LouandAce

Bullying: the speck in your eye, the plank in mine

2010-10-31T17:50:00.001-04:00

About a month ago a sad story was released of a promising young college student who killed himself after his private sexual encounter was recorded and broadcast online by his roommate. Humiliated, and outed for having homosexual sex, this young man decided to take his own life.
The outcry that followed was loud; and rightly so. Celebrities denounced the action and called for a national recognition and response to the problem of bullying, especially they said, against gay teenagers.

I agree. However I would add that bullying is also a problem among non-gay teenagers as well. The same week that this story emerged, I read another case from a few years ago that rings similar to many cases happening today. A young Croatian immigrant living in a comfortable suburb of Ohio hung herself from her bedroom window after being bullied and tormented by classmates because of her accent and her name. She was found hanging over the front lawn of her house by her sister. Even at her wake, some classmates laughed, as her family watched, at the way she looked in the casket.
As adults we shake our heads and wonder ‘Who are these horrible children? Where are their parents?’

But if we are honest, aren’t these children doing exactly what we show them? Exactly what we do? And exactly what we celebrate from day to day?
My husband and I are Survivor fans. We realize we are one of the few who still watch that show, but I think we do so because it is such a reflection of the way we are in real life, especially if there is a prize to be had for being the most loved, the most popular or sole Survivor.

TV Shows, Fashion Reviews and most recently politics all show our ugly bully-like tendencies.
The current political atmosphere has me sick to the pit of my stomach. I have lost friendships and relationships simply because of a difference in political convictions. I do not have an extensive amount of years as an adult who is informed of the different interactions going on in politics, but I cannot help but wonder if the animosity that has resulted from our differences is any different from the animosity that drives teenagers all over this country to call each other names, or terrorize each other for differences in personal beliefs, appearances, or lifestyles.

Over the past month, many of the same celebrities who called for an end to bullying among our teenagers can be heard calling those who believe differently from them regarding politics: a bitch, ignorant hillbillies and dogs, or people with no more than lizard brains. Many times these comments were said in a setting with a studio audience that can be heard in a riotous laughter of agreement that I believe echoes in living rooms across this great nation.
In fact, last week the President himself told a Latino audience on Univision that “we're gonna punish our enemies and we're gonna reward our friends who stand with us on issues that are important to us…” By enemies, he was not referring to Al Qaeda or terrorists but rather to those who differ politically: our family members, neighbors and fellow Americans.

I may not agree with your political convictions, your religious belief system, or your choices of personal lifestyle, but that does not give me the right to call you my enemy, beat you up, call you names, or release information about your one-night stand.

The fact is bullying is wrong; be it among teenagers, their parents or the political leaders of their country.

Restoring Honor

2010-09-02T23:17:00.003-04:00

Earlier this week, a young family (parents and three kids ranging in age from 11 months to 4 years old) ventured out on a long journey: a 17-hour drive to Washington D.C. Like many other families from across the nation we set out to an event we only knew we ‘had to attend’ but without even knowing what the final event would look like.

The speakers of the event had not been announced, there was no set program – only a place and time, the reputation of the organizer and his promise that this would be a life-changing event.

The very mention of this organizer’s name will cause some to clench their teeth, curse or roll their eyes. He is a father, a husband, and in his words an “independent” who is as disgusted by our last administration as he is with our current one. He is a radio and television personality who I imagine is hated only for his large following. After all, this is America and if you don’t like him there is the option to change the channel. But really and truly this is not about politics or what channel you choose to watch on television. It is about our adventure to the Restoring Honor Rally in Washington D.C. on 8/28/2010. While we were not close enough to see and enjoy all the speeches that took place throughout the program, I will tell you that it is the encounters and interactions we had with others throughout the event that made the drive from West Palm Beach, Florida well worth it. There are some things that a news article can never describe.

We left our hotel at 7:30am and sat in traffic for an hour to make the 20-minute drive to our metro station. We along with many others ended up parking on the off-ramp to the highway towards the metro as half-an hour after the station opened, the furthest metro from D.C. in Virginia, had its parking lots and two parking garages full of cars. Interactions with other travelers began what would be a journey for us into the hearts and lives of so many other Americans. We talked of where we were from, of time served in the military, of kids and grandkids. We laughed as some told stories of their families and their daily lives back home. They were from all over the US. In the parking lots we saw license plates from obvious places like Virginia, Washington D.C. and Maryland but there others from New York, Pennsylvania, Illinois, North and South Carolina, Michigan, Ohio, Georgia, Florida and Indiana.

We all parked precariously and joked that hopefully we would not be ticketed or towed because of the sheer number of us parking on whatever piece of grass or unused road surface we could find. We were greeted by a line a few feet away in the parking lot. To our shock (and ultimately our delight) we soon realized that the hundreds of people waiting in line were waiting to buy a metro ticket into the city. Thankfully we already had metro passes and we walked on passing young and old as they sat, chatted and inched their way towards the building. Inside the metro we were surprised to find what looked like the weekend skeleton crew working at the station. Workers were frantically trying to help people buy tickets, to enter with strollers and wheelchairs or simply trying to help them use the entry stalls towards the trains. It was the first of many evidences that the city and the surrounding areas were unprepared for the masses that were about to descend upon them.

Two hours later we arrived at the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. We passed three or four persons with shirts that depicted Obama with the infamous Hitler mustache. Our attention was called towards them by the cameras and media surrounding the different ones. A lady in the crowd beside me commented on the paradox that the majority of us were attending with our families in tow and yet the media wanted to focus on those who were clearly the minority in the group. Most people wore shirts from their home state – Pennsylvania, Arkansas, New York or Florida. A few wore shirts supporting Obama and others supporting Palin. There were people with missing teeth, hunting hats and backpacks, there were others with Burberry handbags and Fendi sunglasses. There were Native-Americans, Asian-Americans, African-Americans, Hispanic-Americans, East Indian-Americans, parents, babies, children, college-aged young adults, grandparents, walkers, wheelchairs, strollers, Veterans without limbs, people with tattoos, mullets, red hair, blonde hair, curly hair and straight hair. As one speaker said, "Look around you. You're not alone. You are Americans!"

The funniest person I encountered however was a white lady who along with her colleagues were holding signs and yelling through a bullhorn “Tea Party people are racist!” I, as a black, female immigrant, paused and stared at her, and for a brief moment our eyes met before she quickly shifted her glance and her stance. The irony of it all spoke for itself.

Speakers at the event spoke of honoring the military, restoring values in our homes and our country and returning to God. Awards were given to individuals who demonstrated Faith, Hope and Charity: Albert Pujols, a baseball player, was given a merit of Hope award for his commitment to his wife, his faith, his job and his off-field charitable work. Rev. C.L. Jackson, a prominent black pastor and civil rights leader who attended Martin Luther King Jr.'s legendary 'I Have a Dream Speech' 48 years ago, was given a badge of merit for Faith. Jon Huntsman, a billionaire known for saying he wants to die broke, received a badge of merit for Charity that was accepted on his behalf by a cancer survivor whose life was saved after she received treatment at Huntsman’s Cancer Hospital. He is an avid philanthropist and is always seeking opportunities to reward people for hard work and seeks to put his money to work in his community.

Martin Luther King’s niece Alveda King spoke of her “Uncle Martin” and how he would be honored to see this event happening on the anniversary of his own historic “I Have a Dream” speech. Towards the end of the event 240 religious leaders stood on the stage – pastors, priests, rabbis, imams and others linking arms signifying a commitment to our nation’s need to return to God.

We started heading back towards the hotel before the event ended to try and avoid some of the crowds. Even with that, the metros were overwhelmed, eventually they stopped charging people to enter and waved everyone through to ease the traffic they knew that was still to come. One worker told us he was on reserve but was called in to work because of the crowds and another said they were bringing in extra trains. A few of the trains we were on had no air conditioning or so much body heat generated that the A/C could not even be felt. While we were all uncomfortable in such close and cramped quarters, people offered to help out with our strollers, or laughed and played with our kids to keep them entertained while we travelled. They expressed sympathy towards the metro workers and drivers who were obviously overwhelmed.

It was an amazing experience for the people we encountered – likeminded, even though we were all different races, ages and from different places – I was amazed. We went to observe for ourselves, and these are our observations.

The truly amazing thing is that by the end of the event, the grounds of The Mall were clean. The trash was all in dumpsters, no property was damaged and no arrests were made. That was not the point of this event. We were there to encourage each other and to be encouraged by speakers who reminded us that there are Americans, who like us, want to see an honest and honorable society restored to our nation.

When we finally arrived to our hotel room and turned on the television to see if there was any news of the event there was nothing. Finally an “Urgent News Alert” flashed across the screen. 'Maybe this is it' we thought; but no, it was a news article that our news media truly considers to be of urgent importance: “Paris Hilton was arrested for possession of cocaine.”

Oh that honor would be restored to America

Just one of them days

2010-03-15T14:48:00.001-04:00

A Jehovah’s Witness stopped by the house this morning. They have been doing their rounds lately, inviting people in the neighborhood to a convention leading up to Easter. She was a sweetheart but she caught me at a bad time on more than one fronts. I opened the door in my pajamas with a half-naked baby in my arms and with two sets of eyes peering out between my legs. Yes it was 11:00am, but that’s beside the point, it’s been one of those Mondays.
I considered debating with her on our differences, but today was really not the time – we were speaking in Spanish (which is not my native tongue), I was in my pajamas, the kids were there, and my hair...well, I’ll spare you the details.

The thing is as a Christian I do believe what she presented as her intro: Jesus Christ, God’s son died for me – the worst of sinners so that I, by accepting this free gift, might be reconciled to a most Holy God. (Ephesians 2:8-9) The difference is I believe that is enough. I don’t believe I have to do more or “save” others to earn or guarantee my spot in heaven. By accepting Jesus’ gift my spot is reserved. (Ephesians 1:13-14)

What I admire of this woman or this religion per se is their tenacity. This is not the first time a lady from their congregation has knocked on our door or even written me a personal letter.
My motivation for telling others about Jesus is not because I need their salvation for me to get to heaven. I am motivated by my love for others: for families seeking direction; for young adults who feel immortal thinking that they have their youth, beauty and a promising career on their side. I am motivated by my love for teens who are often dazed and confused by what life offers; for friends who admire my faith or relationship with God but think that it is ‘good for me but not them’ and I am motivated by my love for family members who speak it, but have no idea what it means to live in the freedom that Christ gives.

Recently Lou and I were talking about Solomon in the Bible. He was a king who had everything a man could ever want, including unmatched wisdom, and yet with all these things, towards the end of his life he declared it all as meaningless. (Ecclesiastes 12:8)

I won’t knock on your door in the upcoming weeks, but I do pray that you would seek to know and accept the gift that leads to a relationship with Jesus Christ, the one who promised to give us life – abundant life.

My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life.

John 10:10

A good name?

2010-03-12T22:11:00.004-05:00

I read an interesting article this week that reported that Chilean looters returned almost $2 million dollars of stolen goods during a period of amnesty offered to them by the Chilean government. Everything from mattresses and flat-screen TVs to refrigerators were returned.
The Chilean president, Michelle Bachelet is quoted as saying:

"These are items that have nothing to do with survival — they reflect the moral damage of the people, some of whom came just to find things they could make money from,"

Other Chileans were angered by the looting not so much because of the monetary damage, but because of the damage done to Chile’s international image. Such Chileans are calling for prosecutions of those guilty of these crimes.

It was not that long ago that the US battled such questions of disaster, morality and punishment when we all watched in horror at the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. Many excused the behavior of hurricane, (or in this case earthquake) survivors as desperate and acts of survival. According to the article I mentioned,

When the earthquake shattered store windows, the temptation was too great, said the Rev. Luis Figueroa Vinet, a deacon at Concepcion’s cathedral. "The pig isn't guilty for what poverty brings," he said, invoking a colorful Chilean adage about inequality.

Yes, desperate times sometimes call for desperate measures. But what does stealing a flat screen TV in the midst of a national disaster have to do with providing food, safety or security for your family during a difficult time?

Maybe it’s not for me to say this, but in such times, is it okay to return to carnality? Is there no room for decency, respect of other’s property or even a code of morality?
I am sure the answer to these questions for most would be: who are you to judge?
Maybe I do not have the right to judge, but I do believe we will all answer to the Judge someday, and so I can only hope that my actions, my motives and even my reactions to terrible circumstances, disasters and utter despair would be different.

God is our refuge and strength,
always ready to help in times of trouble.
So we will not fear when earthquakes come
and the mountains crumble into the sea.
Let the oceans roar and foam.
Let the mountains tremble as the waters surge!

“Be still, and know that I am God!
I will be honored by every nation.
I will be honored throughout the world.”

-Psalm 46

Karate Kid…again.

2010-03-12T21:29:00.005-05:00

How can this be? Surely he was not THAT young. I remember watching the original Karate Kid and imaging dreamily that one day I would meet Ralph Macchio. I loved that movie!

Fast forward a lot of years to today. There is now a remake of the Karate Kid starring Jaden Smith, Will Smith’s son and Jackie Chan.

Watching the trailer, all I keep thinking is ‘why did they use Jaden? He is so young.’ Surely the Karate Kid that I was in love with umpteen years ago was a teenager...and the dreamiest kind at that.

At least he seemed like one at the time.

There will only be one Karate Kid in my mind and no one can beat Mr. Miyagi, but I have a soft spot for Jackie Chan, and Jaden...I’ll give him a chance too. Call me mushy but I’ll go for a good kid/family movie that is definitely going to be a funny trip down memory lane. It will take a while to get used to “take it off, put it on” instead of “wax on, wax off,” but for the laughs and the memories, I’ll adapt.

Bring It!

2010-03-10T12:42:00.001-05:00

This past weekend we went to a performance by Step Afrika! According to their website, the company is:

the first in the world dedicated to the tradition of stepping and is critically- acclaimed for its efforts to promote an understanding of and appreciation for stepping and the dance tradition's use as an educational tool for young people worldwide.

The performance we attended was geared towards kids, but it was interesting and enlightening nonetheless. Since I did not grow up in the US or live in an African-American community when we did move here, I really did not have much exposure to the history and culture that surrounds this art form.
Born in African American fraternities and based on African traditions and rhythms, stepping has branched out well beyond the confines of colleges to competitions, television and movies. Despite the bleeding out of this art form into popular culture, before seeing Step Afrika!’s performance, my closest encounter with stepping was watching Stomp the Yard.
Step Afrika! presented their performance by emphasizing to the kids what they considered to be three necessary principles: teamwork, commitment and discipline. The art form was presented as something approachable by all as long as there was an understanding as of where and how the art form developed.

Imagine my surprise when I later read an article entitled “All-White Steppers Win First Place: Black Community in Uproar.” The article points out that the all-white sorority that was initially announced the winners were later made to share the title with the second place group so as to appease the concerns of those within the African American community who were first of all upset that the all-white group entered this prestigious and traditionally all-black competition and second of all that they won!
Yes, there is talk that maybe they were favored to win because they were the underdogs or maybe because of the hype of the competition’s exposure on MTV’s special Step Off. But really and truly, it is not easy to stand in front of a predominantly African American audience and perform against other seasoned performers and still pull of an amazing performance:

And the Zeta Tau Alpha girls did.

