Sunday, April 13, 2014

Answer Me This

Linking up with Kendra today at Catholic All Year because she's my old buddy from LA and because I like her blog and because I like blog posts that write themselves especially when I've been in a bit of a blogging dessert, so here we go.



1. What time do you prefer to go to Mass?

In Lent we tend to find ourselves at Saturday vigil Masses. Jacob ALWAYS gives up alcohol and sweets for Lent which basically means I do too, and since Jacob is a Letter of the Law type, we go to Mass on Saturdays so we can start our feasting early. Because Saturdays without beer are kind of more like Sadurdays (Get it? Get it? 100% for you, honey)



But my preferred Mass is the 11am. An 11am Mass means that we don't have to rush breakfast and we can maybe even be on time. Also, our couple crush goes to the 11am, so that's another reason.

2. Would you rather be too hot or too cold?

I would have to say hot, so long as I am somewhere like Houston with really great A/C. 


My dear friend from college has a very smart grandmother (who with her husband basically started the Core at University of Dallas, so Smart Smart) said that the hottest she ever was was in Boston in the summer and the coldest she ever was was Florida in the winter. Tell me that doesn't blow your mind.


3. How many brothers and/or sisters do you have?

Four. Three brothers and a sister. They're awesome and I could talk about them all day.


My dad's mother had sixteen brothers and sisters though, which is a lot more than four. 



I snapped that picture of a picture at her house last week. This is sixteen of my great grandparents' eighteen children. One died when he was two before my grandmother - middle row, second from the right - was even born. She was number 13. She was named June because she was born in June and didn't get a middle name. Number 12 - Ralph - is not in the picture up there because he was the one boy who died in the war. My great-grandmother had seven sons in the war. Seven. Legend has it she got a medal from the president. My Nana June and her brother Ralph were super close. She still has the last letter he ever wrote. He wrote it in a foxhole. He wrote it to her.  

Uncle Otto - top row, third from the left - didn't make the photo so they left a hole for him and drew him in. Clever clever pre-Picasa.

4. If you were faced with a boggart, what would it turn into?

This isn't a very fun question. Probably a judge. Judges are very scary. The whole legal authority to require things of me or take things away from me. Or maybe I just can't stand getting in trouble.  

5. Barbie: thumbs up or thumbs down?

I played with Barbies a lot as a little girl - by myself in my room and sometimes at a specific friend's house - but I was embarrassed about it, and I still kind of am. I think that answers the question. 

6. If someone asked you to give them a random piece of advice, what would you say?


Learn to be wrong at least sometimes because chances are you're wrong a lot. (Said me to myself.)


Friday, April 4, 2014

7QT: Huckle Cat and other Adult Concerns

The kiddos have stuffy noses and a cough so I'm going to have to keep these short: little sleep, little blog.
- 1 -
Most days Jake will only cooperate with me if I refer to him as Huckle Cat, myself as Ms. Honey Bear, and Lucy June as Lowly Worm. Thank's, Rich. 

- 2 -
Jake's a pretty good little eater. He eats pretty much everything except salad greens and sweet peppers, and he'll still try those without a fight whenever we prompt him. I'm pretty proud of his palate, but as he gets older he's making it increasingly clear that he would always rather be eating plain sliced sandwich bread. 


- 3 -
I feel like this move to Houston has catapulted me into the concerns of adulthood. Instead of spending leisure time reading about the latest health food craze or sinking into the couch with some post-apocalyptic teen fiction, I read about dollar cost averages. I think that makes me less cool. But I suppose that's up for debate. 


- 4 -
The more I read about money management, the more I realize how far I am from being an organized mature adult. Contrary to expectation, it didn't happen the moment our landlord passed us the keys to an actual house to live in. (No more garages for us!

I still hate HATE making any kind of official phone calls. I am not on a cleaning schedule. I never sort the mail, opting instead to encourage my dependence on catch-alls. I don't get dressed every day. I'm actually regressing. A couple weeks ago I cut four inches off my own hair, just like I did with my bestie when I was six: we were in her parents' closet and hid all the evidence in her mother's shoes. Except this time I used a youtube video that was posted by a nineteen year old, so yeah, I've come a long way. 

