Remember when I made almond milk and posted a recipe on the blog for you all, oh, almost a year ago? Well I told you to save the leftover almond pulp, so you can go ahead and pull it out of the freezer because I'm coming through with a raw cookie recipe for you just like I said I would.

Jacob and I eat pretty well. I love starting from scratch, like grinding my own wheat berries scratch. I love the long road of fermentation. Processed food consumption is so far from my radar, I forget it exists. We eat a veggie-centric diet accented by pastured dairy and meats and soured grains and sprouted quinoa...you get the picture. I have all kinds of opinions about eating that I mostly keep off this blog because I find soap-boxing about that kind of thing very annoying. I'm not a nutritionist nor a scientist, and thus feel I have little authority when it comes to diet advice. So you're welcome.

But one of the food philosophies that I will divulge today is that I am (almost morally) opposed to cheater foods: like diet sodas and anything sweetened with artificial sugars. I'm a purist when it comes to sweets. And my purism is this: when you eat sugar, eat it. Own it. And eat it.

If you put Sweet'n'Low in your coffee, I will still love you. Mostly because I probably won't notice because I'm kind of oblivious, and if I did notice and you saw me notice, I'd probably get drastic and go delete the above paragraph from my blog now that I realize you read it AND you use fake sugar because I'm mortally afraid of coming across as judgmental. Fyoof. Ok. Moving on.

Despite being all granola, I'm also against when "health" foods dress up like ice-cream sandwiches or some such. But I will now be giving you recipe for a "healthy dessert" that will fly in the face of that pet peeve.

I'm consistent like that. Always.

I compromise with my no-faux dessert rule in this specific situation because the frugalista in me is huge, I don't really understand it, but I'm pretty sure it's something deep. Like gene-deep. Like I would have to watch out for hoarder tendencies if I wasn't equally obsessed with not accumulating things in the first place, but now I'm getting distracted because the point, the POINT, is that I would probably have a heart-attack if you made that almond milk recipe and then threw away the pulp. I'm twitching just typing that.

With a little more adieu, I will tell you that these are about what you'd expect: not that amazing. The almond milk is utterly delicious, and consequently I will keep on making these in the aftermath. And Jake thinks they're as good a "tookie" as any, and I sneak them all day long and skip the Klondikes, so there's that.

Coconut Chocolate Almond Pulp Cookies

1 c. almond pulp (left over from making two batches of Almond Milk)
1 c. dried shredded coconut
1 T. Chia seeds
2 T. Cocoa Powder (this is a guess because I do half cocoa and half carob...because well...yeah)
2-3 T. Coconut Oil
3 T. Maple Syrup

Mix all the ingredients together. If it's warm you might need to refrigerate the dough for awhile before you attempt to work with it. Form into little balls and roll in more shredded coconut. Flatten them down or don't, it's up to you, but DEFINITELY freeze them and position them between you and the ice cream. And you're done in a jif.



Or maybe a toddler is helping you and it will take a very long time. 

Honestly, I've made so many variations on this recipe, I feel weird nailing it down. There are so many places you could go instead: peanut butter chocolate chip cookie dough bites being an excellent option. I pretty much just guessed on ALL those proportions up there and I encourage you to do the same.

There. Aren't you happy you visited The Rhodes Log today now that you're one mediocre recipe richer? I thought so.

7 Quick Takes

- 1 -

I've had a gloriously relaxing week. Jake's naps have been long and so have his nights. The garden is growing and the yard is peppered with pink bougainvillea petals. The jacarandas are blooming all over. The promise of a move in the nearish future keeps me from committing to any house projects, or any other projects, or anything at all really except trying to see friends before we skip town forever.  So life has been pretty much entirely comprised of minor housework and Pinterest. 

- 2 - 

Pinterest has an entirely new appeal now that house ownership in the next couple years isn't a pipe dream but a probability. The thought of owning a place and renovating it and decorating it and doing whatever I want to it, literally keeps me awake at night with excitement. It's pretty much all Jacob and I ever talk about.  My recent obsession can basically be summarized by the walls and ceilings of this place.

His recent obsession is along the lines of tiny houses. Tiny as in:

Tiny as in: load it up on your trailer and park it at the sunset.

- 3 -

If you've been reading this blog for a long time now you probably remember that my husband comes from Mennonite stock. Old-order Mennonites. The horse'n'buggy, no electricity, Pennsylvania Dutch type. I haven't written about it much because I keep thinking one of these days I'll do a whole series on it since it is indeed such a big part of Jacob's history. I'd explain the whole situation: how Jacob's dad ran away as a teenager, how Jacob's mom up and moved the kids back when they were in high school for a year, how it's possible to have triple digit cousins, etc, etc. And perhaps I will someday, but I'm always intimidated away by how the road of Jacob's childhood is a forest of relocating and tent-living and gurus and meditation domes because Jacob was raised by a hippy.