All things considered, is the African American community really ready to share this unique art form, even if it means that, as in the case of the sororities, the student might someday outperform the teacher? If so, then why the uproar? Zeta Tau Alpha practiced teamwork, commitment and discipline, and won. I think they should be able to keep their victory and next year – all the others girls need to just Bring It!

Leftovers are twice blessed

2010-03-05T13:21:00.005-05:00

I tried a new recipe last night and I am savoring leftovers as I type. You have GOT to try this:
These seafood Enchiladas are yummy, even the second time around.
I would post a picture but...well...to put it nicely, I was not thinking of you in that moment.
I was thinking of how good this thing looked/smelled/tasted.

So sorry.

You snooze, you lose.

2010-03-04T17:55:00.010-05:00

Today’s song goes something like this (insert whiny voice here)

“my grapefruit...who ate my grapefruit?”

I am not sure why she insists on asking such questions, but in the mind of my little princess, it is okay to leave perfectly good food around other hungry residents of our home and expect to come back a few hours later and find it sitting there, exactly as she left it.

Today’s victim: her morning grapefruit. Eaten within ten minutes of being neglected, it took the princess until 4:00pm to realize it was not where she left it, and hence the song.

The culprit: my always-hungry little man

The reaction:

To appease my dear princess I served her a small handful of candy.

The result:

She has enjoyed them for about half an hour now: adorning herself with them, color-coordinating, counting...the problem is she never learns. So now it is I that am hoping she has lost track of how many blue candies she had remaining in that bowl over there...

hey, you snooze. you lose.

praying for Haiti

2010-01-15T18:44:00.003-05:00

I am sure you have heard about the latest catastrophe to hit Haiti. Hopefully by now you have given some funds to organizations that are there helping and handing out supplies to those who are suffering during this dire time of need. If you have not, then click on the link on my previous post and give, something!

I am not one to live by clichés, but I cannot help but notice that everyone from news anchors to celebrities are offering prayers for Haiti, and encouraging others to do the same. I don’t know about you, but for me prayer is more than a fleeting thought offered to some unknown being, nor is it some magic phrase that by saying ‘God, I pray for Haiti’ will result in everything being okay.

Even though my heart aches for the people of that land, I find that I am praying for things that may seem inappropriate at this time, but that are really needed to bring about healing to this land. Things like what?

Well for starters I am praying for:
1. The leaders – who are known to be corrupt, but who now more than ever need to stand up and act on behalf of the people and not of themselves.
2. The rescue workers – for safety, health, fortitude, and wisdom.
3. The people – who are hungry, frightened, hurting, disillusioned, angry and filled with despair. I am praying that they would know they are not forgotten, that the world stands with them, and that there is a God in heaven who is mindful of their situation.

God...mindful?

Yes.

We are not promised that our lives would be easy. Earthquakes, hurricanes, disease, loss of family members, loss of jobs, or loss of a home – all these things happen to the good and bad alike. The Bible says that God “…gives his sunlight to both the evil and the good, and he sends rain on the just and the unjust alike.” (Matthew 5:45)
Life is not always fair, but regardless the difference for those who hold on to a relationship with God is that we believe and find comfort in the fact that he says “never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”(Hebrews 13:5)

The anguish and despair felt by so many Haitians (on the island and off) is beyond anything I could fathom.
I keep trying to imagine losing everything, along with everyone else around me; all at once…it is heart-wrenching.
I pray that in addition to their physical needs, their need for hope would be met; a hope that only Christ can give; a hope that would not just restore their lives but that would give them life “abundantly”. (John 10:10)

Seafood Enchiladas

2010-01-14T14:09:00.000-05:00

Seafood Enchiladas
8 servings

Ingredients
1 onion, chopped
1 tablespoon butter
1 jalapeño - seeded & diced or 1 small can of diced green chilies (optional)
1/2 to 3/4 pound fresh crabmeat
1 pound shrimp - peeled, deveined and coarsely chopped
8 ounces Colby or Monterey Jack cheese
10 (10 inch) flour tortillas
1 cup half-and-half cream
1/2 cup sour cream
1/4 cup butter, melted
1 1/2 teaspoons dried parsley
1/2 teaspoon garlic salt

Directions
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
In a large skillet, sauté onions in 1 tablespoon butter until softened. Add the green chilies or jalapeño to the skillet, sauté for a minute more until onions are transparent.
Remove the skillet from heat and stir in crabmeat and shrimp. Shred the cheese and mix half of it into the seafood.
Place a large spoonful of the mixture into each tortilla. Roll the tortillas up around the mixture and arrange the rolled tortillas in a 10x14 inch baking dish.
In a saucepan over medium-low heat, combine half-and-half, sour cream, 1/4 cup butter, parsley and garlic salt. Stir until the mixture is lukewarm and blended. Pour sauce over the enchiladas, and sprinkle with remaining cheese.

Bake in preheated oven for 30 minutes.

Just a few things to note:
1. We like our food to have some kick so I added a jalapeño (seeded and chopped) to the mix.
2. I also used Monterey Jack cheese with pepper flakes instead of Colby cheese. By the way, while we are on the topic of cheese, grate your own cheese, please. It’s cheaper, it takes five extra minutes, and the flavor of the cheese is SO much more enjoyable.

original recipe from allrecipes.com

Un belle mélange

2010-01-14T12:57:00.005-05:00

Recipe: Un belle mélange (i) and Chile and Honey Chicken

There are days when sautéing, boiling, or any other form of cooking that requires me standing over a stove will not do. On such days I rely on my oven and the wonders that come from it when a few good ingredients are mixed together and thrown in.

This year I have a goal to introduce a new vegetable or food to my family at least once a month throughout the year. For today’s meal we are using sweet potato! No, it is not a Thanksgiving or Christmas dish, but believe it or not, this vegetable exists year round! It is not the first time we are eating it as a family, but I have longed for recipe that everyone in the family would enjoy (without it involving marshmallows, cinnamon or brown sugar).

As always, I promise you, this is easy and tasty. With all those requirements considered, today’s meal was born: un belle mélange (a beautiful mix)

Earthquake hits Haiti

2010-01-13T12:56:00.005-05:00

If you can

HELP
(click link above)

Then please do.

They do what?!

2010-01-05T15:08:00.012-05:00

Occasionaly I receive e-mail updates
about different age-specific facts or activities for the kids.
This one came for my little man.
Yes, he is two.

But really? I did not even know about this Fun Fact...

Star fish do what?!
Once again I am learning through the experiences of my children…
I guess it's time to get google-ing.

birds of a feather

2010-01-05T14:13:00.001-05:00

It’s a bit of an ongoing joke among our family that my dear little princess is in fact my sister’s child.
The similarities between them are uncanny: they look like; love to perform; are strong-willed and of late I have discovered they think alike…as scary as that is. I love my sister to death, but in some ways, we are as different as can be.
~~My little princess has been struggling with sucking her thumb.~~ We are struggling with the fact that our little princess sucks her thumb; she is more than fine with it. On a recent trip to the dentist, we were told to ~~bribe her~~ encourage her with rewards for not sucking her finger.
Simple enough, except that I could not think what to offer her that would make her stop partaking in this most comforting vice.
So I turned to my sister who had sucked her thumb for more years than necessary:
-“What did mom promise you that made you stop sucking your thumb?” I asked.
-Her simple answer? “Chocolate!”

I should have known. My sister has a love affair with chocolate that extends way beyond my monthly desire to stuff it down my throat with altering handfuls of pretzels…she is obsessed with it.
I should also have known that this would have been the perfect ~~bait~~ incentive for my little princess. She has been craving it ever since she could say the word cookie.

It has been about a week, and it has been a miracle. I just put her down to take a nap. She cuddled in her usual position, raised her thumb to her mouth, looked over at me and smiled; then she lowered it back down to her side. That smile simply says: have my chocolate ready for when I wake up!

I think the next phase is for me to teach her one of my sister’s little ditties from when she was growing up:

chocolate, gimme chocolate
I don’t think I can live without it,
In a saucer, in a plate
Or a German Chocolate Cake…
It’s chocolate, chocolate…
CHOCOLATE!

The Eye of a Tiger

2009-12-12T11:14:00.002-05:00

The only thing more upsetting to me than Tiger Wood’s actions over the past few years, is the media’s delight in seeing and parading his demise for all to see.

You would think we would all learn from his experience and yet it seems like we cannot even agree on the lessons learned. To some it “could not be true that he had THAT MANY affairs;” while others say “he is not AS BAD as some people like politicians or pastors who cheat;” and yet to others we should “leave him alone because he is only human and he never said he was perfect.”
It reminds me of the words of another famous athlete caught in transgressions of another sort. He went on to launch an entire add campaign around his mantra: "I am not a role model."

But really, so what if you are not a role model? So what if you are not a hero in your own eyes? So what if your husband, wife, boss, parents or friends will never know your actions – YOU DO! Isn’t that enough?

Tiger Woods was introduced to the world and portrayed as a great family guy who grew up under the watchful eyes of his parents. We all awwww-ed over pictures with him and his father playing golf at the ripe old age of 3, and it had such a profound impact on some that they introduced the sport to their young children all with the hopes that they too would raise another young Tiger.

I read a book earlier this year that touched on this very subject. It mentioned Ben Franklin’s autobiography in which the “chief emphasis was the necessity of becoming people of character.” In this way of thinking, “both happiness and success in life are directly related to becoming a person who is honest and kind, industrious and good.”
Obviously “success” is highly subjective in our culture nowadays. No one would deny that Tiger Woods was a professional success, but what about personally? Even if he wasn’t the most famous athlete, we all have a call to personal integrity: humility, consistency, trustworthiness and honesty.

This is not an attempt to blame Tiger’s parents, but I can’t help but reflect not only on my life, but on that of my children. How will I encourage them not just to be successful by the world’s standards, but more importantly by God’s? I highly recommend the book to which I am referring: Character Matters. I believe it is an absolute must-read, not just for parents, but for imperfect people seeking to lead a life with character.

The good thing for Tiger is that this is not the end,
“Personal perfection is impossible, but it is possible to aim for genuineness, honesty, consistency and moral purity, and to frankly acknowledge it when we fail. A person of integrity doesn’t seek to cover up or make excuses when he fails.”

While I hope and pray that the Woods are able to resolve their issues privately, I am taking this entire ordeal as a lesson learned; one that I hope to teach to my little ones as well.
Thank God that he does not look for us to be perfect, but for those of us who are Christians, he does expect us to live by His standards and not the world’s.

“[Our] attitude should be the same as Christ”

–Philippians 2:5

-all quotes, unless otherwise mentioned are taken from Character Matters by John & Susan Yates.

Kale (kal)

2009-12-11T11:20:00.004-05:00

Recipe: Ribollita and Damper Bread

So today we are going to delve into the world of cheap yet yummy veggies: kale. It is one of those greens that you walk right by in your supermarket because it looks so curly and scary, and I used to think so too…but it is approachable, and better yet edible, so yes, we are going there.
It will probably be sold either in bags or as open produce. I prefer to buy it as open produce, #1 because it is usually fresher, and #2, the portion is just enough to make this soup.
One note if buying kale as open produce: it has lots of curls and crevices and needs to be washed well.

I love to make this soup with a rustic bread that my family loves to eat with butter or olive oil. The recipes for both are below. They are perfect for a cold and rainy supper.
The bread takes almost an hour to bake, so make it first and while it is in the oven, begin the soup.
You can do this!

Un Belle Mélange (i)

2009-12-01T12:45:00.002-05:00

(serves 6)
Ingredients
2 large sweet potatoes (peeled and roughly chopped in 1” pieces)
2 large carrots (chopped in 1” pieces)
2 stalks celery (chopped in 1” pieces)
1 sweet onion (like Vidalia – roughly chopped)
2 sprigs fresh rosemary
2 sprigs fresh thyme (I forgive if you do not have these...go ahead use about 1/2 tsp. of each, dried)
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 tbsp. olive oil

Directions
Heat oven to 350°F. Line an 8x13” pan with foil. Combine all ingredients except the olive oil in the pan. Drizzle olive oil over vegetable, if desired, add more salt and pepper. Bake covered with foil in oven for 15 minutes. Remove foil and allow vegetable to continue to cook for another 15-20 minutes or until they are tender.

Note: This is an easy mix and various ingredients can be substituted to make it work. If you only have regular potatoes, go ahead and use them.

This can be paired with an easy no-nonsense chicken recipe like the following: Chili and Honey Chicken

Chili and Honey Chicken

2009-11-30T22:54:00.002-05:00

(adapted from The Best of Gourmet 2006)
(serves 6)
Ingredients
2 tablespoons chili powder
2 tablespoons mild honey
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
2 teaspoons salt
1 tsp. black pepper
6 each chicken legs and thighs

Preheat oven to 425°F. Line bottom of a 15”x10” shallow baking pan with foil and set an oiled large metal rack in pan.
Stir together chili powder, honey, lime juice, salt and pepper in a large bowl, then add chicken and turn to coat completely.
Transfer chicken to rack, arranging in 1 layer, then bake, turning once, until cooked thoroughly, 30 to 35 minutes.

Our family likes our chicken to have a bit of a crispy color and taste to it. So I usually turn the oven to broil at the end of it’s baking for no more than 5 minutes. If you do this, CHECK THE CHICKEN FREQUENTLY. Nicely baked becomes burned very quickly when it comes to broiling.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Now that dinner is on its way, and you have nothing to do. Make a quick salad and go tickle your little ones until your kitchen timer sounds off.

Creating thankful hearts

2009-11-28T16:03:00.007-05:00

The kids have come up with one thing or person they are thankful for each day since the beginning of the month. I am thinking it will probably be something we will begin to do as a tradition of sorts. There is so much in our daily lives that we have to be thankful for!

Here is what they came up with:

       Mommy                                                         Papi

     Little princess

little man                the dimpled one

friends family

our home and cars
food

health and strength

Jesus

the park

treats – ice cream, cookies, cake

cousins

God’s creation

animals

the wind

Papi's job

grandparents

The day itself has come and gone, but may we always maintain a spirit of Thanksgiving throughout the year. I am so grateful to have things to be thankful for, and to have someone to whom I can offer my thanks:

Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.

His love endures forever.

-Psalm 136

Australian Damper Bread

2009-11-20T21:21:00.000-05:00

Makes 1 loaf, about 10 servings

This bread takes me back to camp days in Jamaica. We called it dampers and on campfire nights, we would cook it over the fire and eat it with lots of strawberry jelly.
It is actually an Australian Bread that was "reportedly invented by convicts of Australia's bush country." It is a simple and rustic loaf and is absolutely delicious when served fresh and warm from the oven.

Ingredients
1 package dry yeast
1/4 cup warm water (about 110° F)
1 cup warm milk (about 110° F)
About 3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoon cold butter or margarine

Directions
Sprinkle yeast over warm water in a small bowl; stir briefly. Let stand until foamy (about 5 minutes). Stir in milk; set aside.
Mix 3 cups of the flour, baking powder, and salt in a large bowl. With a pastry blender or 2 knives, cut in butter until mixture resembles fine crumbs (or rub butter into flour mixture with your fingers). Add yeast mixture and stir until evenly moistened.
Turn dough out onto a lightly floured board and knead until smooth (2 to 3 minutes), adding more flour as needed to prevent sticking. Shape dough into a lumpy 5- to 6-inch round. Dust lightly with flour and place in a greased 8-inch-round cake pan. With a razor blade or sharp knife, make an X-shaped cut about 1/2" deep and 3 inches long in top of loaf.

