Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
One night a soldier looked up into the heavens and made a plea to God.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
All is pretty typical in the northern prairie of NoDak. Yep, pretty typical we now have a ground covered with that fluffy white stuff and it's cold. Break out the wool socks and flannel sheets.
Bit of useless information for you... Put flannel sheets on a child's bed and then flannel pj pants on an eight year old long legged lil munchkin and DO NOT expect him to go to sleep right away. You see there is this fascinating little thing called static electricity. Let me try and explain it the way my oldest little cowbaby did. "HEY MOM!!! didya know if move your legs fast and pull the sheet up it makes sparklers." giggle giggle giggle snort giggle.
Once again, I have that look on my face... that what the heck is this little fellow telling me. So of course I play it like I'm really not a dumb mom that doesn't have any idea what he's talking about. "I know, isn't it neat." what a generic comment but it's the best I could come up with considering I didn't have any idea what he's talking about, he's talking and I hear him but it's not combining with any known knowledge in my brain.
Come on I'm the woman who freaked herself out because I went to bed with a glow in the dark band-aid on my big toe and woke up in the middle of the night staring and kinda freaked out at the green glowing floating thing that was at the end of my bed, sad to say it took me reaching and grabbing it to realize it was my own damn toe and that was after I squeeked and about jumped out of my skin because something grabbed my toe. I'll sit here and wait while ya'll finish your laughing fit. I'm really not a blond I swear, and on paper I'm intelligent. I think I just have these brief attacks of brain snooze syndrome.
Back to "sparklers" in bed... Once again that barrel chested Cowboy of mine came to the rescue saving me from being a dippy do. Cowboy walks in the boys room, gets the same "Hey DAD!!" that I had previously received and right away Super Dad knew exactly what the little man was talking about and gave a quick kid lesson on static electricity. After which led to 5 minutes of seeing just how many sparks they could make if Daddy lifted the sheet up really really fast and convulsions of giggles and chuckles. Sigh...my cup runnith over.
There has to be cliff notes somewhere to "HEY MOM!!" moments. That is not entitled "Ask the Man."
The dippy-do Mom
Friday, November 28, 2008
What am I thankful for? When asked at the dinner table yesterday my oldest son piped up for me before I even got a chance..."kids". LOL. Out of the mouth of babes. Yes, I am ever so thankful for my children, but I am also thankful to have my rough rider Cowboy home.
Yesterday was the beginning of the bitter-sweet holidays, because we know the chair at the head of the table will be empty next year along with a piece of our hearts. We make the best, enjoy the moments we have and hold onto those moments to get us through the tough times. It does make me stop and think of all the wives, husbands, mothers, father and kiddos who's loved one is deployed this holiday season. Keep the faith that each day they are gone is a day closer to them coming home. My heart goes out to you and I wish you all happy holidays and peace and comfort.
A moment of thinking aloud......
What's for dinner tonight? Blahhh HA HA. Like I'm actually going to cook tonight. Leftovers it is. If anyone does have any good recipes for smoked turkey it would be appreciated. I'm not a big fan of turkey salad and not quite sure how smoked turkey would be in a turkey pot pie..hmm. So, dig in your recipe box and give it up. I mean that in the nicest bossy way.
Oh yea....Happy shopping, may the discount fairy sprinkle lots of black Friday savings dust on you.
Have a great weekend.
Monday, November 24, 2008
All sit down grab a blankie and a lovey it's story time...
Every since that roughrider cowboy of mine stepped off the plane and started giving me hot flashes in his ACU's (sorry but I like the ACU's better than the Navy Blues. Sorry squids, but you will still always be dear to me) Even before we made it home from the airport and big city, our boys, mostly focusing on the older two, have been fascinated with all the gear, cloths and everything else he came home with in two duffel bags and two huge boxes. Now take into consideration, they own GI Joe's, they have for a while, we have helicopter, tanks, humvee's and more little green army men than I care to recall because they are hell on the feet and vacuum. But now things have picked up to a new level of mini military in my house.
Now, Dad's a real GI Joe, so when it's playtime of we are in the Army, not only is it just little tots on the floor with all their plastic soldiers and equipment, now we have marching, along with military cadence I might add, we have ranks, and heaven forbid one should get out of line, then we have Jr. drill instructor in your face. Nothing is funnier that watching a four year old Yell "UP....DOWNNN..." while his brother and in one case his FATHER does push-ups.
Battle had been getting pretty fierce and poor middle little who is on the clutsy side anyway, had fallen one too many time so it was time for Cowboy to break out the big gear. Upon seeing how cute those chubby cheeks where in his helmet Cowboy decided he needed a new pic for his myspace and went about the deed of lifting and placing the soldier jr in his boots and shirt which was a challenge on it's own... if you gave the child the slightest nudge he would tip over sorta resembling cow tipping for all the country folks out there, bit of knowledge for you, being in dad's boots was hard enough, but that helmet is HEAVY and thank the good lord for it because that pumpkin head is always the first thing to hit the floor.
