and just be happy in the skin I'm in. I am proud of myself! I made no apologies for the way I look or the way I choose to live my life. I didn't allow myself to compare myself with anyone else. And, you know what? I was pleasantly surprised to find a room full of nice people who had all changed themselves: who had changed their own definitions and who had been changed by 10 years of life (either that or they were too drunk to notice or care!)

Me and my handsome little gentleman before I had to part with him for the evening.



I have to give credit where credit is due. My pastor's wife (who along with a team put on the kick-butt conference "I AM COUTURE") constantly encourages me with talks of beauty redefined. The speakers at the conference, Lacey Brown and LaCinda Bloomfield, added to the thoughts that produced this blog. Captivating by Stacy and John Eldredge and Authentic Beauty by Leslie Ludy also instilled some of the ideas mentioned here (I STRONGLY recommend these reads!). And my friend Carey from whose facebook album I swooped the conference pictures. And while I am at giving credit, hello, God! and the Bible! and the awesome team of girls that put together a fun reunion weekend.