Christmas Break Book Review

After Christmas Dinner, I was pretty much done with expending effort of any kind. I've been, as Kuba, our last exchange student would say, 'chillin'. On the couch. Reading. Towards the beginning of the break, we stopped by the library, and I checked out a huge stack of books that looked interesting to my boys. Particularly my older ones. Call it an insurance policy. With all this time on my hands, and nothing to do (that I wanted to do anyway) I jacked their books and read them. All but one of them. I read two books of the Alex Rider series. They were surprisingly intense! My 11 year old doesn't like them for that reason. I spent several hours in each book wondering how this 14 year old boy would survive the day. You see, in case you haven't seen the movie trailer, he's a spy. The books were almost spotlessly clean, you may see an occasional 'hell', and were devoid of sensuality. They were pretty serious adventures though.
I found another series by the same author, also involving a young teen boy who is a reluctant spy. These ones have a whole different feel. The main character, Nick, lives with his older brother who is a private detective and is practically witless. There is so much funny banter, silly wordplay and slapstick comedy, that you would never know the two series' were written by the same person. This series was squeaky, squeaky clean and very silly. There was still all the mortal peril we come to expect from a spy novel, but it was way more fun.
I checked out a book on CD, to listen to while I was cleaning; because you know, I clean for HOURS. Especially this Christmas break. I want you to know, that at no part of this book was I just sitting at the computer staring at the mesmerizing visualizations on the screen. Never. This was a seriously good book. It's about a girl in the seventh grade, who is so cerebral that she doesn't connect on any emotional level with her peers. My entire brood of boys was riveted to this book. It had an ending that I actually teared up for, and that's saying something. This is one of the best stories I've heard in a long time. The story is written from two points of view, and each girl's thought patterns are fleshed out so completely that you are sure they're real people.
The last book, has about 350 pages, and I read it in a day. I read it last, because it's about a dragon, and I'm a little prejudiced against books with dragon's that aren't Harry Potter. They seem like they're all the same. This one, was so beautifully written that when I absolutely had to put it down, I spent my time talking about how gripping the story was. It was originally written in Italian, and only published in English last year. It's not really about a dragon. It's about what happens to people when fear and ignorance take away humanity. It was a very satisfying read, with a great ending and a powerful message.
So you see, my friends, my time wasn't wasted. All that time curled up on the couch with either an enormous bowl of popcorn or a huge bag of chocolates was actually an investment. Right?

Help! I'm Drowning!

I'm drowning in junk food. Junk food that I can't resist. Everywhere I look, everywhere I turn, I see this:

And This:

And This:

I walk across the floor, and stumble over this:
That's right, Cherry Cordial Hershey's Kisses. Did you know that it's possible, while engulfed in the pages of a good book, to eat an entire bag of these without even realizing it?
When I'm feeling munchy, which is, like, ALL THE TIME lately, and I look in the cupboards, this is what I see:

After Christmas dinner, there was so much pie left over. I knew, that if I'd just eat it all, I'd remove the temptation. I never usually buy sweets. I don't make desserts, as a rule. Not that I'm against it, mind you, but after having pulled together a main dish and two sides, I don't feel the need to make dessert too. I need to hire someone to do that. Or depend on neighbors that like to take their friends dessert. Like really good brownies. (Hint, hint AJ)
Anyway, when all the festivities are done, the junk food will be gone. After a few days of wicked sugar withdrawals, everything will go back to normal. Right? Right?
But for now, you'll have to excuse me. I think that's chocolate I see peeking out from under the couch.

Christmas Dinner

I was looking forward to Christmas. Don't get me wrong. I love watching the kids open their presents. I love getting together with the whole clan Christmas Eve. I love the traditional candlelit Jerusalem dinner we have in a tent the night before Christmas Eve. We eat chunks of cheese, fish, fruit and flat bread with our hands. The candlelight flickers as my husband tells the Christmas story from the perspective of a shepherd. These are all great things, but what I was REALLY looking forward to was Christmas dinner. More specifically, MY CHRISTMAS DINNER. I'd been planning it for weeks. I LOVE to cook ginormous meals for company. I don't just LOVE it, I Lu-huh-huh-huh-ve it. It makes my pulse race. I dream about it, and this dinner was the stuff of dreams indeed.