So... there he is, dad's boots, shirt and helmet, trying not to move and tip over like a weeble wobble who will fall down. Cowboy darling is chuckling and snapping pictures when he tells him in a stern but loving voice "Give me your war face boy" That was it I was done, when the duck lips puckered up for his war face I was cow tipping over myself on the floor as poor cowboy is trying to snap the picture while shaking from laughter. Reason #312 to have kids... laughter and entertainment non stop!
You see, Welcome to my world, my tot-military and the mess hall that had better have chicken nuggets and chocolate pudding.
Nap time's almost over so I'm off for my next adventure in motherhood. Wish me luck and cover my back.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Do not go running away scared because this recipe is about Cranberries.
I know I know, they are tart and cause funny faces and tingles on the pallet, but surprisingly for the amount of them in this recipe it's not a pucker up your lips and give you the shivers type of taste. It's sweet and not overpowering and has just a kick of the tart when you need it to keep this from being too overly sweet. You know what I'm trying to say here, come on, I'm not a culinary writer.
So, since Thanksgiving is a week away this would be ideal for say breakfast, or the munchy table for your guests to munch on while waiting for you to hurry up and make the gravy so they can eat. It's more along the lines of a coffee cake than and actual cake cake so I think a fork is optional here.
I just served it with Coffee out in the barn to the guys working this weekend and didn't even individualy plate. Just cut it in bars and take a plate out to the fellas. I love finger foods, less dishes for me..YEA!
Alrighty, enough chit chat...here ya go. Don't be scared, Cowgirl Up and give it a try!
2 cups sugar
3/4 cup butter (softened)
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups flour
2 1/2 cups ground cranberries ( buy a bag of fresh cranberries in the produce section and grind them in the food processor)
Preheat Oven to 350 degrees
Beat eggs with sugar till slightly thickened and light in color. Add the butter and vanilla and mix some more till well combined, about 2 minutes. Stir in the flour until just combined. Stir in the cranberries.
(the whole bag of cranberries ground gave me about 3 cups, we like cranberries so I added them all, if you don't want the extra cranberry flavor just add the 2.5 cups)
Spread the batter into a greased 13x9 inch pan. Bake at 350 for about 45-50 minutes. Cake is done when a toothpick comes out clean.
Cool and serve as is or top with whipped cream or this is one you can really experiment with and see what a good topper is. I think a little drizzle of a powder sugar glaze would be good on this as well.
Enjoy! I fully intend to be munching of this with a big ole cup of coffee while watching the Macy's Parade on Turkey Day.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Thanksgiving in two weeks, good grief that means I need to realize Christmas is coming. Oh dear, Christmas. I'm not ready I tell you. I'm not ready for it. I haven't even considered the idea of shopping. Ick, Uhgg, Shopping. I'm also dealing with the notion would it be weird of me to get a little more in the FA LA LA LA LA mood knowing that my dear darling hubby isn't going to be home next Christmas.
I know there I go back to the upcoming deployment. I can't help it. It's been a long time since the last deployment and I'm older and maybe wiser....well nahh, no need to exaggerate that much.
I've done six month deployments, twice! This is going to be a year though and with the kids being older I'm under the thinking that maybe I should make the holidays a bit more pizzazzy. I know it's not going to make it any easier while he's gone but perhaps it will make some extras memories we can recall and ha ha about next year.
For being a veteran/old pro military wife you'd swear I'm a newbie to this.
So, any suggestions besides the typical cookies for Santa, wake up open presents stay in PJ's half the day and terrorize the house with new toys; and that's just cowboy...HA HA. Seriously though...what does a 31 yr old Cowboy/Soldier ask for for Christmas? A big remote controlled John Deere tractor that's what. LOL. See now you under stand why I say I'm raising FOUR boys.
I love him though, can't help it, how can you not be twitterpated with a guy who text messages you good morning beautiful most mornings while away to training/playing soldier. Besides he's kinda cute.
PSSTTT!!!! He's the one on the RIGHT, being as the other is a female, hopefully you figured that out already I would sure hope anyway.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
I am so ashamed of myself. I have no pictures of picking up Cowboy at the airport. No pics of seeing him come down the stairs in his ACU's (camo uniform they wear) all clean shaven and skinnier. I didn't recognize him the first moment I saw him, he has had a mustache as long as I have known him, but it wasn't hard to figure out that it was him when you consider it's after midnight in a little Fargo airport, he's the only man in uniform and got that big intoxicating grin of his waving at the boys.
It's a little different him being in the military now compared to when he was before. We lived in a military area and nobody gave a second look or thought to a man in uniform. Now, everywhere he goes it's handshakes and thank you's, can I buy you a drink etc. Even at the airport he came down the stairs looking all hot as anything in his uniform, hugged the kids and gives me a kiss and I notice an elderly woman get teary eyed as she watches us.
This is really going to take some getting used to. Don't get me wrong, I think it's wonderful all the support for the troops and the thank yous and attention. God knows our servicemen and women deserve it, but I can't help but feel bad for the Vietnam Vets. They were treated so horrendously. Why? That too was a war most didn't agree with and yet our troops are supported now.
