Faking It

In the past month I have crammed a ton of Christmas related activities into my family’s free time in an attempt to bolster our spirits and make this holiday one to remember.

We made ornaments, bought presents for each other, bought presents for children we don’t know, decorated our home, watched movies, sang carols at the top of our lungs in the car, attended multiple concerts and programs at area churches, toured neighborhoods known for their garish light displays, and went to parties, parades, and festivals.

Yet last night as I hurriedly drove to get to another festival it hit me — I am faking it. I am faking having a Christmas spirit. You could put an army of elves on shelves and have the Sugar Plumb Fairy dance straight through my front door and though I would smile and enjoy the show, deep down I would know it’s all a facade.

Realizing that I’m faking it, I discussed it with my husband and we decided to pass on the festival planned for the night and enjoy a night in instead. It was so restorative to eat dinner around the table as a family, talk about the day each of us had, and snuggle with the kids on the couch for the evening.

As we snuggled, I started to think of what that first Christmas must have been like when Mary snuggled with her baby. Cold. Dark. Quiet. Simple.

Sure, I had Christmas spirit, but it was anything but simple. In my attempt to create a holiday to remember I distracted myself from what the true Christmas spirit really is.

The true Christmas spirit doesn't end on December 26. It isn't identified by red and green decorations. It is living out the character of Christ all year long. It is "...standing firm in one spirit, with one mind striving together for the faith of the gospel." (Philippians 1:27 NASB)

One Spirit. One mind. Together.

If there was ever time to stand together in our faith it is now. This world is terribly broken. I can only imagine what it would be like if everyone would embrace true Christmas spirit and lived it out everyday of their life. I'm going to try.

GF Oven Fried Onions (great for green bean casserole) - SUCCESS!

I'm sure it isn't news to any readers that I'm weird. To confirm that, I'm devoting this post to my joy over onions.

Thanksgiving dinner was one of my favorite meals to make...until I could no longer eat gluten.

My first Thanksgiving I tried to go with nontraditional recipes. Red quinoa pilaf instead of stuffing, caramelized green beans and shallots instead of green bean casserole, and pumpkin pie with a graham cracker crust instead of the traditional dough crust. The recipes were tasty but my family, guests, and I all preferred the good old standbys.

Last year I went back to the traditional foods with gluten free substitutions, including purchased GF pie crusts and stuffing made with a couple loaves of GF bread.

I also tried to make one of my faves, green bean casserole, GF friendly. Instead of cream of mushroom soup I made a roux with butter and GF flour then added milk and simmered till I had the desired amount and thickness. However, frying my own onions turned into an epic, messy fail. I hate to fry anything and the charred bits of onion I had proved my disdain.

This year as Thanksgiving was approaching I started to search for recipes for GF French fried onions. Everything I found online suggested the same method of frying on the stove or using a baked onion ring snack that rhymes with bunion, which doesn't appeal to me.

Then last week as I was making oven baked chicken parmesan for my family it hit me...bake the onions! Tonight I tried it and, to my absolute delight, it worked.

So, though many of you who read this don't have to eat GF, I wanted to share. It can also be used with regular wheat flour if you want to avoid the chemicals and preservatives you get with purchased fried onions.

1/3 cup GF all purpose flour
1 tsp salt
4 medium onions
1/2 cup milk
3 Tbls olive oil

Preheat oven 450°. Place flour and salt in large zip top plastic bag and mix well. Slice onions in half then into 1/8" slices. Separate the onion layers and soak in milk for 5 minutes tossing often to coat. Drain off the milk and place the onions in with the flour. Zip close and shake well to coat. Drizzle half of the oil onto a jelly roll pan. Spread the oil around so the pan is well coated. Spread the onions on the pan in an even layer. Drizzle the remaining oil on top. Bake for 20-30 minutes. Flip the onions every 5 minutes and remove once golden brown. Place on paper towels to absorb excess oil. Use just like purchased fried onions.

I can't wait to chow down on some green bean casserole!

Notes to My Younger Self

I feel old. This is a new feeling for me. I knew it would happen to me some day, but I was still surprised when the feeling sunk in. It was triggered by turning 36.

(Okay cynics; go ahead and get the “Only 36? Wait till ____!” out of your system before you continue to read.)