- 6 -

Take Entitled: Since Moving into a House 


My kitchen is approximately three times bigger than any kitchen I've had in my adulthood, and I  grew into it in approximately 48 hours. Now I complain about having to take actual steps while unloading the dishwasher.

Jacob and I still speak as if we can hear what the other is saying no matter where the other person is in the house. And we almost can. So we try again only louder.  

Despite many promises to the contrary, the yard was messy with toys five minutes after we moved in. It is messy today. It will be messy tomorrow. 

- 5 -
Lucy June loves her brother.




For the most part




- 7 -
Also, we've been kicking the can on ordering new bees since we lost both our hives before leaving California. But it looks like we're getting some attention out by the box so keep your fingers crossed. 



Maybe I should put out another sign.

Happy weekend, friends!!

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

The Husband's Favorite Kitchen Items

So today I'm copycatting myself and posting Jacob's favorite of our kitchen items to Hallie's Link Up.

When we first started dating, Jacob and I couldn't be in the kitchen together without arguing. All of the kids in Jacob's family grew up experimenting in the kitchen. He was very comfortable at the stove; he'd toss in new ingredients and skip others and had that obnoxious disdain for recipes that Recipe Followers like myself have trouble appreciating. At one point we had a rule that only one of us was allowed in the kitchen at any given time. Either he was cooking or I was cooking. Neither of us were very proud of this development, but it probably saved our relationship.

The root of the problem: Jacob was a better cook than I was. He experimented in the kitchen and the food he made was delicious. I knew how to make my mother's chili and my mother's chicken and dumplings and that's about where my prowess ceased. Part of me loved that Jacob was a good cook, but the other part of me found it infuriating, especially when his culinary knowhow would skulk about my shoulder while I was trying my hand at the stove. I remember when he made me a dish that I didn't like. It was some type of pasta, and he'd thrown in a spice that didn't do the dish any favors. I ate his failed pasta with such relish because it proved that Jacob Augustine Rhodes wasn't flawless in the kitchen and maybe we could get married after all.

Five years of marriage later and we've matured into a nice and traditional "Wife does 90%" of the cooking, I frequently ask him to taste test, and kitchen fights are a thing of the past.

Cutting this long story not quite so long, here are Jacob's five favorite kitchen items, or at least the five kitchen items he responded with when I quizzed him this morning.

- 1 -
Jacob wanted this lid so much he bought it for me for Christmas and opened it for me two weeks early. It finds its way onto the stove whenever he's in the kitchen. It's admittedly very handy.
- 2 -
We are blender people. The blender we got when we first married was a classy looking thing that smelled a little like burning rubber whenever we used it. We knew we wanted a nice blender, and we soon found ourselves on the frontlines of the great Blendtec vs. Vitamix debate. We picked the Vitamix because we preferred the control panel - Blendtec's is digital - and the tamper is sort of indispensable with the kind of smoothies we tend to make. We've had ours for about a year and a half, and we use it multiple times a day.

They're pretty cost prohibitive, but they have great warranties and you can buy Certified Refurbished Vitamixes that are less expensive.

- 3 -

I'm actually surprised that I forgot this when I put up my kitchen favorites. I grew fond of these in Europe, and we got one for our wedding. It got a lot of use when Jakeboy started solids since he was on a pretty deliberate little baby diet called What Mom & Dad Are Eating All Mashed Up. I'm pretty sure Jacob likes it because of it's associations with Butternut Squash Bisque. 

- 4 -

 
When I first eschewed paper towels I wasn't very formal about it. I had a bag of old rags mixed in with our nice dish towels and our napkins, and this "system" drove Jacob crazy. So we bought some bar mop towels that now sit in a nice stack under our sink, can be used for all household messes, and get thrown straight into a laundry basket whenever they've reached their limits.

- 5 -
Looking around Kitchen. Glances at Liquor Cabinet: 
Does Alcohol Count?

Sure, babe.

What are your significant other's favorite things in your kitchen?

>> <<

Well I have to run away and read some Little House in the Big Woods with the little man.

Me: let's read the one about the sugar snow and the dance at grandpa's.
Jake: I think we could just read about the bear and Pa gets his toenail ripped off.  