Bake on lowest rack of a 375° oven until well browned (about 55 minutes). Turn out onto rack and let cool briefly. Serve warm.

recipe from Sunset Breads

Ribollita

2009-11-20T11:26:00.000-05:00

(Serves 8)

Ingredients
1 (14.5-ounce) can white beans, such as Great Northern or cannellini

Kosher salt

1/4 cup olive oil, plus extra for serving

1/4 pound large diced pancetta or smoked bacon

2 cups chopped yellow onions (2 onions)

1 cup chopped carrots (3 carrots)

1 cup chopped celery (3 stalks)

3 tablespoons minced garlic (6 cloves)

1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes

1 (28-ounce) can diced tomatoes

4 cups coarsely chopped kale

1/2 cup chopped fresh basil leaves

8 cups chicken stock, preferably homemade

1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan, for serving

Directions
Drain and rinse the beans. Set aside in bowl with just enough water to cover the beans.

Heat a large stockpot and add the bacon until browned, and onions and cook over medium-low heat for 5 minutes, until the onions are translucent. Add the carrots, celery, and garlic, 1 tablespoon of salt, the pepper, and red pepper flakes.

Cook over medium-low heat for 5 to 7 minutes, until the vegetables are tender. Add the tomatoes with their liquid, the kale, and basil and cook over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, for another 7 to 10 minutes.

Pour half of the beans in a food processor fitted with a steel blade; puree half of the beans with their liquid. Add to the stockpot, along with the remaining whole beans. Add the chicken stock to the pot and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer over low heat for 20 minutes.

Taste for seasoning and serve hot in large bowls. Sprinkle with Parmesan and drizzle with olive oil.

Neither here nor there

2009-11-19T14:19:00.000-05:00

I am in the place of in between: do I continue to wear maternity pants, and feel a sense of satisfaction that they fit me loosely? Or do I embrace the fact that I still have yet to fit into my normal pants?
Yes, it has only been two months, but I am well aware of the fact that the older my dimpled one gets, the older my excuse gets for why my clothes still don’t fit.

This is a mental battle of course, and I know you know what I mean, it is some kind of self-inflicted torture that I put myself through. I think I have come up with a solution though: if I cut the tags off my pants that shout glaringly “MATERNITY,” then I won’t have to face them every time I prepare to put them on.

At least for now that seems like a viable solution.

bowl full o' lemons

2009-11-16T22:22:00.003-05:00

recipe: Ginger Lemonade

I’ve been feeling down lately, for no particular reason apart from my occasional desire to wallow in self-pity. It is really very silly of me considering that I am so blessed compared to so many. And even without comparing myself to “many,” I am still so blessed compared to where I was 10 years ago, or where I was yesterday, simply because I have lived to see today.

I was reminded this morning of the story of Job, one of my favorite books in the Bible. After suffering many trials and difficulties, Job says “Shall we accept good from God and not trouble?” Ultimately my point is not to debate from where trouble stems in our lives, but rather when trouble or difficulties do come, how should we respond, especially towards God? In Habakkuk 3:17-19, despite the dismal circumstances, he says “...yet I will rejoice in the Lord...”

It’s kind of hard to rejoice when you are busy feeling sorry for yourself. It reminded me of the old adage: when life deals you lemons, go ahead and make some lemonade. I am not usually that literal of a person, but today I decided to take this lesson literally. Of course it doesn’t hurt that I love lemonade.

If I have it, I have not lost it, and that alone is reason enough to give Him thanks.

The Dratted Kitchen?

2009-11-16T22:20:00.001-05:00

Lately I have had conversations with various friends regarding their frustrations in the kitchen and the meals they serve their families.

Being in the kitchen and cooking is like second nature to me. It comes from a long line of powerful women on both sides of my family who ran their homes from their kitchens. In their kitchens dwelt smells from varying lands, laughter from various friends and families, and a love that showed with each meal they served.

To hear of others who see cooking or being in the kitchen as a fearful and scary endeavor is so foreign to me, but I stand here not in judgment but rather hoping that my little insight will serve as an encouragement.
I have been sharing recipes and ideas with various ones by email, and so I have decided to start bringing them here to you. From time to time I will post recipes for any and everything, whether from my mental stash or from other sources.

First let's dispel some myths:
1. It is not expensive to cook with fresh fruits and vegetables; they are not as scary as you think, even though they are not sold with directions.
2. Cooking a good meal does not need to take you two hours.
3. Dinosaur chicken fingers do not count as a balanced meal.

I know not everyone enjoys the kitchen or the cooking process. So I promise I will try to keep it real simple. If you have any ideas or recipes you want to share, feel free to let me know.

let the games begin

2009-11-12T10:33:00.002-05:00

I found him outside more than once yesterday after hearing the chime on our door that lets me know someone just opened it. My little princess emphatically denied opening it and so my glare naturally shifted to the chubby-fingered little man who I had just recovered from a soon-to-be exciting adventure outside.

This morning I witnessed the act: he is now tall enough to unlock the exterior doors.
Joy.
Just in time for his second birthday and thankfully only one day after I sat myself down to begin reading The New Strong-Willed Child, a book I avoided up until this point but that I am now looking forward to reading so that I may gain some sort of insight into what keeps my little ones ticking.

I am hoping the insight will be therapeutic. And for this reason I will first admit that I have a problem:
Hello, my name is Ace, and I am mother to a strong-willed child.

Thankfully he is adorably cute and very loving towards his mommy, who melts with each chubby-fingered hug that he gives.
Let the games begin.

A stitch in time

2009-11-11T15:03:00.003-05:00

Pure necessity has caused me to dig deep into the archives of my memory to those days when I would endure the sewing section of home economics. Some would say it is in keeping with my role as a stay-at-home mom, others would say that wiping snotty noses and cooking each day more that fills that role. I, however am fully embracing the expectancies once cast on the 60’s housewife and embracing them as my own: I have decided to make my own curtains.

This necessity stems from the fact that we have really big and tall windows in our home that have remained uncovered and thus highly inefficient (energy-wise) since we moved here.
The length of curtain required is not commonly, nor reasonably sold in stores without the order being custom, and so I have decided to dig deep into my inner housewife and take on the project myself.

Now before you oooh and aaahh let me just say that those of you who take on such crafts varying from gourmet cookery to scrapbooking, cake baking, painting, jewelry making, photography, etc. amaze me everyday. And with that said I can now say that I amazed myself (note: this is not a blog on humility).

I borrowed a book from the library, bought my fabric, cut, stitched, hung and completed curtains for our living room. The result…drum roll please…

So please, do tell...what crafts/hobbies do you enjoy or find it necessary to do?

a little secret

2009-11-02T12:01:00.002-05:00

This morning my little ones and I read about being happy and grateful, for big things and little things. Little did I know that this lesson would so quickly be applied in my life.

I ventured out to the stores afterwards with three little ones in tow. For those of you without three little ones, this is a little thing; for those of you with three or more little ones, you know that though small, this is a BIG thing.
My kids surprised me! I did not yell; there was no bribing involved; and they behaved so well – for three kids all under four! They received complements from strangers and they acted shyly giving the knowing grin that says ‘…don’t worry we have our days…’
And they do, but today, they were angels and I found myself thanking God for this little gift to me.

While we talked earlier this morning, my little princess said that one of the little things she was thankful for was her milk; a little thing, yes and yet so major for children worldwide who don’t enjoy a cold glass of milk every morning.
So, I ask you…what else?
What other little things do we have in our lives for which we can be grateful? Maybe the warmth of the sun on your cheek this morning, or the chill in the air, maybe the beautiful leaves falling all around, or maybe something as little as the breath you just took.

“I have learned the secret of being happy at any time.”
– Philippians 4:12 ICB

Be grateful.

Mix it up and get moving!

2009-10-27T15:59:00.004-04:00

Two days in a row!

I know it’s a very small milestone but I am applauding myself nonetheless; this is my second day of working out while the kids take their naps. I know there will be days when the weight of my eyes will outweigh the extra weight on my body, but for now I am enjoying the moment.

And while here on the mountaintop I will invite you to come and join me – get a move on! Yes, for the sake of your heart, your health and those around you, but most importantly for yourself.

There really is no need for structure per se – just move! I figure we can spur each other on in this venture. I found myself dancing on the treadmill and around the room to today’s mix. So here’s the deal: I’ll share today’s mix with you if you promise to listen to it WHILE running, walking, dancing – aka moving.

Not because it will help keep your blood pressure and cholesterol levels low; or because it will help raise you metabolism and strengthen your heart; or because you will probably look silly while doing it and smell funky afterwards, but do it because if you do you will realize that it can be a fun time for you, and just you.

So go ahead, be selfish, take some time and get moving!
This was my mix today. Feel free to suggest your own.
Atmosphere – TobyMac
Catchafire (Whoopsi Daisy) – TobyMac
Pump It – Black Eyed Peas
Don’t Phunk With My Heart – Black Eyed Peas
Dum Diddly – Black Eyed Peas
J Train – TobyMac
Lose My Soul - Afterparty (feat. Kirk Franklin & Mandisa) – TobyMac
Mas Que Nada – Sergio Mendes & The Black Eyed Peas
More Life – Papa San
Step Pon Di Enemy – Papa San
Where Is the Love? – Black Eyed Peas

He loves me…bra or not!

2009-10-20T22:30:00.002-04:00

I ran into a headline today that made my blood boil: Somali Women Whipped for Wearing Bras. While I recognize that the men involved in this horrid and humiliating practice are hardline extremists, it’s not their actions as much as the reaction of those of us in more “tolerant” environments that upsets me.

Why are we so quick to call some in our own sphere intolerant for the quickest and simplest things and yet a major offense such as this gets brushed aside as 'cultural' or worse yet as simply another example of religious extremism?
I know for far too many this story just provides another rationale as to why they believe the world would be better off without religion, but for me it provides another example as to why I have made the right choice in choosing relationship over religion.

My relationship with Jesus Christ comes as a response to the love God has for me regardless of who I am or what I have done. The Bible says God loves me with an “everlasting love.” And that he “so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” The passage goes on to say that “God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.” – John 3:16-17.

The relationship offered to us through Jesus means that we don’t have to do anything to gain the favor of God, he has offered us the gift of his Son and all we have to do is choose to accept this gift and believe in Him. The life that follows is a response of gratitude for this wondrous gift from a holy God.

With all that said, my beliefs and this relationship of which I spoke is part of why I am so disappointed in reading an article like the one I mentioned above. The God I serve does not require me to dance around with no bra or to strap a bomb to my body or to walk around calling those who do not believe like I do infidels, but he has called me to love even those who believe and live out such beliefs.

So today, while the rest of the world chooses to turn a blind eye, I choose to pray for those women and their oppressors that one day they will come to experience the relationship that makes all attempts at religion look like brass.

a mom’s job is never done

2009-10-17T17:41:00.006-04:00

We are officially flying solo.
My mother-in-law left today leaving us to embrace the reality of our three kids. Come Monday it will be me and me alone to face them from 7am to 7pm. Talk about working overtime.

I have been extremely blessed to have the help of both the moms in our lives (mine and Lou’s), at different times over the past few weeks. While I often dwell on the role of a mother being that of head cook and bottle washer, over the past few weeks I have realized that the résumé extends to so much more.
I am not one of those who believe that my children are mine as well as my mom’s responsibility simply because she is their grandmother. I see them as mine and I am grateful for the help grandmothers offer but I don’t feel I am entitled to it. However, I realized over the past few weeks that their help and their love is not because they pity us as we are sometimes overwhelmed with the onslaught of little ones, but rather an expression of the love they have for us as their children. They do it because they are our mothers.

Years after wiping our noses and changing our diapers, they hardly see the faces of their actual grandchildren as much as they see the faces of us, their children. They are revisiting the joy they experienced when they first had and enjoyed us as their own.
They tell us how we smiled just like this one, or ate just like that one. They tell us stories of when we were little…our first fall, our first smile or of the time we, like my little man, would run around in a t-shirt with our bums peeping out beneath.
They come, visit, help and love because they are mothers who still after all these years are in love with their children.

I have often been told that we have 18 years with our children; that we will help shape their lives and that at that point they will go out in to the world, sink or swim. This I have not found to be entirely true. I don’t live under the wings of my parents but I am so glad for the role they still play in my life. I am even more excited that they play a role in my children’s lives. Someone reminded me recently that our children learn how to treat their parents from the way we treat ours. What a blessing that for these past few weeks they have also been able to see how parents (ours), treat their children.

I believe the most rewarding thing about grandchildren in the eyes of our moms is that grandchildren unknowingly give them a gift: a glimpse into the past, a remembrance of when they became what they forever will be, a mom.

Tuesday the 13th

2009-10-13T20:19:00.004-04:00

Today is the date; the due date on which we were expecting our third bundle of joy. Despite the guesses, wagers and assurances of others that the baby was one sex or the other, this pregnancy was especially special because we had no idea what we were expecting.

Our surprise arrived three weeks early, and so today is actually a celebration of three weeks living with my new little man, the one I affectionately call: the dimpled one. The first of our children to have prominent dimples on his face, as Lou and I have, he warms my heart with each little smiling revealing the little crater that has become his trademark.

His siblings adore him. Singing to him, kissing him and just simply loving him. On most days I find his older brother, my little man on top of the dimpled one, his legs sticking out of the stroller, car seat or swing as his face is planted on top of his brother’s while giving him kisses.

We all watched and waited as my tummy grew, as kicks became evident and now as he changes with each passing day we are still in amazement that he was already known, even when we didn’t know what to expect…

“O Lord…you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful…your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me were written in our book before one of them came to be.
–Psalm 139:13-16

Leaving Legacies

2009-09-19T08:03:00.006-04:00

A dear friend of mine lost her grandmother this week. My heart ached for her as she was not able to make it home in time to say goodbye. It sadly reminded me of when my grandmother died a few years ago. Even though we were able to see her while she was ill, we were not able to make it back before she passed.

The things I do remember from that visit are so bitter-sweet.
My grandmother was a gregarious person who loved God, life and looking good. She loved people, good food, good music and she loved having those things around her at all times. She was a stern disciplinarian and yet the life of the party at the same time.
I remember seeing her in the hospital bed with a look of such sadness in her eyes. I did everything I could not to cry when I saw her. I knew she needed me to be strong.
Her nails and her hair were a mess, something she would never normally allow to take place. I held her hands and cut and cleaned her nails for her…even her toes…she knew that was love…because she had asked me many times before and I would tell her I was not touching her feet!
As I did she asked me “…no babies yet?”

I am the oldest of her grandchildren and the only one who was married at the time. Lou and I had only been married for a year, but that was long enough for her, she wanted great-grands and it broke my heart in that moment that I could not announce the news she wanted so badly to hear: “yes.”

I remember that conversation today as I watch my little ones run around. I cannot believe they do not know her. I know she would sneak nail polish on my little princess’ fingernails; and she certainly would bake anything my little man’s heart desired. They would love her back, my little princess combing her thinning hair while my little man would give her the little kisses that only he can give.
They don’t know it, but I see her in them everyday. My princess is very particular with how her hair is done. Her outfit needs to be just right, and her shoes must match! She did not learn this from me…at least I don’t think so…to me, she is my grandmother’s child. My little man’s appetite would make any grandmother smile. He would have loved her lasagna, sweet potato casserole, cheese cake or her yummy ice cream cake! No one ever left her house hungry.