- 4 -

I know this because I read through a buzzfeed of 29 Signs You Were Raised by Hippies (Beware any link with "Hippies" in the title will always sport some naked people. Be warned today and everyday after.) and they were all pretty much spot on. I even called to him in the next room while I was reading it and asked:

"Honey, do you know who Buckminster Fuller is?"

And he replied in a deliciously ironic you've-got-to-be-kidding me tone: "Um...yeah..."

- 5 -

So the last two takes got me all kinds of distracted because the REASON I started talking about the Mennonites in the first place was because of the house-buying possibility. Jacob has a dream that involves getting us some land and chartering a bus and bringing all his cousins down for a good old fashioned barn raising.

It will be a party of beards and suspenders and some weird iced "tea" that tastes like peppermint but apparently isn't.

- 6 -

So the Jake-ster has moved into imaginative play. He will call a screw a horse and run it around the coffee table. Meal time ends with him and his crumbs in some type of circus. Everything - including everyone Jake knows - "falls down in the ocean" at least once a day. The kid is going through some type of growth spurt and his appetite has doubled since we got back from Texas. He eats more than me and (consequently) his little sister combined. Eating is great and all, but the diaper situation is out of control: we're talking 3-4 bombs a day, people. TMI? Probably. But this mom has got to mom-vent somewhere. He also answers all his own requests for things: "Oatmeal? Yeah? OK." And nods.

- 7 -

The other day Jake was in the bathroom while his dad was getting out of the shower when I heard him say this:

"Papa's butt...Papa's butt...Papa's BIG butt!"

It pretty much made my life. (And lucky you if you're reading these takes early because I'm almost sure Jacob will make me delete it as soon as he reads the post.)

Now feel free to go back through this post and edit out the overabundance of adverbs and then have an awesome holiday weekend. See you at Jenn's!

Late to the Bloglovin' Plunge

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

I couldn't manage a fancy button, so a link will have to suffice.

See you with some Takes soon because it's Friday and I'm joining the party even if Uncle John still has our good camera and I'll be mining the iPhone for photos.

7 Quick Takes

- 1 -

We've been all over and back since I last posted on the blog. We had family in town. I finished school. Little man and I were in Kansas City and Wichita and visiting the folks in the TX Hill Country where Jacob joined us. We've made some big decisions. But here are some iPhone snapshots and some good memories from the past weeks and a couple pieces of news.

- 2 -

First things first: I'm done teaching, and for the foreseeable future I'm joining the ranks of SAHMs. This is beyond exciting to me. I've only ever worked part-time but it was enough to stress me out and I'm very ready to test the waters of home-dom. My students were all very sweet at the end. One even bought a present for the baby - and professors don't often get presents so I was giddy over it.

- 3 -

Jake and I got to spend a weekend with my sweet goddaughter
 

when we went to my friend Mary's wedding which was pretty much perfect in all ways. The sweetest service and homily (which I got to sit through AND enjoy because I was all-adult and got a babysitter for my not so Mass-friendly little man) and reception. Chatting with old dear friends that I mostly only see at events like this. I also met the bride's sister-in-law, the illustrious Mrs. Patton herself, and even managed to track her down for a chat which was awesome...but since I've been mildly obsessed with her blog for pushing three years now, I did feel kind of like a nine year old meeting a high school cheerleader.

- 4 -

After Wichita we moseyed on down Texas-way and spent a week with my family. One of my brothers and my sister were home the whole time and my older brother decided he'd come down for the weekend after he saw a picture of Jake on my mother's instagram  and realized we were in town (we're GREAT communicators). So four of the five were home for Mother's Day which is probably the best showing since...2007?

- 5 -

Here's some less than impressive photographic evidence of the visit.

Swinging with the great G

Reading with "Aunt-uh Leelee"

Blurry picture of us watching things like this:

fall from the sky.

California ain't got nothing on Texas thunderstorms, y'all.

Jake's precious (?) camera-smile after being reunited with his dad after a week.

- 6 -

On the bigger news front is the fact that The R Log is moving its homebase. Baby #2 was a bit of a game changer since it ousted me from the college adjunct workforce in the fall. One salary doesn't quite cut it for us in the big LA. So we had to make some decisions. And a work opportunity came up for Jacob in Houston, and so come July we're saying goodbye to the land of movie stars and relocating to the fattest city in America.