Monday, March 31, 2014

Spotted: Empathetic Toddler

Over the weekend my parents were in town and life was full of people and energy. My dad and I went on a long jog. It was a relaxed run for Mr. Boston since he's nursing a bursitis, but it was still about twice as far as I've run in a year. He pushed the double stroller, otherwise I would've been toast. I cooked in the kitchen with my mother. My folks brought us German Pretzels from my hometown bakery. Jacob and my brother had a little breather from work, and my other brother spent most of the weekend at our place too. At one point in the weekend's energy somebody broke something, one of the sweet little Anthropologie bowls Jacob bought me on my birthday. I don't really know how it happened, but it accidentally got knocked off the counter. The sound of breaking glass silenced the room, and little Jake peered over the counter onto the floor at the mess of porcelain shards.

Jake (alarmed): Oh, no! Can you fix it?
I shook my head.
Jake (deeply concerned): Was it one of your birthday bowls?
I nodded.
Jake (lip quivering): Was it special?



So much of my life is spent running interference, steering Jake in better directions, getting him involved in good things, scheduling our lives around meltdown o'clock. He's started hitting me. If he's mad when I'm putting him into his car seat, I have to watch out not to get kicked in the face. You know: life with a willful, demanding almost three year old. But peppered into the hard parts of parenting are these kinds of moments, the kind of moments that make you willing to break all your birthday bowls.

Friday, March 28, 2014

7QT: Running, Kids Say the Darndest, and DIY Diaper Cream

- 1 -
Thanks for the encouragement on Wednesday's post. The succulents I planted are still alive which is impressive in this house. I tend to kill succulents faster than they would die naturally if you dumped them out.

- 2 -
I've finally gotten my jog back on. I want to train for the Congress Avenue Mile in Austin, but I tend to get injured whenever I train for races. I can jog and jog and jog but as soon as I think the words "training plan," I swear an old injury will start twinging.

Kallah posted her injury proof running plan. For my runner readers (especially those with experience jumping back into running postpartum): what do you do to avoid injury?

- 3 -
Jake is seeming so much older to me. I suppose having a second baby will do that to a mother.



The other day he was outside arguing with his imaginary friend about who's turn it was.

When I hug him, he's taken to patting my head and saying: "You're a good girl, mama."

He fake laughs a lot, basically whenever we laugh about something he fake laughs and then asks, "Excuse me, Papa, why is that funny?"

I can't tell if this means he's destined for comedy or decidedly NOT destined for comedy.

- 4 -
But older seeming or not he still mispronounces things - and mispronunciations are among the best parts of parenting.

And though it's been a long time since we've used "bluebabies" or "strawbabies" in our fruit smoothies, and "roghut" may now be a more correct if laborious "yooohgerrt," no, Jake, this is Mass, this is not a "bathtizing."

- 5 -
Lucy June is ever still a mama's girl. This is still the best and worst thing about my life.



I suppose that's why God made every phase of parenting so temporary.

- 6 -
We're about to run out of my favorite diaper cream
I got outfitted with it via baby showers when Jake was born and I LOVE it, but now that I need to replace it, I'm royally balking at the price. $9.00 an ounce!?! That's like $4.50 per tablespoon!?

I'm a bit of a DIY for better or worse type, so I thought I'd give it a try.

The two main ingredients are olive oil and beeswax, and since my babies really aren't that rashy, I decided to make do with just those two and skip the fancy calendula-type stuff. I didn't intend to make very much of it, but my ratio was very off at the beginning, and as I attempted to save my efforts, my batch kept getting bigger and bigger until I had a cup and a half of the stuff.

My rookie efforts were pretty messy. Simply melting the ingredients together didn't get me the consistency I wanted, so I kept graduating my mixing tools from spoon to fork to whisk to immersion blender. Ultimately, I was left with a usable product that seems like it will work almost as well my beloved diaper cream...and enough of it to last until Lucy June turns 12.

- 7 -
The experience prompted the age old question:

Happy Fish Day! Visit Jen's for more takes.