On the topic of Vietnam Vets and Vets in general. I'm now going to get on my soapbox for a moment. This wonderful country of ours has a horrific problem that most aren't even aware of let alone giving a crap about because of the damm every things about me I must have everything and screw anybody else attitude.
Over 1/3 of homeless in this country are VETERANS!!!!
Stop and chew on that for a moment. You can serve your country, you can lay down your life go through hell and injuries to the mind, body and spirit and we just give you a big shrug off and not another thought of what became of you when your enlistment ended. It's a disgrace, it's disgusting, heart wrenching and completely unacceptable.
Everyone knows that the country is going through we must not utter the word "recession" but how about the folks that things where tough before this. What of them?
Veteran's Day is soon to be here and as we do every year, I will be taking my children to the Veterans home to have breakfast with the Vets. To thank them, to show our appreciation and to let my children know that these brave men are still here and these are the men you need to look up to in this world, not Hollywood stars who can rant and rave about a war because they are bored and yet I dare any of them to put on Kevlar leave their plush life and serve something greater than themselves.
This Veterans day, please remember what it really is for...not just another day off school or work, remember a Vet. is not just someone serving their country now, that just because the uniform is off the respect and appreciate SHOULD NOT end.
As I'm sure you can tell this is something I am extremely passionate about. Shouldn't we all be?
Hugs and stay warm,
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
I was worried that it would be harder than it was seeing as its been almost 5 yrs since Combat Boot Cowboy was in the military. At that time having one child, and now we have three. I must admit that was un-nerving. You throw in the fact that I now live in the middle of nowhere ND, which if you've ever driven through our gorgeous state you know is 90% of the state, I can honestly say it almost scared the bejeebers out of me. Yay me, I adjusted so well I even impressed myself. I so love when I can impress myself. Nothing is so gratifying as patting yourself on the back and saying damn girl I did not know you could do that so well, you really deserve some reward for being so wonderful. My reward has yet to be awarded.
1 week till he gets home. Am I making any special preparations? Nahhhhh. It's only been six weeks. Having my cooking to eat again and stories from a 8 yr old and a 4 yr old, not to mention an 18 month old who talks like crazy should be more than enough homecoming festivity. I am crossing my fingers and toes that the weather mellows out though, all except that little decimal I have for a pinkie toe, it just will not cooperate with anything, it's my rebel toe. Right now the lovely weather on the prairie of ND is non-stop rain mixed with near freezing temps and hitting below freezing with in the next couple nights. Sigh!
I'm not ready. Just a week ago we were in the 70's my snap dragons where bursting with new blooms and I had the windows open. Now I still need to put storm windows in, get the grill in the garage for next year, batten down the hatches and I need my man home to help with some of the joys of preparing for winter. So... old man winter you'd better stay west and leave us alone a few more weeks. PLEASE I beg from the bottom of a military wife's heart.
P.S. Just talked to my best girl buddy in WY, they just got bombed with a foot and a half of snow this weekend. Uhhhggg! Sun. 12 Oct.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
I'm sure you have noticed by now that I refuse to use the term "short bus." I do, I refuse to use it because of the warped friends I have that will convulse into a ball on the floor of hysterical laughter if I do. Damn city friends, go to Starbucks and buy me a latte, it will make you feel a lot better about laughing at me, well, I'll feel a lot better about you laughing at me .
You know I really wonder what it says about a person when her best friends are the first people to laugh at her and get their kicks at her expensive?
It says they are the greatest, I'd do the same thing.
OK back on track, after getting the oldest of my cowboy babies on the bus I checked my email. Not for any particular reason, that Cowboy Soldier of mine won't be writing, he's still in NM going through WTC training (learning the Army way since he's ex Navy). Last I heard from him he was learning the hand to hand combat mixed martial arts stuff. Ahhhhhhhh Young grasshopper, your Kung Foo is no match for my rockets. ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
Thanks Alvin and the Chipmunks movie. My life was not complete til your one liners came into it.
This kick butt little recipe was among the contents of my inbox this early am. Since I'm not much of a send every fwd I get type person, I thought I would share it here.
Disclaimer: I have not tried it yet. I was going to have it for breakfast, Shushhh I'm emotional eating here, thank you! Of course, wouldn't you know it I'm out of cocoa. I can't run to the store and get some either. For one, I only run if someones chasing me! For two, I'm still waiting for the military to decided that it's been long enough my husband needs paid, so I'm grounded. Living here, you do not venture out unless planning on filling the tank when the trucks gas gauge is in the red.
Finially, Here's the recipe. Provided you haven't already scrolled to the bottom to check it out because you where too tired of me getting sidetracked.
If you try it, please leave us all a comment below so we know how it went with you being the taste tester. OH, Don't forget to take the spoon out of the cup. That would really lead to disaster and I won't be held accountable for you blowing up your microwave or atleast causing a nuker meltdown.
5 MINUTE CHOCOLATE MUG CAKE
4 tablespoons flour
4 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons cocoa
3 tablespoons milk
3 tablespoons oil
3 tablespoons chocolate chips (optional) a small splash of vanilla extract
1 large coffee mug
Add dry ingredients to mug, and mix well. Add the egg and mix thoroughly.