Thankfully my paternal grandmother is still alive, we visited her last weekend. At 100 she is still going strong although she has now been confined to her bed. The kids love to see her and when we arrived they ran straight to her room. My little man bathed his “anny” [Granny] in kisses, and they both sang for her at the top of their lungs, everything from 'Jesus Loves Me' to 'Twinkle, twinkle little Star'. It left her smiling as she sang along with them and I was glad that we were able to brighten up the little room that has become her mainstay.

Our parents and grandparents have left such a legacy with each of us. I know no one is perfect, but I choose to cherish the good, and I am learning to critique and step away from the bad.

So I have to ask, are your grandparents or your parents alive today? Have you told them you love them this week? Forget the bad; I know there must be some good, thank them for that legacy in your life.
-Ace

“Sons are a heritage from the LORD, children a reward from him.” – Psalm 127:3

dear God…please…a boy!

2009-08-20T09:57:00.005-04:00

There are some days more than others that I know

he is wishing and praying that the baby I am carrying is a boy!

Letting go

2009-08-19T16:07:00.007-04:00

This past weekend in church I noticed the teenage son of a friend sitting with his girlfriend and his little brother. I did pay attention to the service, but my eyes kept drifting towards them. I noticed the giggles, the whispers and the moments when their heads looked straight ahead as they seemingly listened to the pastor. All the while my mind wondered if his mother knew; if she was okay that he was sitting shoulder to shoulder with a female who was not her! His little brother did not seem to mind, he received the head rubs little bros often get, and his eyes sparkled when his big brother looked at him or put his arm around him. I was torn. Yes, in my defense, I was paying attention. I could easily tell you about the sermon. Remember I am a woman and a mother – we are masters at multi-tasking – even if that means day dreaming while spying on someone, and still knowing when to say ‘amen’ throughout our pastor’s sermon. The truth is I was picturing my little man. I was picturing his pudgy little fingers rubbing the arm of some girl that ignited his face with his contagious smile. I pictured him as the big brother he will be in a few weeks and I hoped and prayed that if and when this girl came along that he would not reject his younger sibling or be ashamed to put an arm around him or her. I wished in my heart that he would love his younger sibling as this young man did, even if the current ‘girl of his dreams’ was sitting at his other side. As our pastor concluded his sermon from the book of Habakkuk he reiterated Hab. 2:4. Though times are hard financially – many have lost their homes or jobs; though some see nothing but despair ahead and even though others have lost marriages, families or their children – “…the righteous will live by their faithfulness to God…” While I pray to remember my need to live by faith in the trials and joys of this life I can only pray the same for my children as they begin to face the experiences their lives will bring – siblings, friends, school, sports and yes, waaaaaaaaaaaay down the road, relationships. I pray that they too will learn to live in faithfulness to God and that when the time is right I will be able to trust their decisions and learn to let go.

Ginger Lemonade Recipe

2009-08-16T21:13:00.007-04:00

(Serves 8)

Lou would say that I love to put ginger in everything. Well, I don't put it in everything, but I do use it a lot. Maybe it comes from my Caribbean upbringing, but I love ginger. Here’s a quick recipe for ginger lemonade:

2 Quarts water
1 cup granulated sugar, 1 cup brown sugar (I like brown sugar in my lemonade, if you don’t use granulated instead).
2 inch piece of ginger sliced
2 cups freshly squeezed lemon juice (about 12 medium-sized lemons)

In an 8-quart saucepan combine sugar, water and ginger root. Heat to boiling, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat.
Stir in lemon juice. Cool for 15 minutes. Remove ginger.
Refrigerate lemonade at least 1 hour, or until chilled.
Serve over ice, and garnish with lemon slices.

On hiatus no more

2009-08-07T12:40:00.000-04:00

I’m not sure if I need to apologize for my absence for the past few months. Actually I am pretty sure I do not need to. I needed and appreciated the break. Not just from the world of blogging and social networking in general, but more so from my own dependence on comments and feedback from any and all sources. I have been absent from blogging and Facebook for the summer, and while there have been days that I literally had to fight the urge to log in and forget my quest for silence, I am glad I have stuck it out and I am grateful for the time I have spent reading; with my family; and completing various projects around the house. I have missed your stories and anecdotes. It’s amazing that even through the hum of this vast thing called the internet, relationships are built and maintained (to a certain extent). Beyond that I treasure and value so much the relationships that were strengthened and maintained this summer through other mediums – the phone, email, and through actual face to face encounters…those friendships and relationships remain priceless. If you are already on top of keeping these various factors of your life separate and well-contained, kudos to you; but for me the balance had become a bit of a struggle. There is a passage in the Bible that says: “Everything is permissible”— But not everything is beneficial. “Everything is permissible” — But not everything is constructive. -1 Corinthians 10:23 While I am positive that passage was not referring to Facebook or any other social networking site, I do believe it has some bearing on the way I currently feel towards them. It goes on to say: Nobody should seek his own good, but the good of others. I hope and pray that my re-emergence here will not just serve my own purposes, but will serve as a means to encourage you, make you think, make you laugh and hopefully remind you that despite the chaos of this world that surrounds us daily, we serve a God who loves us and has said himself…“I have loved you with an everlasting love.”

Just one of them days

2009-08-07T11:19:00.001-04:00

We were considering getting one of the leash thingys for our little princess when my little man was born. She would just take off running when she was upset about something when I was out with them both...in parking lots, in stores, wherever. Thankfully, she got over it, and we never did buy the leash. Probably for good reason. This video might have been of me. I am in no way defending this lady. I don't know all the details of this case. What I do know is that there are those days...

How exactly do you explore in ballet slippers?

2009-03-18T11:01:00.003-04:00

I am not sure how I feel about all this. Actually I am a bit disappointed: Dora has apparently grown-up.

The response to the outrage of concerned parents is that our cute, chubby, sneaker-wearing Dora will not disappear. She will just have an alter personality: Dora (at about 10 years old) in order to market to tweens.

Really I think the math they used is Dora+Bratz = Dora in ballet slippers, with hair extensions.

Whatever happened to cartoons being ageless?

What do you think?

anxiously awaiting...

2009-03-16T15:09:00.012-04:00

Someone I know is VERY excited about her birthday…a month from now. It is ALL she talks about.

Well, that and about the fact that she IS a princess.

She is so excited that she made herself a play-doh cake today, sang Happy Birthday to herself…in the third person, and blew out her own crayon candles. I am sure there is so some child psychologist out there who would probably say that she is a bit self-obsessed…I just can't believe she came up with it all.

MOM!

2009-03-11T14:04:00.005-04:00

Whether you have only had one, are one, or about to be one; whether you only have distant memories or this is your daily routine, this video is priceless. Thanks mom!

hormonal tendencies

2009-03-05T12:10:00.003-05:00

This morning did not start out the best. I had my first good pregnancy cry. I am not one to blame my emotions on the changes in my body, be it menstrual or maternal but today…I am holding up the banner that says ‘I am…’ so that I can remain in my misery and wallow in self-pity. I am studying the book Experiencing God with a group of wonderful ladies at my church. After looking at how to know what God wants, see what God can do and all that wondrously easy part of the study, I am at the part that leaves me stumped: the part where I have to act; the part where I need to adjust my life to fit God’s purposes and not mine. I am way too spiritual to admit that my meltdown this morning was probably closer tied to this challenge of trust and faith than to a hormonal imbalance on the part of my body. See the challenge is that if I believe God is who He says He is, then I really have no reason not to trust him in this season of pause that has become my life. No reason to think that He is not in control on days when I want to go have lunch at a nice Thai restaurant with great co-workers – no kids – dressed in a great skirt and a daring pair of heals. I have no reason to trust that He is not in control on days when I try to balance our finances with one paycheck realizing that even if I was to be out fervently searching for a job right now, I probably would not be able to find one in my field that would really make an impact when considering all the additional costs of me going out to work. I have no reason to trust that He is not in control on days when I feel I want to lock my almost three-year old in a closet. He is always there to encourage me and make me strong in ways I would never expect. This morning after my meltdown my princess was giving a concert standing on the stage that also happens to be the ottoman in our family room. It was my turn to perform and so I climbed up and began to sing the words of her chosen song: Jesus loves me this I know For the Bible tells me so Little ones to him belong They are weak but He is strong. Wouldn’t you know it…those words became so real to me right then and there! I clutched the doll that was my microphone a little tighter, and sang it a little louder…with those crazy emotions welling up in me again, I just had to stop and give Him thanks that though I felt like such a little one, and so weak in that very moment, He once again has given me strength to face a new day.

For you my princess

2009-03-04T15:05:00.006-05:00

She has been so intrigued by the process.
I shared with her that there is a baby in mommy’s tummy.
Yes, we are expecting #3.
To her, this is the first journey. She will observe and understand a lot more than the one before.
She watched the heart beating on the first sonogram and I watched her face as her little mind tried to understand how they could take a picture of the baby “inside” mommy’s tummy.

Most times she doesn’t remember.
I have been blessed to not be suffering with morning sickness thus far,
But there are moments when she does.
And in those moments she wants to see the pictures.
Who would have thought this would mean this much to her?
A while back I showed her a magazine we first received when I was pregnant with her. It shows snippets of photographs from the book A Child is Born by Lennart Nilsson.
I did it on a whim really, not expecting her to be drawn to it,
But she was…
She counted the fingers and carefully studied the eyes that at 8 weeks are already forming.
She was in awe.
We flipped through to the birth and I paused wandering if to keep going, but she asked,
-“What’s wrong with the mommy?”
As we saw the pictures of moms in labor, I brushed over it quickly and showed her the after…
After all the pain, weight gain, and tears the mommy was smiling again and holding on to her precious baby.

This baby is our third, but to her it’s her first.

We do this ritual at least once a week. She asks to see pictures of the baby and we flip through the book looking as her sibling grows from the mysterious dance of molecules and cells to the miraculous human being that she herself is now.

I am boy!

2009-03-04T14:32:00.006-05:00

Slugs and snails and puppy dog tails…that’s what little boys are made of... Or so they say. My little man happens to also have some sugar and spice and many things nice mixed in there, but he is certainly ‘boy’. Adventures this week that keep me on my toes (things his sister never did…) • Play with any and every outlet or wire, hidden or visible. • Climb into the empty bathtub without the foggiest idea how to get out. Call for mom in a half moan/half-cry until she finally finds him.

• Unravel the toilet paper. At least once daily. • Figure out, by accident, how to spray others with the hose. Enjoy the reaction and continue to spray others and self.

• Drink from hose. • Eat anything that falls on the floor – quickly – before mom comes along and ruins the fun. • Eat anything. • Pull his sister’s hair if she dares to harass him. • Turn off the computer when mom seems the most intrigued with something on the screen. Smile when she reacts in shock at the black screen before her. • Flirt with the ladies anywhere he goes – flash a smile, say ‘hi’, tell them sweet nothings…whatever keeps them coming, and whatever keeps his sister’s eyes rolling in dismay. • Play with the water in the toilet. Act horrified when mom finds him. • Melt his mother’s heart at least once a day with a hug, kiss, or his world-renowned “cheeeessseee.”

The devil is in the details

2009-02-15T08:38:00.006-05:00

We bought our first home more than five years ago. I remember being so nervous about signing the quarter inch thick stack of papers that lay before us on the table. We had reviewed them before, read all the fine print and made sure we knew all that was expected of us before we signed on the dotted line. Since then we have moved and bought our second home, but still the idea of signing or agreeing to something that is more expensive than any reasonable sum of money that I could produce almost immediately is still overwhelming to me.

This week therefore was especially unnerving for me as I watched politicians and lawmakers barter around a bill for close to $800 billion dollars like if it was nothing. As if they could go to some bank account that only they know about and pay it all back if needs be.
This magical stack of papers is more than a 1,000 pages in length, more than 8” thick and involving more money than you and I or our children could ever pay back in their lifetimes. It was complete with additions, omissions and hand-scribbles.

I watched in shock on Thursday night as one lawmaker on television complained that it was 10:00pm and he still had not seen the final version of the bill yet. The final version was finished later that night so that they could begin voting to approve it by 7:00am the next morning in time for Nancy Pelosi to fly out for her vacation to Italy later that afternoon. Maybe the ease of agreeing to something like that so flippantly comes from knowing that they are dealing with “other people’s money”. I just consider it an awesome responsibility that I think would take more than 5 hours through the middle of the night to review. You know what they say; the devil is in the details.

Recently I saw a video with a suggestion as to how we could ease the financial crisis on our wallets from one day to the other. Considering that we have been running a small company under which I do my part-time work, I actually know the suggestion would ease companies into having more funds, and certainly allow for consumers to have more money in their pockets.

Anyway, instead we have a bill that is almost twice the cost of the Iraq war. Our president promised that we would be able to see and know all that was going on in Washington. In this case, not even lawmakers have had the time to see and know what is going on.
I just pray that in the end, the devil that is in those details does not come back to bite us all in the butts.

Gifted hands

2009-02-06T09:50:00.005-05:00

It is African American History Month here in the US, and while I am not an African-American myself nor do I claim to be an expert on their culture or history, every once in a while something will grab my attention.

Many years ago I read a book, Gifted Hands by Dr. Ben Carson. He came from very humble beginnings to become the director of pediatric neurosurgery at Johns Hopkins Children's Center. His story is being re-enacted on TNT this weekend with Cuba Gooding Jr. portraying Dr. Carson. This is a great family story and I highly recommend you watch it. Cuba Gooding Jr. was recently interviewed by MSN TV, this is what he had to say about his role in this film:

I had heard the name Ben Carson. I knew that he was a neurologist, but did not know really what he had done. But when the script came to me and when they mentioned his name as being the first to successfully separate Siamese twins, I was intrigued. Then, after reading the screenplay and finding out his life story and how he had come from such humble beginnings in Detroit, how his father wasn't there and how his mother raised him, how they used their faith to make it through the tough times, I said, "That's me. That's my life!" That's exactly what I went through. I think that was the connection. I'm drawn to this type of storytelling.
Here’s the trailer:

So, February 7th at 8/7 Central on TNT, watch it and let me know what you think.

all dressed up

2009-02-05T16:07:00.012-05:00

I told my little princess it was going to be cold today. She responded, “Mommy, snow?” I wish. It was cold, but there was no snow. Although there could have been…the temperature was in the 30’s last night and this morning! Imagine that! It reminded me of what I would call “pointless winters” spent up north. You know? The ones where it would be cold, but no snow, nothing to look at or enjoy…just cold, and more freezing cold where the air just blows right through you. Well, this was not that kind of cold. But please know, if you are now suffering in that kind of cold, I empathize. I have been there. However, this cold was a luxury for us all (at least in my home). I know there are those of you who HATE it, but this blog is not about you either. We enjoyed being dressed up in sweaters and feeling a chill in the air. We walked to the end of the walkway. Caught our shadows, and that was it, at least for now. Hope wherever you are that you are keeping warm.

armed and ready

2009-02-05T10:55:00.004-05:00

I have long been avoiding this. Or maybe I have just been in denial but I think it is here. He screams, he pulls hair, he grabs what he wants, he cries… She does all the things I know a big sister does when the little ones are in the way. She tattles; she screams; she hits and shoves (when she thinks I am not watching); she declares him to be tired; she counts…1 2 3…and threatens to give him pow-pow. (By the way, that is not a learned behavior from me…must be something she got from Backyardigans.) We have entered the battle of the siblings, also known as sibling rivalry. I have been saying he is too young for this really to be just that, but no, this little man can defend himself! For now the tête-à-têtes have been involving no more than a toy here or an unwarranted shove there, but my mind is already drifting to the highly inflammatory fights I had with my siblings as children. I distinctly remember a roller skate going through a closed door in one incident; and as scary as it sounds one did involve a weak and somewhat fearful toss of a butcher knife. They say you should pray for your kids, and I now have a renewed desire to pray that they will not be like me or my siblings in this regard. In defense of my parents and my siblings, we were never in any real danger. Our bodily injuries always involved the other by default and never by any direct involvement. For that, I think I have to also give thanks for the prayers of my mother. They availed much. And so, I am off...to my knees. For I know that no amount of intervention on my part is going help in this situation as time passes, for it seems that they are already armed and ready.