Tuesday, March 25, 2014

The Angelus

We certainly are only scratching at the surface of liturgical living around here. Here's some daily bread for you:

Jake: Is it Lent or is it Easter?
Me: It's Lent.
Jake: (cries)

Catechesis? Check.

Neither Jacob nor I grew up Catholic. So this life of feasts and fasts doesn't feel very organic. The culture at large helps with the big ones like Christmas and Easter, but the lesser known ones - like today's Feast of the Annunciation - don't feel natural to me. At least not yet. They sneak up on me, and I encounter them via some social media outlet, and I fumble out a celebration like a person who missed the joke. I want to fill my children's lives with all the loveliness of the Church's traditions, and I want those traditions to feel as if they'd grown right up out of the earth, but so far my efforts have looked more like a mom directing a stilted pageant of hot cross buns.

I guess I want our family faith life to feel like this:

I made this for Jacob one Christmas because, in addition to the Angelus being a favorite prayer of his, this is one of his favorite paintings. Side by side this couple labors, and together they interrupt their ordinary and set aside their tools, he takes off his hat, she clasps her hands, and they speak Mary's blessed words anew.

This morning I conquered my distaste for leaving the house alone, and I trucked me and the littles to Goodwill so I could score some makeshift planters for my succulents, the succulents that I bought last week so we could finally get some Lenten desert up in our house. Up until this morning they were sitting in a clump on our kitchen table, still in their black plastic cups.




 Instead of letting yet another feast day pass us by - instead of losing yet another opportunity in the fuss of "what shall we do?" and "how can it be perfect?" - today we did something beautiful.

Today we said yes to something beautiful.





I also said yes to a second cup of coffee when my toddler skipped his nap this afternoon. That was a good idea too.

Sunday, March 23, 2014

Thank you, World.

This morning was a tough one. We woke up to two needy babies and had to change our Mass plans last minute because we were running late.

Thank you, Jacob, for getting both kids ready so I could take a real shower.

Mass was trying. Lucy June is moving into a squealing phase, and we got fenced into the middle of a pew, so I lost my easy exit. I was tired after a late and much interrupted night. My lower back was hurting, and I was getting no reprieve as I walked my baby in the back of the church. I didn't really get to hear the homily and I hardly could focus on the readings, but I want to say thank you to some people who I will remember.

Thank you to the couple in our pew who I had to scoot past eight different times with a screeching five month old. You welcomed me every time I came back in hopes that maybe this time the baby would be quiet, only to be stepping on your toes on my way back out just minutes later. You didn't make me feel bad at all because you were awesome.

Thank you to the grandmotherly woman who caught my eye as I walked the babe in the back of church. Thank you for looking at me. So many people look at my kids - and I love that and all - but you looked at me, and your knowing smile spoke such encouragement.

We've made a Sunday morning ritual of going to Boomtown Coffee after Mass. Up until recently we'd been frequenting the coffee bar at Whole Foods because it was close and the latte was surprisingly good. It also has a great pastry selection and a fish tank that Jake can look at while sitting in the cart with a steering wheel in it, so: kid friendly. But it isn't the coffee shop experience (which I still haven't been able to let go of even though I'm a frumpy mom.)

Enter Boomtown. It's not in our neck of the woods, but the espresso is delicious. It's in a part of Houston that has a Portland vibe. Urban adorable. I kind of hate that I love it.

You did right by us today, Boomtown.

Thank you, barista, for making me such a perfect latte. It's Lent and all, so I'm down to once a week for this deliciousness, and, buddy, you came through.

Thank you to the man who was such a champ when Jake ran into your elbow and caused you to spill your coffee in your lap. He was just a little too excited about his straw, and you got that. I pegged you as such a trendy Joe enjoying your usual four shot latte at this chic coffee shop, but you surprised me and became a hero. You wouldn't let me get you another coffee. You even made jokes and laughed good-naturedly when I offered to buy you a cookie because I thought you were six years old or something.

Thank you, Lucy June for staying marginally happy in your car seat so I could snuggle back into the couch and hold my latte with two hands for a few minutes. You're awesome sauce.



And thank you, Jakeboy, for asking while waiting for my caffeine hit in the looong line:

"Do Boomtowns have potties?" 

You really bailed me out, kid.