Pour in the milk and oil and mix well. Add the chocolate chips (if using)
and vanilla extract, and mix again.
Put your mug in the microwave and cook for 3 minutes at 1000 watts. The
cake will rise over the top of the mug, but don't be alarmed! Allow to cool
a little, and tip out onto a plate if desired.
This can serve 2 if you want to feel slightly more virtuous. But Why?!
It's fall now, be a bear and put on your winter layer of fat. It will make the holy crap it's cold this winter seem so much more tollerable.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
I've been fine, which anyone who knows me really isn't a big surprise, I handle military separations pretty well. The kids have been my biggest surprise. Last time cowboy left for any amount of time was while he was active duty Navy and we only had our then barely 3yrs old, now he's an 8yr old. The boys have been fantastic, I knew kids where resilient but wow. That was up until today. Middle little (age 4) has been climbing into bed with me about halfway through the night, no real surprise there and no big deal. Then it started catching my attention.
Many years ago when cowboy and I were dating I lived about six hours from where he was stationed in Norfolk, VA. Weekends where my life. He'd come up right after work Fri. and leave as late as he possibly could on Sunday and still make it back in time to report to the ship. If he was going to be gone for anymore than the week, he'd always leave me a shirt. Usually a nice pressed and starched button up he was wearing, he'd put extra cologne on it and that's what I snuggled with and had near me when I slept. Sounds silly, but when you are used to sleeping with your head on a barrel chested cowboy, laying on his shirt and having that faint smell of him can really help when he's gone. Well, three weeks ago when he left, just like always, I've got my cowboy shirt to cuddle along with my pillow.
Middle little started last night taking the shirt from me and rubbing it on his cheek and sleeping with his head on it. Today at nap time, he cuddles with the cowboy shirt and then I hear the sniffles. My boy is having a hard time now. When asked why he's crying he simply says he doesn't know between sobs, sniffles and snuffles, he doesn't know if daddy's ever coming home, ouch that's a stab to the heart of a mommy. Try as I could I tried to explain how much longer daddy was going to be gone, I showed on the calender, I counted with him and the wheels are turning in his little head but it's just not registering.
I've been watching him, giving him extra hugs and attention when I can with chasing after his little brother and helping his older brother with school stuff. Then today it his new identity appeared. I give you Capt. Pickles.
I know, why Capt. Pickles? "Cuz that's my name" is the answer I got. Who am I to argue with simple reasoning such as that. Also, bit of info on the child... He LOVES pickles! He loves monkeys, hence the Curious George security blanket as a cape, he love tractors and now GI Joe, but he really likes pickles. It doesn't matter what kind either, sweet, dill, even the sweet spicy ones. It's not uncommon for him and Cowboy to sit down and polish off a jar of pickles in a couple sittings.
Playing super hero is a very common play thing for little fellers. My oldest used to tie his security blanket around his shoulders and run around being Super Cody. He'd wake up every morning, come running downstairs yelling Doot doo doo, Super Cody. I love imaginations. I've been known to draw treasure maps and send the little pirates with ice cream buckets on their heads on a treasure hunt. I'm also the one who printed off the pickle clip arts that are glued on his pickle glasses that give him his "pickle power" I must admit though, I am kind of thinking about the child Psychy on this one.
Is it a mere coincidence that Capt. Pickles comes to be at a time when my child is having a very hard time with daddy being away. Could this be a coping mechanism for his sadness of being a military child. Capt. Pickle's super powers are he's brave and strong. Oh yea, he zooms too. Zoom would be... bending your body in half, stretching your arms out behind you as you run and try not to fall on your face or run into any walls because you are looking at the ground as you run. I'm going along with it for now, it seems to be helping him with the sadness he's been having the past day and being his powers are to be brave and strong he's doing what he needs to do till daddy gets home. When the cape and glasses come off Capt Pickles disappears too, he's right back to being my middle little, which is a good thing. I have a strict no capes at the supper table rule.
I do wonder if in a few weeks if that handsome soldier of mine is going to be greeted at the airport by Middle Little, Zooooooooooooooom, Capt. Pickles! Wonder what airport security will think of that?
Monday, September 22, 2008
Picture qualities will hopefully be better in the next year as that darlin roughrider cowboy of mine promised me a new, awesome camera. I have a witness that he promised it too. So, cowboy you aren't getting out of it this time, and no you can't buy it for me and then take it with you when you deploy. So there.
This coming winter will be my third up here and I'd like to go on the record of saying, My blood is still too thin for the cold and wind. I keep hearing that you get used to it. I don't buy it. Sure you might be used to it if you where born here, as a wee cherub you got accustomed to holy crap that's cold, cover every inch of my skin. OH, I feel for poor little ones born in the winter, you think they where crying because they are babies, nuh uh they're screaming because they want put back in their warm little cocoons of mommy's tummy and emerge in spring like most cute cuddly creatures. I might sound bitter (like bitter cold, ha) about the winter, but I roll with the punches. I burrow into my comfy home and deal. Because the wide open spaces, friendly Mayberry sorta people and morals and ethics still abundant out here make cold winters worth it when raising my boys.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
It's taken over a week, and we are officially in the swing of doing things around here minus the barrel chested man of the house. Sure, we miss him and he wonders into our thoughts through out the day, but emotional moments are dwindling as each day goes by and bed time can go off with out whimpers of "I wish daddy was here." OH, tug tug at the heart strings
I'm glad that we are settling in to the separation because come tomorrow is when the hard part begins.