How did I get here so fast? I knew the bench mark birthdays—16, 18, 21, 30, 40, 65— would be significant, but 36 surprised me. I think it is because 36 is twice as old as 18 and I am a much different person now than I was then. I turned 18 my freshman year of college. I had a plan for my life. However, God had other plans and here I am, 18 years later, living a life I never could have dreamed up on my own. Thank you, God!

However, I have to admit that I wish I could go back and redo some things. Nothing major, but it would have been nice to have my life’s Cliff’s Notes on occasion. So the following is just that—notes to my younger self.
_______________________________________________________________________________

Dear 3-inch-tall-bangs-Rugby-shirt-wearing-female-embodiment-of-Napoleon-Dynamite-Mandy,

You are in the midst of one of the most explosive identity crisis periods of your life. The high school/college environment can be cruel. Below are a few tips I hope you will take to heart during this exciting time.

• Just wear clothes, not outfits. The time and money you spent on putting together the MC Hammer pants with matching suspenders was creative, but it is gone for good and you will never wear that outfit again.
• It’s okay to say “I don’t know.” Nobody likes a know-it-all, especially one who improvises.
• Your brothers are your friends. You are likely to lose touch with the friends you have today, but you will always have your brothers.
• Don’t play the mean girls game. Just ignore it. Don’t perpetuate it either.
• You don’t always have to lead. Learn to follow, too.
• Try new things.
• Your first job will likely be your favorite job ever. Do it well and be thankful for it.
• Wear sunscreen and moisturizer—always.
• Every decision you make will effect at least one other person. Think of others first.
• At your age, boys aren’t worth the fuss. You won’t find the man of your dreams until you are content with yourself. (And wow, is he awesome!)
• Wear your retainer after your braces come off.
• Your parents are your biggest fans not your biggest enemies. Practice humility and let them be your fans. The decisions they make regarding your school/friends/activities are the best decisions for you. After all, they were your age once, too.
• Don’t rush your childhood. You only get to be a kid once. It is all over as soon as you cross over into grown-up territory. And yes, at 13-18 you are still a child.
• Don’t be in such a rush to get out of your hometown. You will miss it, your family, and friends.
• You know that feeling you get that God wants more from you? It’s real. Don’t ignore it. The sooner you give him more the fuller your life will be.

Love,
No-bangs-t-shirt-wearing-still-the-female-embodiment-of-Napoleon-Dynamite-Mandy

Lucy

Photo by Elle-Emme-Be Photography

Today my baby girl turns 3 so today's post is all about her.

“Lucy” means light and though we had the name picked out even before her older brother was born, I don’t think there is another name more fitting for her. She is truly illuminating—from her almost permanent grin and accompanying dimples, to the sprightly way she walks, to the improvised songs she sings to herself. I find it hard to not smile when I think of her.

She is also our dare devil. Our kids share a room and we have contemplated moving them from their toddler beds to bunk beds. But Lucy’s courageous spirit causes us to pause. She would be the one to clothespin a towel to her shirt and attempt to “fly” off the top bunk. I envy her moxy. I was that kid who climbed to the highest tower at the pool but was too afraid to jump.

Though she is only 3 years old, Lucy has taught me so much:

• Sometimes you just gotta dance.
• If you get hurt, seek comfort, calm down, and then get over it.
• Skipping is a lot more fun than walking.
• Get as many hugs and kisses you can each day.
• The science behind airplanes is fascinating. Nothing that big should fly.
• Your brother is and will be your closest friend. Treasure him.
• Always have your lovey within reach.
• It doesn’t matter if your clothes match or even fit right. If you wear them with confidence then you’re well-dressed.
• Food is better if it is experienced, not just eaten.
• Snuggle time is mandatory.

Photo by Elle-Emme-Be Photography

I am so thankful God has blessed us with Lucy. She is an incredible gift. 

“Children are a gift from the LORD;
they are a reward from him.” 

Psalm 127:3

Though I do not feel worthy of such reward, I thank God often for it.

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Vintage

This morning I got ready for work in my normal hurried routine—shower, get dressed, drink a cup of coffee while I do my hair and makeup, brush teeth, put on my shoes and jewelry, grab my lunch and travel mug, and out the door.

I didn't think much about it, but when I did my jewelry step I grabbed a petite necklace with a small charm on it. It is gold with a peach-toned glass flower, similar to a geranium.
My gram gave me the necklace when I visited my grandparents at 21. She told me she received it when she was in her early 20s. I don't remember who gave it to her though.