Keep the change

2009-02-03T14:18:00.006-05:00

I think deep inside I really hate change. Or maybe I just hate confusing revamps. I hate when MSN gets the brilliant idea to update Hotmail and everything else associated with it. I hate when Facebook decides to ‘get creative’ and revamp everything we ever knew of the former to introduce a “better” product for us all. There are days I am grateful for such updates, but today is not one of those days. I went to buy toothpaste today, and our usual was not there. There was a brighter than white version; a brighter than the bright white version and a gel with sparkles for that extra clean version. But our “usual” was not there. Either that or the packaging was revamped, redesigned to look sleeker, cooler, or just to annoy customers like me who want to get in and get out. This is a big deal. I assure you it is. As I stand here with a blank stare at the shelves of toothpaste minutes are passing…at least four so far. I am trying to convince my princess not to take that one or that one, but to give me minute and I will let her know which one to drop into our cart. Another minute passes and I wonder what others think as they come and go while I stand and stare. Apparently their “usuals” are still here. I close my eyes and grab one; I put it back. This is a big deal. This will determine for the next month or so if I will be cursing advertisers every morning and evening (and sometimes after lunch) for the next month or so. Great, now you know my brushing habits. I sometimes skip midday. My dentists have always loved my teeth and they should. My parents spent enough money on braces for them not to! I am actually a bit obsessed with teeth and oral hygiene in general; hence the need to get this right. I chose one. My princess was happy I had finally decided and she faithfully delivered my choice to our shopping cart. I watched carefully as the cashier scanned it, and I stared long and hard as I unpacked it…I am going to have a bunch of bitter mornings if I don’t like this. But then again, I guess like any change, I could be presently surprised.

Choo-choo

2009-01-30T14:15:00.006-05:00

It is a new year, and I am fully embracing my career-path as a mom, at home, with two young ones. I am adding to my résumé daily…ingenuity, ability to handle adversity, multi-tasker… Today I completed a few things on the road peacefully with the promise that afterwards we would go and play with the train. (Aka – go to the bookstore so that mommy can drink some tea and read while her little ones delightfully push train cars around in circles on a wooden track). We arrived to the bookstore to take our place around the train. There was no train. Only a sign: “That’s stupid,” said a little boy as he ran over to find the section of the floor where the train usually is empty. His mother gave the expected chiding “…honey, that’s not nice to say…” The truth is I agreed with him. Well, I would agree, except that my princess is here and of all the things I say on a daily basis, she would probably remember that one and add it to her ever-growing vocabulary. I am reminded once again of another point to add to my résumé…extremely resourceful. As such, 20 minutes into our bookstore trip, my 2-year old is still fascinated with the books I have chosen for her; and my 1-year old is still in awe of his stroller, a pen cap and his new-found freedom. This may have ended well, but it does not excuse the gross irresponsibility on the part of B&N Bookstores. Listen here B&N, next time the train is out for repairs, put a LARGE sign in the window so moms like me won’t even bother to stop, unload, and walk in to face an empty floor, a pathetic sign and a bunch of disappointed little faces! Thank you.

name calling

2009-01-27T22:15:00.005-05:00

Recipe: Chicken Enchiladas
What makes dark meat dark anyway? I would think the part of the animal that gets used the most – legs & thighs in the case of a chicken – would be the part with the lean meat, also known as white meat. But alas, this is not the case. Being the dork that I am my curiosity got the best of me and I had to look it up:

White meat has less oxygen-carrying myoglobin than the walking muscles, or dark meat, and is thus lighter in color. Dark meat tends to come from muscles more heavily exercised, which therefore also have more fat stored in them. This accounts for both dark meat's reputation as being unhealthier, and yet more flavorful.

Yeah, my thighs (although more heavily exercised) also have more fat stored in them. Go figure.
Despite the “reputation as being unhealthier” clause, I prefer dark over white, although I do have my days that if seasoned correctly or beaten enough into submission I do enjoy chicken breast.

All this started because I am prepping chicken to make some delicious chicken enchiladas. The recipe is from one of my favorite cooking blogs and any recipe from there has yet to disappoint. If you do go browsing, be sure to check out Elise’s “About” page about how she got started. I love a good family story like that, and even better yet, I love a good family meal involving some amazing enchiladas.

Buen provecho!

a renewed commitment?

2009-01-27T22:06:00.002-05:00

I should be apologizing for my absence, but believe me when I say it really would not come off as sincere. I have enjoyed my break which has allowed me to spend more time with the ones I love especially the characters who are often mentioned in this blog: Lou (my main man), my little princess and my little man. We have travelled to see, visited and been visited by various family members and it has been a sheer delight. One of our goals this year has been to do just that: spend more time on relationships with those in our lives. So I guess it’s really good that we are on target with that goal because the rest including our fitness goals have yet to be fully implemented. There is still hope though. It is only the 27th of January, and they say it takes 3 days to form a habit (ok, it’s really 30 but, who cares?). So like I said, 3 days to start a habit…that’s January 28th, 29th and 30th…see? All we have to do is get up off our tushes and before the end of the month we will be back on track and into a habit-forming routine. How’s your goal-keeping coming?

creating memories

2009-01-02T08:17:00.000-05:00

I love that Lou embraces all the fine print involved in embracing me: my extended family, my culture, our foods, our dialect, our people, our country. We are back from our vacation and more than 700 pictures later, I think it’s only fair to say we had a great time. I am sure an average of around 70 pictures a day is a neurotic amount for any vacation, but considering we did attend a wedding, reunite with friends and family, spend Christmas and vacation, I think it is acceptable. There are many things I could tell you about, or pictures I could inspire you with as to how beautiful Jamaica is, but I think their website would do a better job of that. I will share with you a few of the sights and moments that were special to us on this trip back to my homeland. A private cove on the North Coast

Early morning getaways with my little man… To see early morning vistas such as this, “Climbing” the falls my siblings and I would climb every summer with my own kids Jet skiing with my momma My man taking over the kitchen and cooking for my entire family Lou and my little princess walking a familiar street on Christmas morning My dad surrounded by nothing but nature...that is truly a Christmas miracle! I hope your holidays were memorable as well.

Happy New Year - 2009!

2009-01-01T12:28:00.006-05:00

I really thought it was going to drop. We went to watch the orange drop downtown, but apparently this is not New York so it doesn’t drop. There was a countdown, and we enjoyed our time regardless. Family, live music, revelers, fireworks, champagne, strawberries, chocolate and great weather are all a wonderful way to welcome the New Year.

I have been thinking recently that this is one of the first New Years in my entire life that I have been more apprehensive if not outright fearful. Our New Year’s experience last night was hopefully pretty telling in regards to how our year will be: while we didn’t know all we would be facing in taking the kids out or in being downtown with throngs of people, we were really pleasantly surprised. There are so many words I initially thought to describe my feelings towards my plans and world events in this New Year: anxiety, worry and a slight tinge of hope, but God has been so gracious in reminding me from his Word that he has an answer for each emotion I was facing:
Anxiety –Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. –Philippians 4:6

Worry – Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? –Matthew 6:25-27

Hope – Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. –Psalm 42:11

So I am choosing the mantra of hope, not because of the promises of a man, but because whatever comes, I will praise God and trust that He is in control.

A morning song

2008-12-19T21:30:00.002-05:00

This morning we awoke to the song of the same bird that awoke me as a little girl. "What's that mommy?" she asked, "It's a bird" I responded "A bird? What is it doing?" I was tickled that she noticed.

It's a bird with a song like none other and she told me it was not like our Birdee at home. We are in the land of my birth and we love it thus far. Lou is completely acclimated to the sights and sounds that surround us— remembering faces, names, homes and foods from our last visit. He is probably a little bit more acclimated than me since he climbed trees this morning to pick star fruit and grapefruit for his breakfast. It's been a while since I spent Christmas on this fair isle, and unlike Ella Fitzgerald, I will not be waiting for Santa to sail up in a canoe. I do expect a great time of reunion with friends and family. So, in case I don't get to say it again, Merry Christmas/Happy Hanukkah to you all, may your holiday season be meaningful, restful and joyous indeed.

11,371 days and counting

2008-12-16T11:07:00.001-05:00

When I first met him, one of the questions Lou would first ask me after a meal was “are you satisfied?” Being a lover of words and their usage, the question often left me pondering its meaning long after I had answered it. There are many times that I eat and am full to the point of discomfort. There are times when I eat and there is no real satisfaction in the taste of the food; and yet there are other times when I eat and my hunger remains. But oh, to be satisfied: to have eaten just the right amount, of the right thing, at the right time. This morning I read from Psalm 90: Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days. Yes, we can wake up in the morning, enjoy our coffee or tea, rush out the door, tackle the day and be happy, but are you satisfied? The Psalmist talks about our length of days being seventy years or eighty “if we have strength.” So naturally I had to ask myself, am I satisfied with the 11,371 days I have spent here on this earth? I don’t need to enlighten you with all that our own hands have created in this world—malice, anger, hatred, greed, murder and selfishness to name a few, but I wonder if we submitted to God’s will and not ours where would we be today? I long to be satisfied in this life – beyond the mundane; beyond the successes; beyond the hustle and bustle of the holidays; beyond the sorrows; and beyond the turmoil that surrounds us. If I do live to see seventy years, that means I have 14,179 days remaining to sing for joy, encourage others and wake-up in the light of his unfailing love. I will choose to be satisfied. Will you?

face painting

2008-12-15T13:45:00.005-05:00

My little princess decided she wanted to paint this morning. It was going well until I realized she wanted to paint on more than just the paper...

A lot more than just the paper…

copycat

2008-12-13T08:15:00.004-05:00

-“Mom”
She has been saying this with a smirk on her face, looking to see if it will bother me.

-“Mom, mom...”
She says with a sense of urgency, repeating it just the way she has heard other kids say it.

-“Yes, honey” I respond.

-She grins.

I can’t take it any more and I respond with a slight agitation:
-“It’s mommy, not mom…for now I am still mommy”

Okay, so I am being super-picky here, but really…I want to be mommy at least for a bit longer.

What do your kids call you?

Christmas…West German style

2008-12-11T21:48:00.008-05:00

It is amazing how music has the power to take you back to a time and place. My dear sister studied music – piano, voice and guitar, and she has often lamented that we did not grow up listening to a wider array of music. I tend to disagree but our discussion about this topic led me to think about the type of music we did listen to growing up. There was one record that I remember that we would listen to at Christmas time. Along with our Andy Williams album, it served as Christmas music in our home. I could never remember the name of it and all I was able to remember of the cover was that the artists were dressed in white and it had a winter theme. So, today I am listening to XM Radio and they are playing a song that I KNOW is on that album. Holy cow! It’s been…a lot…of years! So I google the artist listed on the XM info: Boney M.

We listened to a “West Germany-based pop and disco group” for Christmas...in Jamaica! How’s that for a wide array of music!

Oh, and the album cover? My memory wasn’t that far off…

The song is called Mary's Boy Child/Oh My Lord. I might just have to buy it just for the pure nostalgia of it all, but in the mean time I need to find out from my parents if they really knew what they were listening to…and why!

Going green

2008-12-11T14:54:00.002-05:00

I love trees. I don’t necessarily hug them, but I love to be surrounded by them. I love the sounds their leaves make when they blow in the wind. I love to note their various shapes and sizes, colors and textures. I loved to climb trees as a child; reaching out to pick all sorts of fruits straight from the branches – pears, mangos, cherries, oranges and apples. The wind would blow and we would sway with the branches, swinging, climbing and hanging from them as so many children did in that time and place. As an adult, my love for being surrounded by trees has not waivered. Lou and I plant just about every seed from whatever fruit or vegetable we eat. Besides the long-term financial gain, we love the process of watching the first little sprout. We love the delight of savoring our own produce (although apart from cilantro and basil, we are still awaiting our first produce from one of our trees). In the meantime, we have had the privilege of sharing with our neighbor who has supplied us with everything from pineapples, mangos and bananas to sweet potatoes, yuca, ackee and callalloo. We don’t drive hybrid cars, but we do recycle and we try to do our part in consuming and discarding less. I have heard of and seen the damage that we as humans have caused on our environment, but I have never understood the hype that gets us all into hysteria and then suddenly disappears. Today I saw an article saying that more than 650 international scientists are skeptical about previous claims regarding the man-made global warming effect. That’s 12 times the amount of scientist who previously supported the man-made global warming theory. So what now? Is this the latest hoax? While it doesn’t mean I am going to be thrilled when I see trees get bulldozed for another cookie-cutter Walgreens to go up, it does make me wonder about the power of ideas and media and just how much we hear and accept without looking into it for ourselves. So where does this all leave us in the grand scheme of things? In some ways I think that instead of being swallowed up by all the hype we just need to remember the little saying: “everything in moderation.” I always wonder how God feels about all this, he made it all, so what does he think when we trash it? It’s amazing to me to see his original intent: “The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it.” – Genesis 2:15 This world may be a far cry from what the Garden of Eden was like, and we seem to be really good at working it, now if we would just learn to take care of it. Everything in moderation…

'til death do us part

2008-12-10T21:41:00.006-05:00

40 years is a long time any way you look at it. This past week we witnessed a celebration of 40 years that has involved respect, sacrifice, joy, pain and above all an unending love. We attended a 40 year renewal of marriage vows for a couple that we have grown to respect and admire. For the ten years or more that I have known them their relationship has been an example of love and commitment that puts many others to shame. They are not the first couple to celebrate 40 years, but they are one of the first I have seen to do it, not because of mere companionship nor because they achieved a number many others hope to reach, but because of a love that is so evident that even on a first introduction it is impossible to miss. We watched as they gazed in to each others eyes, danced and kissed as if they were doing it all for the first time ever. We cheered and laughed and thought of each other. Will we be like that thirty four years from now? Will he say in his acceptance speech, -“I have been waiting 40 years to say this again…on behalf of my wife and I…” Will I say, -He still makes me smile when I see him from across the room? Yes, 40 years may seem like a long time, but that night we were enlightened, our flame was fanned and we were encouraged. Forty years can come and go but let’s make it forty years of love, respect and friendship. Lou, thirty four years from now may we still look at each other and lovingly chose to say: ‘til death do us part.