All except for one night so far, that cowboy soldier of mine has been able to call every night, if only for a brief moment, to tell us he loves us and misses us, and listen to a quick 10 second recap of all the events of a school day of an eight year old. After tonight that will all change. He won't be able to call.
At oh my lord, people should not be waking up this early in the morning, he gets on a bus and leaves OK to head for the middle of the desert of NM. What lies ahead is 4 weeks of this is the Army and this is the way it's done training. Hey at least it's not full boot camp, it's what I call mini-boot camp. Besides intense working out he gets to do the cool stuff, like hand to hand training and my personal favorite, guns and grenades.
Heck Yeah. Wonder if I could just do that part. They can keep the other stuff, I don't like getting yelled at, I might cry. Nobody wants to see a fluffy mother of 3 boys cry. so maybe they'll hold my coconut cookie and let me blow something up. Maybe? Possibly? Yeah, I didn't think so.
Can you imagine what it would look like if they let us moms of small children go and blow stuff up. You think big burly men do damage...HA HA HA! Try taking a handful of sleep deprived, stressed out mother's out somewhere with explosives to relax and blow off some steam.
We have battle training. Our lives are battles of; no you can't climb up the wall like spiderman as the child runs full tilt into the wall, stop swinging from the handheld shower hose, you are not Curious George, stopping one from diving off the back of the couch onto a single pillow, while another is seeing how many crayons can be shoved up it's nose to see if the end result is rainbow snot.
You think these men learn how to run, duck and cover. Try making a batch of cookies which are NOT for the household and get them on the plate, covered, out the door and into the truck without your children, snagging the plate, tackling you along the way and hog tieing you with kite string or socks they accidentally on purpose left in the sandbox the whole time fighting off a wee one that's climbing up your leg like a spider monkey. Small children have strange powers, do not underestimate them. Now this is the regular day of a mom with small babes, that's good training for something, but what?
Oh yeah! Teenagers.
So, honey! Blow something up for me, Your baby has discovered how to open doors.
It's bath and bedtime though. Battle stations Ladies.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Hello, my dears. Yes I'm still around. Obviously, that goodygasm coconut cookie recipe didn't post itself, then yet again, my house does have pixies in it, maybe they posted it.
For real I swear it does. Well, I prefer to think that I have some some sort of little mischievous fairy realm creatures over the other option...I'm haunted. wooooooooooooo. bwaaa haaa haaa. Sorry Halloween is coming and I figure I'll get a head start on it.
You see, every so often toys in the toy room start going off, meaning Elmo garages start repeating "oil change and a tune up, beep beep" or See & Says start quacking or mooing. That one got bad enough I took the batteries out. I've hollered in the nicest, adjust my halo, motherly voice for my kids to stop throwing and slamming their toys into the toy box then kids run in the door asking what was that mom, as they couldn't hear because they where outside playing.
Funniest yet, waking cowboy up to figure out what's making the noise in the bookshelf and listening and watching him try and get his land legs because once he's asleep he's OUT. Then grabbing the flashlight, stepping on some inky dink kids toy and look in the bookshelf for what we assumed would be a mouse, but the noise continued while he was looking and shining the light right where it was coming from and no mouse. He closes the bookshelf door after it stopped thinking finally my wife will leave me alone about "what's that" and I can go back to sleep.
Yes, I'm telepathic I can read my husband's mind thank you.
But he only made it a few steps and the noise begins again. So what does he do? I know you are just dieing to know. He does what any good caveman would do, he pounds his big macho construction man fist on the bookshelf door grumbling something from a language I'm sure he learned in the Navy and swaggers himself back to bed. Whispering in the sweetest tone that it's OK, go back to sleep to the baby, stopping to tuck the blankie back under my youngest cherubs chin.
Once in bed again, the noise starts again and I got the giggles poking him in the side about it. He just kicked his big foot out the bed and stomped the floor this time, telling me to "Go to sleep woman." And, giggle giggle I did. OK, I admit that one probably was a mouse, but it was funny, watching cowboy do anything right after waking before he's prepared to is always funny.
I'm Irishly stubborn standing by my theory that since I'm probably the only Scotch-Irish lass living in this very German, Scandinavian area that I have fairies, pixies, Imp's some sort of Celtic creatures flitting about my house over the fact that somebodies great great uncle died here. Shiver...hello pixies.
You see, I'm fine, so to speak. Upon reading what I just wrote that might mean I'm completely off my rocker. I don't think I am, but if you do... Feel free to send me to the loony bin, but if I do go, I'm taking the one who owns a "tippy table" with me, because she's loco too.