First, I brined my turkey. Never heard of doing that? I hadn't either until just before Thanksgiving on Pioneer Woman. She started it. For Thanksgiving, I bought some brine, and begged my mom to try it, and it was divine. This time, I made my own brine. As the turkey was baking, scents of apples, oranges and cloves wafted through the house. It completely changed the texture of the meat. Tender, juicy are some of the words that come to mind.
I made Pioneer Woman's dressing too. It's a mixture of cornbread and French bread. Yes, I made cornbread to make the dressing, weird, huh? The cool thing was, that I was able to use my fresh parsley, sage, rosemary, and well, bottled thyme. I don't grow thyme yet. But I felt waaayyy domestic, just snipping it and bringing it inside.
I also made rolls, green bean casserole, tossed salad, jello salad (except I forgot to tell the Muslims it had gelatin in it, which has pork, so they can't eat it. Big oops! I bet there were a few extras prayers said that night) My husband made the mashed potatoes, I made the gravy, and then to the desserts! I made pies, lots of them. I made pecan, pumpkin, and a cool new apple caramel one from, once again, Pioneer Woman. I also made two blueberry cobblers, her recipe too. I let my aunt bring only the few things I could bear not to make myself.
A few months ago, my parents broke the news that they would not be in town for Christmas. I'm happy to share them with my sis, so I had to go on the hunt for other victims. My Aunt and Uncle next door were perfect. They have tons of company in town! In all, we had 1 grandma, 1 neighbor, 7 natives to the house, 1 Saudi, 1 Egyptian, 1Chinese, 1 Kazakh, 1 Azerbaijani, 1 Thai, and 3 cousins and my aunt and uncle. We had Egyptian music blaring, little guys dancing, and people stuffing their faces."I'll just help myself to a little of this, no one's looking." When it was over, and we were stuffed to capacity, about half the food was still there.
That gave me some serious satisfaction. I had so much fun trying new recipes, and hosting so many people. When it was done, I skipped out the door for a movie with my other sis and cousins. I came back, and the dishes were done. These were some pretty serious dishes. Can it get any better than that? I think not.
I loved it. Can you tell?

I get a little over enthusiastic.

Someone grab the camera.

Quick!

Christmas pics

Christmas morning, before the kids got to come in......

The stockings were stuffed to overflowing.

Holy Mountain of Presents, Batman!

Thank You, Rashed!

Lovin' on Daddy

What's in the box? 50 pounds of LEGOS!

Push your finger in here, it makes a noise.

This boy's got a blade.

Chocolate Grin

An afternoon of bliss...

Some Thoughts on Christianity

I've had some thoughts brewing around in my heart that I want to share. I was blog hopping the other night, and came on a blog where some gals were discussing the religion we share. I was blown away by their anger. Talks that had inspired and challenged me, left them crying and swearing. I kept reading and reading, baffled at first, but then I began to understand. Behind the anger, was incredible hurt. These women were so injured, because they felt like they didn't fit into the 'mold' that was expected of them. I thought a lot about this 'perfect woman' mold, she even has a name. We know how many children she's supposed to have, all the things she's good at, and all the complicated details she's supposed to juggle.
I've thought a lot about Jesus Christ, and what he taught. He compared us to all the many parts of the body, each different, but essential. It's absurd to think that the being who created the almost infinite variety of flowers, and made us each so different, would expect us all to cram into the same mold. He doesn't. His church doesn't. We do that to each other. We come up with that all on our own.
I've asked myself: how do I feel when someone from church makes a decision I feel is wrong? How do I feel when I see someone with a talent I don't have? What do I think of someone that has way more money than I do, or way less? I'm ashamed to admit, that I withheld friendship from an amazing person for several years because she was so pretty, I felt plain next to her. Christian? I don't think so.
I was in the grocery store yesterday, and it was packed. One poor woman in a scooter was blocked, and was agitated enough to swear at the people in her way. I was filled with unholy glee because she goes to my church. I mentioned this to the woman wedged in the aisle beside me who replied "I guess that's why we have church, isn't it?" Ouch.
I've thought about how really and terrifyingly fragile we are. We're all brothers and sisters, and there's quite a bit of sibling rivalry. We desperately want to know that we're good enough, that we're loved. It's a sad reality of human nature that we can perceive someone else's weakness as somehow increasing our chances. The other side of the coin, is to assume that everyone else is enough; that we're the only one lacking. We can think that other people's strengths somehow negate ours. We assume that we're the only ones who depend on a friendly smile, a compliment on our haircut, or a squeeze on the arm as we pass in the hall.
I tell myself, that I shouldn't need other people's approval to know that I'm okay. I should just care how God sees me, and how does he see us?
We're his babies. We're as cute to him as our babies are to us, except he doesn't have to wipe our bums. We're still just babies. We make mistakes, just like our little ones do. It's cute when my baby tries a new word and doesn't get it right; when he comes running to me, arms outstretched, and biffs it at my feet. Our Father has compassion for us, and we're endlessly precious and cute to him. I'm convinced of that. And we're also- right now- in all our warty imperfection, ENOUGH.
This Christmas season, I'm going to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ by doing my best to become more like him. I'm going to try to remember each day that I'm precious, and you're precious; that there's room enough in heaven for all of us. Instead of seeking other's approval, I'm going to give it. Instead of seeking out the gals who are like me, I'm going to look for who needs a friend, or a smile. I'm going to remember that all those people who've had a harder life than me, that may not look like they have it all together, they're enough too. I'm going to spend more time loving others, instead of working so hard to dot every i and cross every t. That's real Christianity.

My Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory

It's Saturday night, and I'm relaxing on the couch. I've been cooking all day, so my feet are propped up and I'm reading the paper. Suddenly, my littlest guy runs up to me, eyes alight with glee. "I got chock-it, Mommy! Chock-it poo poos!" I take a moment to digest what he just said. This boy is a woman when it comes to chocolate. He has a deep and abiding love for the stuff.

But, chocolate poo poos? I try to imagine what situation would cause him to equate what usually stays unseen in his diaper, to his great culinary passion. "Where?" I ask hesitantly. There are some questions one would just rather not know the answer to. "Come on, I show you!" he pulls at my hand, practically dragging me down the hall to his room. Sure enough, smeared all over the floor is the "chock-it". Apparently he'd been playing when he was hit with a bout of what my mom calls 'The Trots' and my dad calls 'Rocky Mountain Quick Step'. This was more than any diaper could hold. I hadn't noticed before, but it was all down his legs. I get him swabbed up while my #3 boy enthusiastically cleans up the floor. The littlest guy was just as pleased as he could be. "I TOLD you Mommy, I got Chock-it!"

My Man Has a Plan

In the days following my emotional tsunami of a breakdown, my husband and I brainstormed for solutions. We figured that the boys needed to take more responsibility to get their stuff done. That would avoid the whole "Mom's going crazy, everyone hide in the closet" scenario that seemed to be happening during homework/instrument practice/chore/ dinner-making /get-the-house-ready-Dad-will-be-here-any-minute time. A lightbulb went on for my husband. At work, he is responsible for quantifying and evaluating almost every conceivable aspect of sales and customer service. He uses boards like this one, except he has four of them. He modified that program for one that would fit us.

Now introducing........... (drumroll) The Accountability Board!

Every evening before dinner, we gather around the board, and have 'accountability time'. The boys report their performance for the day. Green boxes mean they got the job done, red means they blew a chance for wealth beyond their wildest dreams. See, Daddy's generous. Way more generous than Mom. He's turned this program into a pretty good money-making scheme for those lucky boys.
The premise is this: you get a perfect score on one aspect of your responsibilities, and you get paid pretty well for it. You get paid for each category, so if you miss up to two squares in a week on any particular item, you still got some money. If you blow off any one category, it starts to cost you. If you get a perfect score on all five items, you get the brass ring: lots of cashola. We aren't counting on everyone striking it rich every payday, but come on, they have to earn their mission money somehow. This has singlehandedly solved my nagging problem. But, since they have other responsibilities, they aren't doing household chores anymore. Bum jugger for me on that one.
I've decided to ease up on my cleaning frenzy. You see before you my daily chores for my 'day off' in the week. The 'deep cleaning' day had about two more feet worth of chores. I've decided not to freak out if I don't get everything done. The world won't end if I skip spot-washing the couch for a week.
I also took some good advice, and did what before would have been unthinkable: I bought paper plates, and served food on them. And then I threw away the evidence. Several evenings a week, my husband won't be home for dinner, so he'll never see my shame. And I won't wake up to a messy kitchen because I was too spent to do the dishes, and my kids did a lousy job because they knew I was too tired to go and check on them.I also get to sneak out of the house twice a week to go take fitness classes while this sweet man gets the kids ready for school by himself. I come home when they're out the door, so we get time to talk, read the comics and enjoy the peace and quiet.

Here is a certain 6 year old, having a blast with leftover striping material when Daddy was making the board.
Some good things have come of this change. The boys get some good time with their Daddy in the morning; my bum is getting totally cute from all the exercise I'm getting. I've been spending much more time playing with my guys instead of avoiding them. I took them swimming last night, took dinner from the oven, slopped it onto (gulp) paper plates, then shuttled them off to bed. "Why do we have to go to bed at 7:30?" they asked, their pathetic eyes imploring me. "You know how you guys always want to sleep in? Well, this is sleeping in, only on the other side of the night!" The little ones agreed, looking a little confused, but the big boys just rolled their eyes and sauntered off to bed. They would just read as long as they felt like it.
So, my friends, this chicky-babe might just make it through this after all.