The eyes of the beholder

2008-12-04T16:47:00.008-05:00

We have always known that when it comes to raising kids we would be in for a fight against some of the forces and influences in this world. We just never thought the fight would begin this early in their little lives. Lou and I were reading an article about girls growing up too fast and how even 7-year olds are now asking for bras based on what they see on television or based on what their friends tell them. The scary thing is…they exist! Little girl bras with matching undies… I’ve noticed more than once that when we are in the check-out line of a store, my little princess will stare…and I mean stare…mouth open, no blinking, eyes fixed…on the covers of magazines as I unload my purchases. For me, as a woman it’s hard enough to turn away from the images and headlines of how we should look, what we should do in bed, or for that matter what all of Hollywood is doing in theirs. I think it was late in college when I finally accepted that I did not need to look like those women… and it was probably also around that time that I discovered the wonders of Photoshop. I finally realized, those women don’t even look like the final images plastered all over these magazines, and ultimately into our own minds. I now take delight in finding out their bad editing jobs…you know the boob that really would not connect to a chest like that, or the thigh line that does not line up exactly right with the bikini. My sister and I take pleasure in finding and making fun of their faux pas. But what of my little one? Someone recently told me that our parents’ generation was probably the last generation to not have mass media telling them what is beautiful and what they should be like…simply because it was not around. Since I grew up in Jamaica and the culture was not quite as American there as it is now…I didn’t have to stare at commercials telling me what Barbie to want; or what beautiful women should look like, but my little one does… and she is mesmerized at two years old! Maybe I am over-reacting. Maybe she will be a fashion or magazine editor some day; maybe she just has good taste and just likes the made-up glitz and glamour of it all. Or maybe she is falling victim to what we have all had to stomach for most of our lives. It would be paranoid of me to avoid the check-out lines with magazines (the other ones usually have candy), but for the sake of giving her a chance apart from all the madness, I might have to consider it.

Old Skool

2008-12-03T13:16:00.003-05:00

Today is one of those days with a slight chill in the air. It calls for nothing else than my comfy old sweatshirt from freshman year of high school. I know I am not the only one out there with something old, tattered and torn that you cannot let go of. I’m curious. What’s yours?

the mark of a mom

2008-12-01T21:23:00.004-05:00

There are days when I gladly embrace my thirties. On such days I am usually without kids, on my way to a meeting regarding work, or on an outing with friends. On such days there is an extra skip in my step; an extra inch or two on my heels and my chin is tilted a little bit higher. On such days I laugh out louder, walk faster and I feel like Jennifer Garner in 13 Going on 30: thirty, flirty and thriving! I’ve noticed a trend though, and it has left me a bit paranoid. Last week, on one such day I returned home to find the imprint of my little princess’ face on the seat of my pants…dinner and all! I guess that was when she hugged me goodbye. The trend is that I am finding dried up somethings in different places on my clothes from goodbyes, kisses and last touches…I am feeling like I am going to have to start dressing after I leave the house in order to avoid the marks that say: “I am mom” or “I am sloppy” …whichever people choose to think. Furthermore it really makes me think of my friends…people who see me with dried baby food on my shoulder and say nothing at all…thanks a lot!

my little helper

2008-12-01T21:01:00.003-05:00

They say kids say the darndest things. Lately my princess has been offering help for everything from changing her brother’s diaper to walking her father’s briefcase to the car. ‘I’ll help you’ has become a favorite saying of hers. We went to a Christmas Pageant last night which left her absolutely mesmerized. She loved the lights, the dancing santas, Christmas trees, singing children, and animals galore. In the second half of the show they re-enacted the death and resurrection of Jesus. When they reached the part about nailing Jesus to the cross, Lou tried to distract her and not let her see what was going on. She quickly dodged his hand as it headed towards her face and shouted: “I’ll help you!”

another temple stampede

2008-11-28T20:59:00.008-05:00

Just let me clarify, my Black Friday experience was nothing like this: What is wrong with us? When I saw the headline I honestly thought -why did they let one of the old Walmart veteran guys open the doors? poor guy... but then I saw that it was a 34-year old man! They just trampled him! and walked around the scene to get in and out of the store with their merchandise. When we read about stuff like that happening in India or other developing nations, we think it is so backwards, so what does it say when it is happening in our own backyards?

join the revolution

2008-11-28T19:24:00.008-05:00

Am I a Black Friday shopper if I have gone out to the stores before 6am two years in a row? I don’t wait for it all year thinking TGI Black Friday or anything like that, but I was looking forward to getting a few items on my list that I saw on sale. This morning was like a dream really, I slipped out of the house just after 5 and forgot to put my glasses or contacts on – I’m not legally blind, but let’s just say I’m glad I was not pulled over by a cop somewhere along the way. The toy store was ridiculous…more because of the conversations I overheard than for the half an hour wait in line to pay: - My boy wants this... - Oh my gosh, that’s the last one?! - Oh look at this…so cute…I’m going to get this one too… I felt silly standing in line with no shopping cart holding the three items we had decided on for the kids. They were within our budget, and I don’t think the kids are going to suffer because they were not on any major ‘Top 10’ lists. I had to chuckle at the irony that just yesterday we were giving thanks and less than 24 hours later we were re-entering the rat race as to what we can “get”.

A friend of mine sent me a link to a great movement called the gift revolution. It’s a global movement to inspire the world through acts of giving. Check it out and let’s see if we can change our attitude towards gift-giving this year. I pulled up into the driveway just after 7 this morning, my chai tea latte thanks to *bucks had calmed me down and the beautiful sunrise and cool breeze caused me to pause and give thanks to God on this day-after-Thanksgiving for another day of life, health, love and family.

2008-11-18T18:14:00.003-05:00

Apparently I am not the only one who has one of these:

I don’t get how they know exactly what is going on in our home from week to week! If you’re a parent and you’ve never looked at it, be sure to check out Babycenter.

Jamerican

2008-11-13T21:52:00.010-05:00

There are days I feel more “Jam” than “Merican”. On such days I feed my children porridge for breakfast. I listen to reggae or speak patois with my mother, a friend or on Facebook (where no one can hear me). Most days however I am “-Merican”. I have yet to call my child pickney. I feed her peanut butter sandwiches and I have come to the realization that my iPod does not have any dancehall songs on it. The mix is not because I was born in America to Jamaican parents but because I left my homeland years ago and am now accepting the fact that my years in this land now out number my years in that one. Today, I am one of millions of people living in the United States, residing under its flag with memories of childhoods: scabbed knees, Sunday school dresses, birthday parties and long school days, spent in another land. A land remembered fondly for its people, sights, foods and smells. I am one of millions who value the future of our current nation because of our children and the memories they will create here; memories that in many ways will be foreign to me. Regardless, I will teach them from my memories of another time and place: memories of our culture, our dialects, our foods, and our music. In the end, they will forge their own. They may choose to identify themselves as Tiger Woods does by some ridiculously long cultural definition like: ColJamTriMerican or they may just choose the obvious title of American. Still we live, learn and grow, knowing that from this wonderful mêlée of memories, languages and cultures, we are just one of the many blends that make up this great nation in which we live.

Dear Mr. President

2008-11-08T19:29:00.002-05:00

Lou told me he saw a video of a press conference today where President Bush got emotional. Lou continued to say that what was so incredulous about the whole thing were the comments made at the end of the video. People can be so cruel and they really have a short memory. I would be lying to say the past eight years have been all good but I know for me, as with many others living in this country, we have many things to be grateful for. And since we are assigning all the bad to President Bush, then I think it’s only fair to assign some of the good as well. I have decided to write him: Dear Mr. President, I know you have heard much about the bad, but today I am writing to let you know the good that I have experienced during your eight years in office: During your eight years in office, I began my career, after graduating from college, as an architect. During your eight years in office, I watched in shock as two planes slammed into the sides of the Twin Towers; buildings whose shadows I had walked under the week before. I watched you comfort our nation and build our resolve with words, tears, and hugs of affirmation. We looked to you and gave you the highest approval rating ever held by a US President. During your eight years in office I saw for the first time with my own eyes a nation go to war. My future husband had served in the armed forces, and identified with his brothers and sisters who would go into harm’s way with tears and anger . Despite knowing what these brave men and women would face, he (sometimes more than me) defended the decisions our government (including our bi-partisan Congress and Senate) made regarding an unpopular war on the other side of the world. During your eight years in office, I met and married my husband of 6 years. We bought our first home. I bought my first new car. We, like many other Americans, basked in the fact that times were good. Many bought new and bigger homes, bigger cars and more expensive clothes, food and luxuries. Our demand for imported foods and delicacies grew and even though we were not millionaires, we accepted all the good as our right, and a fulfillment of the American dream. The Dow Jones industrial average hit its highest high ever, and we on Main Street, like those on Wall Street enjoyed life lavishly. During your eight years in office (at least in our state), my husband and I were still considered a “bride” and “groom” on our marriage license and not “Party A” and “Party B” as some have had to settle for. As a woman of color, I saw during your eight years in office, a well-qualified and extremely accomplished African American man and woman reach the highest levels ever in the executive branch of office. I saw that you regarded their opinion, and that you respected them as equals. During your eight years in office I became a citizen of this country and I exercised my right and voted for the first time as an American. During your eight years in office we had our two children: first a girl and almost two years later a boy; children born during a time of war, but children born free into a nation that was still regarded as the most powerful nation in this world. During your eight years in office millions of babies died decently because their brains were not sucked out as their heads came out of their mother’s birth canal in the horrible practice known as Partial-Birth abortion. Furthermore, late term babies that had been born alive and left to die in hospitals and abortion centers across the country were finally given the decency of medical treatment because you agreed to sign the Born Alive Act. I am grateful for your commitment to what you yourself called a “culture of life” in this country. Mr. President, during your eight years in office there were many disappointments along the way. Most if not all of which I know you have heard from various sources. I have stated some of the good and regardless of the challenges we now face as a nation, I would like to thank you for your hand in the good of the last eight years. May God bless you and may God continue to bless America.

read all about it!

2008-11-07T16:49:00.024-05:00

I am about to start reading the story of the life of Billy Graham as a young man. The book is called Billy, and it is in my possession now because I decided to become a Thomas Nelson Book Review Blogger. Of the list of books they had, I decided I would start with a biography. With that decision I was left with two choices: Lynne Spears’ Through the Storm or William Paul McKay’s Billy.

In case you didn’t recognize the name, Lynne Spears is Britney’s mom…that ended that.
Call me judgmental, but for my first book I really didn’t want an inside view into the heart of Britney Spears’ life…Its bad enough that I am giving her blog time right now!

Anyway, the idea behind reading and reviewing books is to force me to:
1. Read more and
2. Write more.
For the past few years Lou and I have been setting goals we wanted to accomplish throughout the year. One of my goals again this year was to read a book a month.
So far for this year I have read, touched or flipped through:

The Year of Fog
Waiting for Daisy
123 Magic
Love in the Time of Cholera
Writing Motherhood
bird by bird
A Thirty-Day Walk with God in the Psalms
Living Beyond Yourself and
His Princess
First Things First
If cookbooks count then I would have to add:
All About Breakfast & Brunch
Fix It Quick Cooking for Kids
Lunch Boxes and Snacks

Cookbooks are probably a stretch, but if children’s books count, then I am way ahead of the game! I read more than twelve of those per week!
With that said, infer what you may regarding my goal-keeping abilities, but hopefully this new commitment will keep me a bit more on track.

In a few weeks, maybe even days...I will post a review.

In the meantime, I am thinking of my book list for next year; any suggestions?

Two and loving it

2008-11-02T07:34:00.009-05:00

Walking hand in hand from the parking lot she looked up and declared, -Look mommy, ‘B’ And she was right! The big, bold letters Bed Bath and Beyond loomed overhead. I don’t remember this moment of my childhood, but I am enjoying hers. I was so proud of my little two-year old, but me being me, I wanted more: -What’s this one baby girl? -E -and this one? -aahhmm… Oh well, I was as proud as the peacock that once roamed our backyard. She is realizing that letters are all around us! Two is a wonderful age, difficult but wonderful. There are meltdowns, tantrums and opinions but at the same time there are conversations, emotions, and yes, opinions. This week I went in her room to find her taking a fancy dress down from her closet. -“What are you doing honey?” She did not respond but instead instructed me to give her her fancy shoes and to do her hair…I played along. She declared herself a princess. -“Very well then” I thought, and “this is without the influence of Disney!” (She has yet to be introduced to the perfectly coifed Cinderella, Snow White or Jasmine). But wait, she wasn’t finished yet. -“Come on mommy, come on” She led me to my closet. -“Hmmm, let’s see. This one mommy…beautiful.” After helping me to put on her selected dress and shoes, she decided we were done. I decided we would take some pictures. Oh the joy that 2 brings.

worth the wait!

2008-10-29T16:20:00.007-04:00

It took a while for her to get used to the idea of people standing, facing the same direction, not really talking, but just waiting…for no apparent reason. It’s called a line my dear child, and it looks like we are going to be in this one for a while. My morning felt like my own version of the voting commercial I have so often seen on TV: feed the kids, dress them for the 60 degree weather outside, pack up, drive out, get lost on the way, and eventually make it to the early voting station to join a line with hundreds. A man walks around offering bottled water. If you accept he tells you it is courtesy of Senator Barack Obama. I decide that if this Senator can provide me with a bottle of water in my greatest time of need without me offering so much as a prayer to receive it, then he must be the one, or maybe not. The waiting continues. There are conversations on cell phones, and many people to watch…big people, little people, fat people, skinny people, workers, slackers, old couples holding hands…and that one guy, the one talking loud enough for the whole line to hear his stories. There is always one of those. People laugh and the stories keep coming. He has stories about his cousin, his friend’s step-mother-in-law, his free golfing trips, his famous friends…and I think to myself, you would think we were in a lunch line in grade school the way this guy was telling stories. Birds chirp, the morning sun glows and I am grateful for the cool breezes. I bar from my mind the thought that it could be 80 degrees right now. I am grateful to be in a sweater, I am grateful that the baby is happily chewing on my cell phone and I am grateful that although my 2-year old is covered in grass, and bits of leaves from rolling around, running through bushes and burrowing in mulch, there is peace.

Two hours pass and I am ready to do the deed. It is not like the last time, although this time it is my “so cute” kids and not my husband who makes the whole room look my way. After all is said and done, I vote and we all get our stickers. They are not Dora stickers, but my 2-year old decides they will suffice. See? So even if you can come up with a better excuse or challenge than mine not to vote, that is no excuse…now get up and go vote!

Say what?

2008-10-24T12:40:00.002-04:00

I hate being a statistic. No matter what the area, I just do not like to be associated with the masses. Furthermore, I am not a big fan of mass forward emails, but I got one from my sister recently and I had to laugh. I do every one of these things. Now ladies, I am not about to put us all into one lump sum, but I need to know, do you say these things too? Guys, please take note. NINE WORDS WOMEN USE (1) Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up. (2) Five Minutes: If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house. (3) Nothing: This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in fine. (4) Go Ahead: This is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It! (5) Loud Sigh: This is actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to # 3 for the meaning of nothing.) (6) That's Okay: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That's okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake. (7) Thanks: A woman is thanking you, do not question, or faint. Just say you're welcome. (I want to add in a clause here - This is true, unless she says 'Thanks a lot' - that is PURE sarcasm and she is not thanking you at all. DO NOT say 'you're welcome' that will bring on a 'whatever'). (8) Whatever: Is a woman's way of saying Forget YOU! (9) Don't worry about it, I got it: Another dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking 'What's wrong?' For the woman's response refer to #3. * Send this to the men you know, to warn them about arguments they can avoid if they remember the terminology. * Send this to all the women you know to give them a good laugh, cause they know it's true!!!

no fear…just peace.