So, there it is. I've survived my first week of my hubby being gone except for not having him to chase odd sounds and fasten my top cartilage earring when I popped it out while doing my hair and try as I could even in contortionist ways I couldn't fasten it. I have survived and not a blubbering bawling mess.
Kids have adjusted awesomely. I am so proud of how well they are doing and life goes on.
5 more weeks to go, well this time, Jauary we start again, and then July or Aug the "Big one" over a year. I'll think about that tomorrow, in my best Scarlett O'Hara voice.
Remember: Hug your kids and spouse.
The loco ND Mama
Saturday, September 13, 2008
So, if you like coconut cookies these are goodygasm guaranteed.....they are both crispy and chewy and oh lordy good.
Now, it's not like I've made it my life long mission to create the perfect coconut cookie or anything. I do enjoy them though, but unlike a lot of people I don't like my cookies with a lot of extra funky things for texture or color. So, this is just what it says coconut cookies, no white choc. chips, no macadamia nuts, no cherry halves on top. Though feel free to add any or all of the above if you so wish. I just like basics though. These are definitely going to become a Christmas cookie must have. I'm sure like most coconut cookies these will probably freeze well too. Enough chit chat though, here it is...
Chewy Coconut Cookies
1 1/4 Cups All Purpose Flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 Cup butter (room temp.)
1/2 Cup packed Brown Sugar
1/2 Cup white Sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract (for intense coconut flavor, use coconut extract)
2 Cups Flaked Coconut (I use sweetened)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees
Combine the flour, baking soda and salt in a bowl.
In your mixer, I love my Kitchen Aid, cream the butter, brown sugar and white sugar till creamy like most starts to cookie doughs.
With mixer on low - med low, beat in the egg and vanilla till nice and combined.
This time make sure mixer is on low... slowly add it the flour mixture till fully combined and then add the coconut.
I use a teaspoon full per cookie and drop them on an ungreased cookie sheet making sure to leave a few inches in between.
Bake 12 -15 minutes till they are nice and light toasty brown.
Cool on rack. But don't forget to eat one once cooled to the touch just to make sure they are good enough for the kids and done all the way through.
P.S. Sorry bout the pictures being so bright, didn't take into consideration sunshine on the baby's head. oops.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Deep Breath, here we go again.
This morning at 0600 holding myself together best I could I watched the love of my life walk out the door of our hotel room in the city, going to catch a plane to begin his six week training of WTC.
I've known this was coming, I've been fine. I was fine this morning till my oldest hugged his dad and I saw the tears start running down his cheeks. That was it, I was done, tough as I am I can't watch one of my babes cry and not start bawling myself.
I'm not very much of a cryer either and I really don't cry in front of people very often, especially my kids. So, a few tears, comfort my oldest, hugs and cuddle all three, pull myself together and load up the truck and come home.
The 65 mile drive home was rather quiet, partially do to it was 7 o'clock in the morning and my kids were going back to sleep and partially because my oldest and myself where deep in thought. The younger two I think where not sure how to feel or react. The baby doesn't have a clue and middle little knows, but at 4 there is really no time conception so when we got home and he casually brings up about daddy coming home tonight, I realized, this is going to be a new experience for me.
I've done the whole, home and gone, home and gone. I've done the little kid asking where's daddy, but my oldest was just turned 3 when my husband got out of the Navy.
Firsts for me now...an eight yr old who's smart as a whip and doesn't miss a thing and now the shell of he's a tough little big cowboy is cracking, the waves of tears have been coming all morning. I comfort the best I can, but hugs and comforting words from mommy when a little guy wants his daddy only helps so much. Another first... A four year old full of questions with answers I don't have and thinking that six weeks means dad will walk through that door every time he asks.
It's the first day. I learned years ago that give me my few boo hoo days, I don't mean sit and bawl all day and be completely unproductive, I mean I'm aloud to be out of sorts for a few days damnit, after which I'll pull myself up by bootstraps and go about making my home and our lives as normal as possible without that missing silhouette of a barrel chested cowboy.
On we go, get yourself back in the swing of things girl, you're a military wife again. Hooah.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
I know, he's too cute! Don't let that adorable grin and big blue eyes fool you though. He's good, real good at getting one over on you. I don't mean the naughty bad sort of things. Like all my boys he's a good boy. OK, all my boys except maybe that tall, big armed mildly cocky cowboy of mine. He can be naughty and bad and have an I don't care what other people think attitude, but that's a different story, different post, different day.
The subject of my rambling today is that adorable, pumpkin headed little Imp up there. That's my "middle little", my 4 yr old, my lovey and cuddly and sometime rather emotional cowboybaby.
We've recently hit the stage in his life when tantrums won't get you your way, try using your smarts which I'm positive he's picked up from his older brother. Oh lord mom here we go again.
Not long ago we went to the county fair. YEAH! Rides, rodeos, fried food, animals, 4 H , need I really go on.
Well, during the fair they had a parade. The best kind of parade when you are a little feller, tons and tons of CANDY. Through my years, no need to say how many, I've been to an abundance of parades. I have to admit, this one might not have been the best in terms of floats and people , no bands, and length wasn't all that great. But, it was hitting the jackpot mother load on getting candy.