We ultimately want to settle closer to my family in the Austin area, so Houston will probably just be a couple year stepping stone, but I'm more than excited. If only for this reason and that reason  - two VERY dear friends in the area. And the blogger in me is excited for this reason even though she probably has no idea who I am, but I've been stalkerishly obsessed with her older daughter's hair for a couple years now.

- 7 -

The other bit of news is that we scored an ultrasound in my parents' clinic and found out that we're balancing the scales this fall because Jake is having a LITTLE SISTER! Pink and ribbons be mine.

And that, my friends, is all my news. Happy Friday. Head on over to my soon to be neighbor for more takes. 

"We have to dress up, and the entire cast and crew will be there."

As promised yesterday, I'm back for an unprecedented two days in a row of posting.

Last night thanks to an insider friend blah blah blah, Jacob and I got to go see the premiere of Netflix's new season of Arrested Development.

We've done some semi-glamorous things in Hollywood in our years here. Back when Jacob worked for Jerry Bruckheimer we constantly found ourselves at CSI wrap parties where I still managed to enjoy the buffet despite constantly making a fool of myself because I didn't recognize any of the cast.

We got to go to cast and crew screenings of this piece of cinematic genius

and this feat of fantasy

More recently with Jacob's new company we were invited to the premiere of this

 

where I caught sight of all kinds of teen starlets, but unfortunately Emma and Jeremy didn't make the trip across the Atlantic consequently missing all the dry ice fountains at the Roosevelt after party.

...I think you get the picture...

Enter last night where we get the chance to go see the premiere of one of my all time favorite shows. If you made it to the post quickly enough yesterday you know we got to see two episodes of the new season. I  had to update the post to edit out that info because, immediately after I clicked Publish, Jacob forwarded me this email:



Bet you didn't realize how "enterprising" the R Log was...

Anyhow it was awesome. Though my pics weren't. Here's a blurry picture of the cast.



That's Jessica Walter in the pink. Pretty much as close I got to her, sorry Jessie.

And another picture of...an ostrich.
 


We got to see Patton Oswalt (If you have ANY geek tendencies at all and 8 free minutes you should do yourself a favor and watch this clip.) and lots of other nifty people.

I loved the episodes. Jacob says he was a little disappointed - which I suppose I should tell you so you don't get your hopes way way up - I however hardly remember if I liked them because I was too busy maintaining the stupidest grin on my face.

May 26. 

Feast of St. Phillip Neri, patron saint of joy and humorists, 

and 

ADvent (forgive me) of Season 4.

We await you.

Nursery Rhymes, Nuptials, and Never Nudes

I'm sitting in my office now. I probably should be tallying grades or doing something productive because Oh! Productivity! I need you to be mine this week. But no. I'm becoming strangely nostalgic about teaching and so I turn to ye old blog.

My last day to teach is Wednesday. And then little October Baby has me taking a break from the working world for the foreseeable future. I haven't felt a twinge of emotion about my four years of LMU ending until today.

The end of the semester marks the time when my students come in and recite poetry.

This delights me so much I can hardly talk about it. They come in like little poems themselves, tense and nervous, wiping sweaty palms on pant legs. They start in on their fourteen-liners and stutter and falter through the first couple stanzas until they can see the end at which point they start going a little faster and fall more easily into the cadence of the poem. Then they finish. And they smile. And off they go feeling proud. I feel like I've given them something. Something very real.

I will however NOT be feeling nostalgic on Wednesday when I'm grading. Grading is miserable. Period.

We've been busy bees as of late. I've been mostly coming out of pregnancy nausea but dealing with lots of end of semester details which leaves me dead tired. So Jacob is still doing all the housework, and we're watching too much Diego and Super Why.

We traveled to Texas the weekend before last for my little brother's biggest of big days. The wedding was everything that is lovely. 

I watched my brother marry the most beautiful of brides under a giant oak tree, and I couldn't have been happier. Commence photo dumb:

He's 6'5" and she's obviously no shortie. They make SUCH a striking couple.

Be jealous that your nieces won't get that hair.

My little sister reading like a boss.

My almost 93 year old grandmother cutting a rug with my father.

In other and also very good news. My little man has FINALLY become a hugger which has been perhaps my favorite milestone yet.

Encouraging the groom on his big day.