2008-10-22T23:23:00.007-04:00

My heart is so heavy for various friends who have recently lost their jobs. Oh how I wish there was a spell I could cast; a potion I could mix; a prayer I could offer that would make all this disappear. But I can’t. What I can offer is the same thing I claim as my own in these times of deep despair: my relationship with Jesus Christ. I imagine for some the outlook of this post already has you thinking of moving on. For others, your curiosity has you still reading. I have no ‘one answer fixes all’ solution, but I do know that in my life, this relationship has been the source of strength and encouragement that helps me get through the good, the bad and the ugly. Just this week I have been reading about the Peace of God in our lives. Who knew it would be such a timely thought… Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge. -Psalm 62:8 I have been doing a study of Beth Moore’s book, Living Beyond Yourself with some wonderful ladies at our church. One of the concepts she shared this week that I am still trying to grasp is this: “Peace means the absence of fear and turmoil, not the absence of pain and grief.” I know we are all seemingly in the midst of pain and grief, but even in these times, our trust in God can lead us to a true sense of peace. Another friend sent me an email today with a list of items in her life for which she is grateful. Despite our circumstances, there are things we are blessed to have and blessed to have enjoyed. Here is my top five: 1. My family – both those living, and those who have already died, have made an indelible impression on my life. I am thankful for my husband, my children and for all the other loveable characters worldwide that make up our family. 2. My experiences – from growing up in the Caribbean to travelling around the world; from swim meets to sleepovers; from college all-nighters to first-day-at-work anxieties; from marriage to motherhood – I am grateful for the experiences that have made up my life. 3. My friends – in various places, times and seasons. They have been a source of encouragement, fun, laughter, and sometimes grief, all helping to make me who I am today. 4. I am grateful that after 36 years, my parents are still happily married. I trust that in 30 years; my children will be able to say the same of Lou and me. 5. Last but not least, I am grateful that no matter what I lose in these days of uncertain times, I know that God is in control! What about you? Despite your circumstances, what things are you grateful for?

30 something

2008-10-21T22:42:00.004-04:00

“30’s the new 20” A friend recently reminded me of this quote by the great modern-day American philosopher, Jay-Z. I am embracing my age and stage as a woman now 30+1. I am no longer on the line, but now fully immersed in the decade that is the 30’s. So I claimed it by going out and treating myself to a pair of shoes! BAM! (please ignore the dust under my couch…we are looking at the shoes here). As a mom to young children, birthdays are so different: a pair of shoes made my day for starters! The demands of the daily grind are the same, but the joys and the things I do appreciate have changed. My little princess is beginning to understand the concept of a birthday. I was more than happy that she was armed and ready to sing the Birthday Song to me today along with Lou. Before they finished the song she blew out my candles! The nerve! That was certainly a birthday first! There is so much to be grateful for: my best friend and partner, Lou; my healthy and beautiful children; supportive family and friends; a supportive church family; health, life, and I haven’t even got into the material stuff that I am blessed to have when there are so many others without. There are days when I want to click my heels like Dorothy and wish I was in another time and place. But on most days, like today, I can truly say “there’s no place like home”.

tsk-tsk

2008-10-20T23:00:00.009-04:00

She has put various things on in or around her mouth… Markers.

Lipstick. Today we were at my parent’s house. I walked into my brother’s room where she was taking a nap and found chocolate crumbs all over her mouth and face. -Where did she get chocolate? I thought. There was nothing around that gave me any clues. So I asked her, -What’s on your mouth? No answer. I called my brother to explain and apologize that she was taking a nap in his room and somehow ate something there, except that I had no idea what it was. He then told me he threw out an unopened mini pack of Oreos in his trash can last night. -Oreos? …that makes perfect sense. Sure enough I went back into the room and there on the top of the trash can was the now empty pack of Oreo cookies. -Tsk-tsk. On our way home I guess it finally was bothering her and she confessed: -Mommy, Uncle Warren cookie. Is it telling the truth if she answers me half an hour later?

pumpkins and sunglasses

2008-10-18T23:45:00.007-04:00

Our day began in a pumpkin patch. Not really to buy a pumpkin but just to take pictures and enjoy the fallesque outdoors. It was great! The kids loved it and while my eldest avoided looking at the camera at all costs, we were able to get a few good shots…that is after threatening her that we would not go to the pool afterwards if she did not look at the camera AND smile. (I cannot believe we have succumbed to bribing a 2-year old over such technicalities…ah well.) Anyway, we were all looking forward to the pool. I did some laps, Lou dove from the diving board, prince charming splashed around and my dear princess proved to us yet again that she has no fear of the water. She continues to prefer jumping into the water away from our open arms, promising us that she can do it! (What spirit!) I put my goggles on and dove into the water to do a couple of laps, when I came up she stared at me in amazement, jumped out of the water and ran over to our stuff in search of something. -“What’s wrong honey?” I asked. -“Dora Mommy” she replied Lou and I laughed. That would be her Dora sunglasses (or goggles in her eyes). -“No honey, that’s okay. I’ll lend you mine.” So with goggles in place she proceeded to push my arms away saying “no mommy” as she tried to mimic my kicking and swimming strokes. -“Someday baby” I thought. But for now let’s do it together. Trust me, one day I will let go, but right now, you need me, right here.

desagradecida

2008-10-17T12:41:00.004-04:00

Desagradecida is the word that immediately came to mind.
The days have been mild and the evenings delightful. Fall down here is not that bad. The moon has been full and the cool breezes beckon us outside for evening strolls.
Desagradecida means ungrateful in Spanish. Not to be dramatic or anything, but that is the first thing that came to mind as we headed outside for a walk yesterday. I have been craving northern falls and missing out on the delightful weather our version of fall has brought. My sleeves are not long, but three-quarters will suffice. There are no orange or deep red leaves on the ground, but the glow of the setting sun on our skin while cool breezes blow give the same feeling of warmth and love that a chat by the fire would bring.

My little one has been chanting “Mommy, cake!” to me all day. I think we might actually have to take out some pumpkin, sugar and spice and see what adventures await us in the kitchen.

Pies, cookies, bars, cakes…what goodies make this time of year “just right” for you?

craving fall

2008-10-13T13:28:00.008-04:00

I can't help it.
I am falling into my yearly ritual of longing for fall.
Not that the temperature hasn't eased up by about ten degrees from the summer months, but I have yet to pull out a sweater or a scarf; and I always find that neighborhood halloween decorations look so silly sitting on green grass instead of on a bed of leaves.
My cravings for apple pie and all things pumpkin just don't seem justified when there is no pile of leaves of all colors for my kiddies to dive into…and so there have been no pumpkin bars or apple pie or homemade cider in our household thus far.
We did get out for a while yesterday, and while pine needles are a far cry from a bed of leaves, my prince charming didn’t seem to mind.

I told Lou, next year I would like to visit a bit of fall...where leaves are actually falling and changing to delightful colors and where the slight chill in the air makes a cup of cider taste that much better...at least for a weekend.
We'll see.
Are the leaves falling in your neck of the woods?

career driven

2008-10-09T11:26:00.008-04:00

One of the sounds I remember from my childhood is the squeaky sound of our housekeeper doing the laundry. Now before you raise your eyebrow and box me into some elitist category, let me explain. I grew up in Jamaica and there it is very normal to have what we call a ‘helper’ who comes to your house daily during the week to do whatever – clean, iron, wash, babysit, cook, etc. Now that I really think about it, it does sound somewhat like a luxurious life since my mom was a stay-at-home mom at the same time. But believe me it sounds a lot more glamorous than it really is.

Anyway, my point was the squeaky sound of her pre-washing our clothes. I remember leaning over the laundry room sink with her and asking her how she made the clothes make that sound. She explained it, and I have been emulating her instructions ever since. For some reason the sound of the squeaking made the clothes sound ‘squeaky clean’ to me.

This morning I came to a point of true appreciation for what our helper, Paulette did for us for close to ten years before we left for the US. This morning I stood again over our laundry sink pre-washing stained t-shirts, shorts and other articles of clothing belonging to my dear children. Gone are the days of tossing clothes in the washing machine without pre-washing or scrubbing. Dried up food does not disappear by using a washing machine. Believe me, I’ve tried that. As my own hands made the squeaky sound of fabric between soap and water, I recounted each meal over the past few days…
-Oh, yeah…we had rice.
-Wow, look at that, we did have oatmeal for breakfast the other day.
-What was I thinking serving pasta with a tomato-based sauce!

Now before you suggest that I dress my children in bibs while they eat, I must let you know that they DO where bibs. Their bibs are just as covered in food! And the food makes its way under, around; above and below the bibs…they serve no purpose!
A friend of mine recently told me she strips her children before they eat – diapers only. I tried to try that once, Soraya looked at me and said,
-No, mommy. My shirt!
That was the end of that. I would much rather pre-wash clothes than voluntarily enter a fight with my 2-year old princess.

Ah well, it is just one more title to add to my résumé.

Nothing but love

2008-10-07T17:27:00.004-04:00

There was a moment today. It came as quickly as it went. Soraya was pouring the leftovers of her yogurt all over the table and swirling it with water from her cup; Nicolas was unbuckled but sitting calmly and playing with the buckle on his highchair; and I was cleaning up the kitchen when I stop and noticed… There was silence. Despite the permissible chaos that was taking place, There was silence and it truly was golden. And then the bird tweeted. As if she was reading my mind. Have I told you about the love/hate relationship I have with this bird? She's a cockateel. We have had her since she was 4 months old. We got her for Lou's birthday 4 years ago. I have fed this bird, cleaned her cage, clipped her wings, changed her water, and all she has done towards me is hissed at me. She sits on Lou's shoulder, she eats from his hand, she nibbles on his ear, she drinks from his coffee cup and has eaten waffles from his own plate! Before we had kids, this bird has always been the "other" woman in this house. Her name is Birdee, and she does nothing for me but deposit feathers throughout our family room. I clean up and the process repeats itself. We have a love/hate relationship. I love to hate this bird. She is the one that has now broken my moment of silence, snapped the kids out of their trance and resumed the noise of our home yet again. Nothing but love for ya Birdee, nothing but love…

Say cheese!

2008-10-05T00:54:00.007-04:00

Soraya discovered the camera. And how to use it. Here are her firsts.

She finally gave up the camera so that I could take one of her. Think you can “say cheese” with more heart than this?

OMG!

2008-10-02T12:16:00.007-04:00

I know they say kids say the darndest things, but it has really been hitting me this past month just how darned those things can get. Soraya is in the habit of saying ‘Oh my goosh!’ whenever something bad (in her eyes) happens. Not that that is horrible, but I really don’t like the way it sounds coming from a 2-year old, worse yet my 2-year old. I know there have been worse things said by many a child and it is not always the fault of the parent. Being the fixer that I am I had to find out where she learned that phrase? I questioned Lou on the shows he watched in front of her; I questioned my sister as to whether or not she uses that phrase; and I did a mental recount of all the little shows she watches. Surely they don’t say ‘Oh my gosh’ on Dora! I was explaining to my friend the dire situation that I was in and there it was…I said it…'Oh my gosh' with the same intonation and everything that my little one had picked up. I could not believe it, all along it was me! Yes, yes worse things have come out of the mouth of a parent as well…what can I say? I am a work in progress. It reminded me of a train ride I took in Europe many years ago. I was sitting in a car with two parents and their adorable 2-year old. We were smiling at each other, and she saw she had my attention and so she began to sing “I’m horny, horny, horny!” (that song was probably a bigger hit in Europe than in the US), anyway the point is that we were all horrified! And she was delighted by it all. I won’t tell you what I thought of those parents in that moment, but now that I have my own and I am realizing that kids love to show up their parents at the most awkward moments, I am a lot less judgmental about the whole thing. It’s not all bad though. Nicolas sneezed yesterday and Soraya declared triumphantly “Yes, you!” (i.e.-bless you!) I don’t really say that either. Call it a cultural thing, but I didn’t grow up saying that. Wherever she got it from it was nice gesture. What a journey to watch and hear their little vocabularies developing! What about you, have you heard any interesting toddler words or phrases lately?

friend in need

2008-09-27T11:13:00.017-04:00

A friend of ours stopped by yesterday evening; she was so starved for some good friends and conversation. She has been teaching in a school where she literally feels like Michelle Pfeiffer in the movie Dangerous Minds. She definitely sees it as her mission field to try and make a difference in the lives of these kids, but with waking up before 5:00am to make it out to the school, and being up beyond 11:00pm to complete grading and curriculums, she is exhausted! We listened as she talked and cried and we realized almost at the same moment that we had nothing to offer her but our friendship and our love. We prayed together for her and the kids and as we continued to talk she told us she is sometimes even too tired to read her Bible. (I know that is something we can sometimes all relate to). We told her about an audio Bible that we had heard about and I figured I would share it with you. It’s called the Bible Experience.

She was encouraged as we laughed, talked, ate. This visit was just what she needed she told us. And we were so blessed to be able to spend and share our time with her. It was a miracle I told her…because no other Friday is usually like this: Lou stayed home because he is now sick, although the kids are recovering. He cooked dinner! It was ready by 4:00pm. We were literally sitting in the family room thinking ‘now what?' And the door bell rang. We were encouraged by the visit as well. We went for a walk afterwards, and God continued to remind us that He is in control of all things! We came face to face with the truth that He has revealed Himself to us, not only through His Word but also through the works of His hands. Here are some pics to prove it:

“The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.” –Psalm 19:1

Have a comment?...Leave it!

2008-09-27T10:26:00.008-04:00

I have heard from more than one person that they want to leave comments but they don't want to "sign up" in order to do so. For that reason, I am going to give a little tutorial on how to leave a comment without having a blogger account. 1. When you click on "comments" the following should come up. 2. Write your comment.

3. Enter word verification.

4. Click on Name/URL. Enter your name and if you have a website or blog enter the URL. If you do not have one, leave it blank and hit "Publish your Comment". That's it!

Your comments are always welcome, so hopefully this will help make that process less painful.

-Ace

Heaven bound?

2008-09-24T11:25:00.005-04:00

I distinctly remember having this conversation with my mom on various occasions as a child:

Mother sings: How long Lord Jesus? How long?
Child: How long for what mummy?
Mother: How long until He comes and we go to heaven.
Child: Mummy, why do you want to go to heaven now?
Mother: Some times things in this world are so bad that you wish the wait for heaven did not have to be so long.
Child: How long do we have to be in heaven Mummy?
Mother: Forever honey, we get to be with Jesus forever.
Child: What do we do there? Do they have TV in heaven?
Mother: No honey
Child thinks…forever and no TV?