I would like to take this moment to thank whomever the nifty people where that threw icee pops. "Thank You" from me and all mothers of inky dink children strapped in strollers in 90 degree weather. Those frozen treats where perfect to keep my littlest cowboybaby Imp from having a melt down.
So, you've got the picture...we got lots of candy. All this was to let you know where the chocolate came from that led to me losing a discussion. I know, where the candy came from is irrelevant but oh well. The debate kind of went like this...
Thump, Thump, Thump! sounds like a baby elephant running down the stairs, middle little doesn't walk...he thumps.
"Mommy can I have a piece of gum?"
"A piece of candy?"
"I said no to candy" that would be me, unwisely thinking that would end the conversation. HA!
"Chocolate's not candy" At this point I should have know, this was not going to end well for me.
" Yes, chocolate is candy and I said No"
"Nuh uh, chocolates not candy, chocolate's chocolate."
I begin to think on that comment and start to realize, he's going to win. Because, technically, even though I know he doesn't know; Chocolate isn't candy as far as I figure. If only I'd thought that 10 seconds ago when I mistakenly placed the all mighty cocoa in the candy category. Chocolate is a ground up bean thingy like coffee, it's a flavoring and it's not used in just deserts and sweets. Go to Hershey PA and they have a spa that will smother you in a chocolate rub and let it dry and it has fantastic effects on your skin. FYI, that would be where I want to go right now for a mommy get-away. Smother me in a chocolate scrub, sprinkle cocoa in my bath while I drink a chocolate martini. OHHH Yeahhhh! Ooops, back to reality.
Looking down I see he hasn't moved. He's standing his ground that chocolate isn't candy and the twinkle in those greyblue eyes tells me he's not giving up on getting something out of that parade bag. So, I give him a bag of pretzels from some politician and off he runs not really realizing what he's done. I do though.
I've been defeated by a four yr old. Sadly for my ego it won't be the last time I'm sure.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Two weekends ago we went to the the unit picnic and this recipe was a hit. I am sad to admit, I didn't have any. I was too busy helping get an indecisive 4 yr old through the food line, without him dropping his plate and filling it with nothing but watermellon and chips. My son did have a big healthy scoop of it though, and it was "awesome, soooo good" and who am I to disagree with an 8 yr old. It was also good enough, that my cowboy soldier's Readiness NCO emailed it to everyone. I must say, I fully intend to make this recipe though, I'm thinking probably around the 8th, (when my roughrider cowboy leaves for WTC for a month) the perfect time for a big bowl of comfort food.
My thinking is... any salad that includes pudding and smashed cookies needs to be shared, and since it does have "salad" in the name that means you are free and clear to eat as much as you want because we all know salad = healthy!
BY: LUCAS MORAN
2 SMALL BOXES INSTANT VANILLA PUDDING
2 CUPS BUTTERMILK**
MED CONTAINER COOL WHIP
1 SMALL CAN MANDARIN ORANGES, DRAINED
1 SMALL CAN PINEAPPLE CHUNKS, DRAINED
1 PKG FUDGE STRIPED COOKIES, CRUSHED
MIX PUDDING WITH MILK. ADD COOL WHIP AND FRUIT AND CRUSHED
COOKIES. OPTIONAL: SPRINKLE A FEW COOKIE CRUMBS ON TOP OR GARNISH
WITH A FEW WHOLE COOKIES. REFRIGERATE
**IF YOU DON'T HAVE BUTTERMILK ON HAND SUBSTITUTE 2 TSP VINEGAR OR
LEMON JUICE TO 1/2 CUP MILK, IN THIS RECIPE IT WOULD BE 8 TSP TO 2 CUPS
MILK. LET STAND FOR A FEW MINUTES, THEN ADD TO PUDDING AND MIX.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
I cross my fingers and say my prayers that nothing happens that will cause his liking of school to come to a screeching halt. Especially with my hubby leaving in less than 3 weeks to go off to WTC ( training to teach him the Army way of doing things) and that's minimal a month long, I'm going to have my hands full enough with three little cowbabies, whom I might add are rather fond of having daddy home every night. So, I cross my fingers and my toes, except that my inky dinky little toe is a rebel and won't cooperate!
I really hope my oldest boy likes his teacher and she him, and that the group of bullies in his class keep it to a minimal.
I am going to take this moment to rant, not about anything affecting me personally but just in general.
Kids are mean! I'm not sure how much meaner than they where back in the childhood days of generation X, but I don't recall them being cold hearted viciously mean as kids are today. Oh sure, kids where picked on, shoved around, fought, dreaded dodge ball etc. But, I think kids have a loss of conscience now. It could be the lack to discipline, yeah yeah I know, whoaaaaaaa touchy subject. But, it's true. Too many kids do what ever they want knowing darn well that if they get in trouble for it, they can lie and mommy and daddy will cover for them or get them a lawyer. What the hell, lawyers are for divorces, not for blaming your child's lack of behavior skills on someone else, then try to cover your lack of back bone to be a parent rather than a friend. Kids have friends, they need parents, to teach them the morals and values that are needed to be lawful, respectful adults whom don't need to be informed of ways to help his fellow man. UHGG. OK, I think I'm off my soapbox. OH not quite....parents instead of buying carjacking murdering video games... try buying your son a belt and a haircut and your daughter an extra yard of fabric on her cloths, teenage girls do not need to be walking around with all their bits and pieces hanging out!