Later in the day one of my coworkers commented on it and asked me if it was vintage. I smiled and said "yes" then returned to my office, smiling as I mulled over the word "vintage." I never thought of my gram as vintage. However, upon looking it up in the dictionary I found several definitions and one in particular really stood out—"characterized by excellence, maturity, and enduring appeal; classic." That was my gram! Enduring appeal. Classic.

I miss her so much. I know we will one day be together again but that knowledge doesn't fill the void. I didn't get enough time.

Not having enough time is a big part of the reason why I've taken a month+ from this blog. I've written plenty, but didn't post any of it. It was all too personal or left me too vulnerable. But they all had a common theme of not having enough time with the ones I love and not appreciating the little time we do have together to develop vintage relationships.

So there's no aha message, no inspiration, or no morale of the story to this post. Just a bit of encouragement...  

• Savor every moment with the ones you love.
• Take advantage of living in the same time zone, area code, or zip code.
• Teach your children the value and preciousness of older generations.
• Teens, your parents are not your enemies, obey them. (You will understand in 10 years.)
• There is nothing like a family dinner at the dining table—whether you dine on PBJ sandwiches or prime rib.
• Praise God always, when you laugh together and cry together.
• Strive to be vintage.

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What I Learned From Day 2 of Our Roadtrip

1. It is hilarious to pee on mommy...twice

2. Forget Obamacare, Micah thinks corndogs are outright unconstitutional
   
3. Rumblestrips sound like farts to toddlers
   
4. Crying because you want your sister to stop crying will yield cookies
   
5. It is entirely possible for a 2 year old to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star for 30+ minutes, including at least a dozen different arrangements
   
6. No matter how hard I try to fight it, everytime I pull up to my parents house after a long time away I get teary
   

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Near Misses

The kids and I, along with my dad, set off today for our roadtrip to my hometown of Seward, NE. Unfortunately, my husband has to stay home because he is teaching summer school.

I'll spare you any boringdetails of pit stops and how soon it took for one of the kids to ask "are we there yet?"

I do want to share how much we appreciate your prayers of safety and how thankful I am for God's perfect timing and protection.
  
The trip was relatively uneventful until we stopped for dinner in Cross Lanes, WV, a small community west of Charleston. As soon as we ordered our food and sat down a storm rolled in. It got super dark outside and the lights in the restaurant kept going out. Normally I don't mind storms. In fact, I kind of dig them. Ever since I was a kid, storms have reminded me of God's awesone power. 

When he thunders, the waters in the heavens roar; he makes clouds rise from the ends of the earth. He sends lightning with the rain and brings out the wind from his storehouses. Jeremiah 51:16 NIV

However, I have a tendency to feed off of other people's energy and emotions--a characteristic of a classic extrovert. As the storm got stronger other diners began to voice concern. The family sitting next to us grabbed their food and hurried to their car, an older couple started speculating that it was a tornado, and a young girl started to whimper. This started to make me nervous but I did what I could to keep myself and the kids calm.

As we started to munch on our tacos I asked Dad if he thought we should leave. He assured me that staying put was much safer. I pulled out my phone and checked the weather. There was only a severe storm warning, no tornado.

About a minute later there was a huge bang on the window behind me. As I looked outside, white chunks of something were falling down. At first I thought it was hail, but then someone in the restaurant said that the sign broke. I assumed it was a sign on the side of the resataurant and we went back to eating. 

Twenty minutes later the storm passed and we decided to hit the road again. As we walked to the car we discovered what actually hit the building. It was the sign from the gas station nextdoor. In it's original form I guess it was a 10-foot square and likely made of plexiglass. It was mounted roughy 100' feet off the ground so I guess a strong enough wind just popped it out of it's mounting.  

Once we were seated in the car we looked at the restaurant and saw the damage the sign had created. It tore up the roof directly above where we were sitting. Looking at the damage, Dad estimated that the sign was 250-300 pounds. If it had hit just 8-10 feet lower it would have broken through the window we were sitting against. I hate to think of what injuries it could have caused.

But God is sovereign, he is so good, and his timing is perfect.  We had contemplated stopping later for dinner but then we would have been caught in the storm while driving. He made that gust of wind strong enough to carry the sign a few feet higher. He made it possible for my dad to join us on this trip. He also made RainX possible and gave my husband the skills of masterfully applying to my windshield.

This bit of excitement in our trip makes me wonder about all the near misses and storms God has kept me sheltered from that I have been oblivious to. I'm a little embarrassed that it took a literal storm to make me take pause and praise him.

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