Now to wrap up, I could tell you how a piece of firewood fell over on Jake's foot yesterday and ROYALLY mangled his poor little toddler toe. Or I could tell you how he had a major blow out at my non-parent-friend's dinner party the other night with nary a diaper in sight. OR I could give a slew of other stories that would immortalize my recent less-than-impressive-parenting, and they would all be so at home on this blog.

But I won't. 

Instead I'll tell you to sit tight and pray that I update you tomorrow because guess where I'll be tonight?

I will be at the premier of this show at the Chinese Theater and sitting next to Michael Cera. 

(Fine. That last part is a lie, but the rest is true. True. TRUE! Don't hate me too much, Bluth fans.)

Sicky McSickerson

I've really enjoyed all your sweet comments on my last post. We're truly stoked about this pregnancy. Or let's say we're truly stoked about this baby because so far the pregnancy has been pretty miserable for the parents involved.

I didn't manage to start this blog until my nausea cleared in my last pregnancy, so aren't you in for a treat that for the next four weeks you get to here me complain all the time? Good thing I'll probably only blog about three times...

You see I'm VERY bad at pregnancy for the first 16 weeks or so. I sleep poorly, I'm utterly exhausted, I'm mildly sick 80% of the time and completely incapacitated about 20% of the time, mostly in the evenings when my sweet husband gets home to a trashed house, a half-diapered toddler, and spoiling food in the fridge. I live on the couch. I dry heave, I throw up, I cry a lot.

This pregnancy is mildly better than the last but the added toddler trumps that fact. (But who am I kidding, Jake has basically been adopted by Diego and a little kinkachoo.)

This is his "Diego time?" face with strawberries on it.

Sigh. Still reading? Well it gets better. But it gets worse first.

I did discover something interesting about myself though when I was on the phone with a friend discussing the horrors of early pregnancy. She was talking about how annoying it is when you hear of that person who has absolutely no morning sickness whatsoever, and I realized I have no bad feelings toward those moms-to-be at all.

 I thought this was SO remarkable. When I hear of someone who is having an easy time of it I'm GLAD for them. When my friends get pregnant, I pray that they will avoid the holy hell that the first 3 (4? 5?) months can be. So there I was on the phone feeling completely magnanimous about my lack of hard feelings...when I realized...there was a catch. I have all the grace in the world for someone who is nausea-free until they attribute it to one of their lifestyle habits and then I start raging inside.

I'm not talking about the mom who's been sick with previous pregnancies and found something that helped her. No. She's my hero.

I'm talking about the Lucky Lucy who never had any issues whatsoever and thinks it's because she's vegan or has a really strong constitution or has never touched alcohol. The woman who believes she somehow nipped it in the bud with her general awesomeness. The woman who has the gumption to offer this wisdom when you've just spilled your guts (literally?) about your own struggle with the big 1st T.

But seriously? How am I supposed to respond?

"Vegan? What a great idea! I'll try that as soon as I can eat anything besides turkey meatballs and gummy bears."

"...Yes...It's not so surprising how sick I've been, because I'm, well, sickly in general."

"You know you're right. This does feel strangely similar to all those nights of binge drinking in college."

Sensitive much, Kate? Simmer down.

Ok. Ok. Let's try to get a little positive.

I have learned some things. Some good things. None of them are groundbreaking, but all of them are hard lessons for people like me to learn.

Cut yourself some slack. Go to the store and buy some frozen dinners and canned soup. Practice feeling indifferent to piles of laundry, dishes, and ungraded papers. And if you're me and you're kind of obnoxiously concerned about conservation, get over yourself and buy some ziplocks and paper towels for crying out loud. 

Don't feel guilty. Not exercising? Don't feel guilty. Not getting all those folate-rich greens and throwing up your prenatals? Don't feel guilty. All you can think about is beer? Have some and don't feel guilty.

Let yourself be helped. Whether that help is a friend who offers to bring dinner or watch your kid. Whether that help is in the way of extra phone dates with a friend or a sister because you need to be distracted away from how gross your stomach feels and your floor looks. Whether that help is Neftlix to carry you and/or your little person through the harder times.

If you find something that works for you, go with it. Try every zaney ginger tincture, epsom salt bath, and magnesium oil massage. There's comfort in pursuit of your magic cure, I promise. Try any diet change you can stomach. Eat a box of saltines. (Or if you're me today: a mountain of whipped cream and strawberries.)

And finally. This is the hardest one for me. Say thank you to your husband for picking up all the slack. Let him know how grateful you are. You might be surprised at how far appreciation goes. And let him love you even when you feel awful about yourself. When he tells you you're beautiful even if he's wrong and the mirror knows it, don't contradict him. Just let him be right. Just let him be right this once.