WOW! I can really rant about nothing in particular can't I. Especially when I live in the sticks pretty far away from the problems of the cities. Oh well, my blog I can ramble about what I want. I'm off though, I've got a kitchen to clean from lunch and Mt. Washmore is staring at me again.
I'm out. ZOOOMMMMM!
Monday, August 11, 2008
I know, I know I'm terrible, it's been a week since I've wrote. I got busy...school starts in a little over two weeks, hubby leaves for a month to WTC in about three weeks, I've got three boxes of peaches, to make jam, can and freeze. Ahhhh, deep breath.
I love how some weeks are pretty mellow. Wake up, take care of kids, deal with minor child induced dilemma's, clean, cook and type on here at nap time, finish mommy duty day and call it a night when all the little males are asleep and I realize it's late, I'm sleepy and nothing else is going to get done that night. Then there are the other weeks. Every night I stop and go... where did the day go and did I accomplish anything today except baby wrangling my adorable little cowbabes and if I'm lucky, being able to shave my legs with out a child needing me or coming in bombarding my bathtub with the whole pile of tub toys.
Then again, I much rather that the rubber ducky baby bombs get thrown in the tub at me than where he usually throws them....the potty. Yuck! I just know in the next couple weeks he'll figure out how to flush it too.
* Bit of useless information for you. Did you know that 6 small rubber duckies will take a nice watery merry go round ride in the toilet before it goes on strike and decides to overflow. Thank you my darling oldest cowbaby...Cody, when you were 2. You have been the proud creator of this little known fact. LOL! Sorry that was six years ago and I need a moment to stop and chuckle at that adorable "look what I did Mom, aren't you proud" expression he had.
All you mother's of tots. Consider that bit of info when you see a bargain pack of 6 adorable, micro, smiling faced rubber duckies and you decide to buy 2 packs. One pack you are safe...step away from the second pack unless you enjoy cold toilet water pruned toes.
My hands still smell like peaches and I'm sleepy.
Good night & Sleep sweet! Have pleasant dreams of attacking rubber duckies. HA HA.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Now myself as the mother, not the wind in my hair free spirited little child, I find myself looking out the window at my babes and smiling. There is something so special about a warm sunny afternoon with a light breeze, holding a large slice of juicy watermelon and a good spirited brother sitting beside you to spit your seeds at. The laughter and twinkles in my little imp's eyes is enough to make a mother's cup runith over.
Speaking of Imps (ornery little pixie creatures from the books of fairy lure)
I give you my littlest imp, watermelon for the first time. If those big eyes, strawberry blond ringlet curls and pug nose doesn't scream Imp I don't know what does. I tell you, I am rather quickly coming to the conclusion that this one might prove to be my biggest challenge.
I'm game though. Motherhood never has a dull moment and with age and experience I'm learning not to sweat the small stuff and pick my battles. Childhood is such a small window in our lives and before we know it the window closes and the door will open the the trials of adulthood.
But, even as an adult, feel free to kick off the shoes, go barefoot and eat a big slice of watermelon.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Cody is my almost 8 yr. old. He's the oldest of my cowbabies, he's the only one that was around when my Cowboy man was in the military before. The only one to have previously gone through deployments. He's also my preemie, oh my tiny little orange colored (jaundice) inky dinky baby.
He's a country boy... boots, hat, obsessed with bull riding, but the one thing that will lead him astray from the western being that he is .... BMX and dirt bikes.
I give you the X games... The cowboy boots come off, a pair of sneakers gets thrown on as well as the helmet and pads, and not just any. NOOOOO, last year for his birthday it was a mongoose trick bike as he calls it, black helmet and pads that just so happen to say "X Games" on them. That child pulls on his bike gear and he's gone outside to try again to mirror whatever he last saw being executed on some program being sponsored by Amp, Monster or Rockstar energy drinks.
Oh my, would you look at the face. Fierce determination. He's got his game face on, or I'm going to run mom over face. I would much prefer it wasn't the latter one.
I'll go along with experimenting of who he wants to be. His hair is still short, his pants aren't down below his crack and he's still well mannered and respectful. So, I'll sit here and cheer him on as he tries again to pop a wheelie...but in the back of mind I keep thinking, bull riding and X Games. Yea, I know, just what a mother's first choice of personalities for her children is ... an action junkie.
Is it better for me to support him or to squash his dreams and ambitions just because of my fear of him getting hurt?
I will support him. To the point of one of the bull riders around here offered to teach my boy and I've mentioned to his daddy about the lumber in the pole barn and possibility of at least a ramp.
Would I still be a cool mom if I wrapped him in bubble wrap first? Hey, it was worth a try!