I’ve been imagining myself having a similar conversation with Soraya some day. Her vocabulary and understanding is ever-expanding and it amazes me. With things the way they are worldwide there are just those days where I find myself on the verge of saying how long Lord Jesus, how long?
In the meantime, He continues to be faithful to us in the here and now.

Nicolas was diagnosed with bronchitis. His cough is horrible but the medication seems to be helping and he is getting better with each passing day. His sister in the mean time is becoming increasingly smart. Yesterday she approached me and gave me a big hug and said:
-I’m sorry mommy
(now you must know that this child hates to say sorry…so I was already on high alert)
-sorry for what honey?
-I’m sorry mommy…
-oookkkaayyy, sorry for what?
-Little Bill mommy?
-What?
-TV mommy…Little Bill.

This girl would not be able to survive in heaven. Not only was she asking to see her favorite show (Dora has been dethroned), but she was trying to sweeten me up with an apology for nothing!

How long Lord Jesus, how long?

Friday???!!!

2008-09-22T16:25:00.002-04:00

So this morning I logged into Facebook with the brilliant idea that I was going to declare that I would handle whatever Monday decided to dish out at me. After all, we always long for Friday, so why not Monday? I did think twice about the idea but then I thought I don't believe in jinxing myself or any of that nonsense. Well, this Monday turned out to be one of the hardest brought my way in a looong time. It all started with breakfast, the hubby out the door, the kids watching cartoons, and mommy updating her resume. (Don’t ask…that’s another blog for another time). Where was I? Oh, yes. I was supposed to call the pediatrician about the baby’s cough. -Hello? Yes, a really bad cough. For about a week now. -Today? Noon? -that’s perfect. Thank you. And we’re off. We actually made it to the doctor for noon. (way to go Mom!) We actually saw the doctor within the hour (way to go Doc!) and then the bombshell. -We need you to get a chest x-ray. -Today? -yes, just go to the hospital ER next door and give them this? Reeaaalllyyy. (that was thought not said) Did I forget to tell you I left my cell phone at home? And I also forget to tell you that wherever I go I have a two-year old in tow! The same two year old who was using all her niceties possible to tell me that she wanted to go home ten minutes after we arrived at the doctor’s office? -Yes honey, we’re going to go now. Just one more quick stop. So we get there, and we’re waiting…and the princess is hungry… -Yaya hungry mommy…eat…hambre -Okay honey, mommy’s going to get you something to eat right here… WHAT?? There scribbled not-so-neatly, the sign that was my downfall: CREDIT CARD MACHINE NOT WORKING. SORRY. :-) Smiley faces can be annoying sometimes. For those of you who do not know me personally, I almost NEVER have cash on me. Joy! You know my mind immediately went to that stupid Facebook status… I asked for this! I really did. Thankfully I stole a lollipop from the pediatrician for me. She had finished hers in the car and mommy was able to magically pull another one out of her pocket! That lasted for all of ten minutes! To make a long story short, we reached home at 3:30 this afternoon. The kids were both such troopers. Soraya was eventually able to have chicken nuggets, milk and yogurt which I think allowed her to forgive me for my terrible parenting skills. We are still awaiting the x-ray results. The moral of the story? I’m not really sure. I did survive Monday (so far) although I feel like Wile E. Coyote under a pile of rubble with my hand holding up a little white flag. Friday…where are you?!!!

Family Movie Night

2008-09-21T11:00:00.000-04:00

Last night at church we had a Family Movie Night. They showed The Perfect Game. It is not out in theaters yet, but look for it! It was such a cute story...and I'm not even a big baseball fan!

the doctor will see you now

2008-09-18T23:37:00.000-04:00

It’s been one of those weeks where woohoo turned to blah…. We had a great few days with friends and family, and by Wednesday when everyone left, we entered into a new phase as the week drew to a close: both my little ones are sick! Coughs, sneezes, fevers, concoctions involving honey and lemon, dirty Kleenexes, sponge bathes and a rectal thermometer have been our life for the past two days. Our home has become a hospital that was open all night last night so much so that Lou stayed home today to try and get some sleep. With coughs and sneezes depositing bits of spit on my face while I hold my dear little ones, I am hoping that they are making me immune, immune to the body-racking coughs that have overtaken them both. It is a horrid thing to watch your child be sick and to feel helpless to be able to stop it all. I know a cold is nothing compared to watching a child sick with leukemia, cancer or any other life-threatening disease, but the feeling of helplessness is the same. We are blessed that they are healthy in all other ways, but being in this position has caused my mind to shift to those parents all across the world sitting by the beds of their ailing children and if only for this brief moment I share in their pain and anxiety. And I hope and pray that they also are able trust in the hope that I have: “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.” -Romans 12:12

domesticated bliss

2008-09-12T10:37:00.000-04:00

Today was definitely one of those days when I felt quite domesticated. Our iron broke yesterday. It really was about time, it was Lou’s ‘bachelor’ iron from more than 6 years ago. So off I was this morning (for the third time in three days) to Target. The iron was my sole purchase and with my two kids in tow the look the cashier gave me made me feel that I should have had my hair in rollers wearing my ‘housewife robe’. Well, whatever! I am very excited about my new iron.

It glides over the clothes with such ease that I was actually smiling through the arduous task of lessening our ever-growing pile of items to be ironed. Never in my life would I imagine that an iron would put a smile on my face. Well it did. Hopefully this puts a smile on yours.

art?

2008-09-10T16:46:00.000-04:00

either i am witness to the life of a budding artist...

(toilet paper by Nicolas) or i am witness to the development of a boy! I have given up on trying to figure out the thought process or line of logic on my own. Lou is reading Bringing Up Boys and I am eager to get my hands on it, anything that will help give me answers or a window into this great unknown.

answers to questions such as why? Why do the things they do?

(my mom would probably say it is hereditary since I supposedly ate half a centipede at around this age... but I refuse to believe such a tale).

thank goodness he is mostly inside for now,

because if it has to do with slugs, snails or puppy dog tails... he is certainly going to find a way to mess with it.

simple pleasures

2008-09-02T14:31:00.000-04:00

The weekend was a good one: a night on the town to celebrate a friend’s birthday, visits to the water park, more birthday celebrations, church, sleep, a good movie, and even more visits and phone calls with good friends. It was the first time in a long time that our weekend was almost entirely devoted to being with friends we had not seen in a long time. Talking and just reminding each other that despite the distance of time, our love for each other had not waivered. True friends really are one of the simple pleasures in life. They encourage, make you laugh, they listen, they share and best of all they love unconditionally. We are blessed to have some really great friends. The kids managed to enjoy some simple pleasures of their own. Laughing and running with friends, pizza and water parks make for great weekends in any kid's life. Here were some moments of firsts I watched them enjoy…

discovering the goody bag

discovering dirt

tortilla soup

2008-09-02T14:25:00.002-04:00

Recipe: Tortilla Soup
What a fun movie!

If you love great family stories,
you love food and you love cooking,
or if you have a cactus plant and want to know what you can do with it to make it edible…

You have got to watch this movie.

excuses, excuses

2008-08-18T22:10:00.000-04:00

To say that I have been consistent in my writing, even away from this blog would be a fallacy. The desire remains and yet I have not committed the rambling and fleeting thoughts that consume me throughout the day to paper. There are many things to blame: 1. The fact that I realized today that what we had been experiencing with my little princess up until this point was not in fact the terrible twos. No, I believe that began this week. Besides behavioral issues including locking her bedroom door so that we can’t sneak up on her anymore…we now have the pleasure of understanding her opinion. Regardless of the issue, her opinion on the matter invariably involves the word ‘no’. “You should write about this” my mind tells me…but almost without fail, the process involved in taming the two-year old usually causes my fleeting thoughts to do just that…fleet. 2. My prince charming who is now at the delightful age of 8 months has begun to venture around on his own on our tile floors. In order to protect him from the tantrums or kind gestures of the princess, I am often following him around to soften any bumps or tumbles that may occur. I must clarify; she is not mean to him. She is often very kind. But even kindness can be dangerous. For example, today we were eating grapes. She was eating hers, and he was eating grapes that had been halved and peeled. I walked into the room as she was about to share with him by stuffing an entire grape (unpeeled or halved) into his mouth… Aaah! With moments such as these throughout the day, again my fleeting thoughts sometimes never have the chance to recollect themselves onto a page. And so I am somewhat proud of myself today for I have done what I have long desired to do: I have written. I came across something today and it left me thinking about my desires as opposed to my actions, regardless of my excuses. Whatever we learn to do, we learn by actually doing it. People come to be builders, for instance, by building, and harp players, by playing the harp. In the same way, by doing just acts we come to be just. By doing self-controlled acts, we come to be self-controlled, and by doing brave acts, we become brave. (Aristotle)

Cool!

2008-08-14T20:31:00.000-04:00

In case you haven't noticed, various foods we eat in the US are now being labeled with a country of origin label (COOL).
I am feeling so enlightentened by all this new information. For example, here in sunny Florida we get our oranges from South Africa!

Seen any other crazy imports?

that thing

2008-05-31T23:17:00.000-04:00

I was given a glimpse into the developing relationship of a father and his daughter today. They share a ritual each evening of singing and playing in bed before our little one goes off to sleep.

I sometimes fill in for her beloved Papi, making sure to do the antics I know he performs in order so that she won't feel short-changed for having me tuck her in instead of him.
There are times she reminds me of what I need to do, stroking her chin as she mimics what he would do with his goatee..."hmmm" she says as she reenacts his efforts to think of the next song they will sing. I usually think I do a good job and she often concurs by bathing me in kisses saying "nigh nigh" before drifting off to sleep.

Today I was simply floored when Lou opened my eyes to another ritual they share. He was lying on the couch when she walked up to him licked her fingers and began to try to remove his wedding band. Laughing loudly he looked over at me and said,
-So we have this thing that we do at night now.
-A thing? I responded.
-Yeah, now she has started to want to remove my wedding band and put in on her finger.
-Really?
-Yeah, I kind of have to lick my finger to get it off, and ever since she noticed that, she comes up to me licking her fingers when she wants to take it off.

"How long has this been going on?" I think to myself, "they have a thing?"

It was then I realized that they will always have a thing...
a secret father-daughter club of giggles, tickles, splashes, tears, joys, long walks, flowers, games, ice cream cones, pillow flights, indoor and outdoor adventures, piggyback rides, pool days, beach days, the park, the zoo...

and eventually, as my dad reminded me the other day,
the first date.

a whole lotta lovin’

2008-02-15T09:08:00.000-05:00

There comes a time in the life of every mother when she knows the silence isn't right. It becomes eerie and eventually becomes a silence that rings in her ear. My time came yesterday afternoon at around 5:00pm. I looked and called for her all around the house with no reply. I found her in our bed with nail polish all over her feet. I didn't have a nice way of responding to this predicament so I called for her father who happened to be working from home. His response was a lot more favorable (to her): He laughed. She laughed. And so I couldn't help but laugh too. I should have known this would happen. I painted my toe nails bright red that morning in the true spirit of Valentines Day. I saw her eyes dazzle when she saw the flash of red. I should have known it would only be a matter of time before her curiosity would get the best of her. Of course, Lou lovingly pointed out that it didn't help that I left the pouch with all my nail supplies on the bed. Another brilliant mom moment. Live and learn... Actually on Valentines’ morning I learnt of a couple to whom I am gratefully indebted: Mildred and Richard Loving. Hailed as the couple around whose relationship interracial marriage was finally legalized in the United States, they were jailed and endured a Supreme Court trial, Loving vs. Virginia before their marriage was finally recognized on June 12, 1967. Seems to me we should be celebrating Valentines Day on that date. I never realized truly how much of a gift it is to be free to love the one I do.

PBJ and C?

2008-02-11T21:24:00.000-05:00

It’s lunchtime again and I really don’t feel like racking my brain to come up with some elaborate concoction. We ate out last night so there are no leftovers in the house. I ran this morning; read about a Big Fat Hen and Peekaboo Kisses in story time at the library; went to the bank, post office, supermarket and returned overdue movies to Blockbuster. Now after having her nap my little Miss is ready to have her lunch. ‘A sandwich will have to suffice’ I say to myself, and as she gobbles it down with giggles and ‘hmms’ in between each bite, she has no idea that she is partaking in a cultural melee that will be a part of the rest of her life. I grew up eating jelly and cheese sandwiches. I won’t say that is a Jamaican thing, but it was something we did in our family: strawberry, mango, guava or grape jelly with slices of imported New Zealand’s Anchor Cheddar Cheese. I fondly remember the taste every time I arrive at one of those ‘I can’t be bothered to think of what to cook, but I need to eat’ moments. The sandwich has evolved over the years. I have yet to find that beloved cheddar cheese in the US, and with the cultural influences from all over, the ingredients of the sandwich have been varied on various occasions: sometimes bananas replace jelly, or as original as it sounds…the cheese is sometimes replaced by peanut butter (something I detested as a child). All this brings me to today’s sandwich: an abomination in the eyes of my sister, who says: “It’s just not right,” And my husband who thinks, “It’s un-American” Well, he’s right! It’s Jamerican J -Peanut butter, strawberry preserves & extra sharp cheddar cheese- I don’t get why the idea of this combination is so repulsive to so many. To me it’s just practical: a merging of cultures that has evolved over time, and downright delicious. As she bangs her empty plate on her tray, I can tell the little Miss agrees. Not a crumb remains. I just know the undistinguishable words she is uttering right now are saying: “Thanks for lunch mom, you’re the best!”

storytime

2008-02-02T19:48:00.000-05:00

I am aware that I have been absent for a while. I have thought of writing so many times. There are so many stories to tell:

There was the time we went to the beach – the waves were rough and my little princess and her abuelita stayed on the shore enjoying the constant lap of the water, bubbles and sand. It was a pleasant moment and I was taking pictures. They looked up towards me, and in came a big one! Smiles turned to shock as the wave washed over their heads. The immediate concern was obviously my 22-month old, who instead of being concerned herself, emerged from under the wave with a huge grin on her face, turned around and tried to race back out towards the ocean to catch the wave that had knocked her over. No Fear. I called Lou on the phone and declared, “Your child is a fearless warrior.” Of late I have been mesmerized by the art of storytelling. While we lived out the saga of our little beach expedition, I was reading a book The Year of Fog about the abduction of a little girl from a beach. Despite the paranoia that the book embedded within me, I was fascinated as the author disclosed the power, or lack there of in memory. Have you ever realized that as soon as something occurs and enters our memory it begins to fade? Becoming unclear, almost like fog. We add details, we forget details, and years later we have made up something that we convince ourselves is what really happened. Here is what I do remember: We arrived at the hospital around 12:30am. My contractions were 5 minutes apart but they were on the mild side and so we (including the hospital staff), were not too concerned. We fell asleep. At 3:30 am I noticed I was waking up in pain around every two minutes. I remembered what the nurse had told me earlier that night: “It’s the middle of the night it will take an hour to an hour and a half to get the anesthesiologist…” I immediately called for the epidural. I fell asleep. At 5:15 am the pain was constant. I called again. The nurse came to check up on me… “You’re ready!” she quipped, as if I would be thrilled. This is where my fog begins. There is a knock on the door and she tells the anesthesiologist it’s too late, that I’m ready. “Wait a sec, NO!” I think to myself. I hear myself utter the words "what do you mean? I need the epidural! I can’t…” “You’ll be fine” she tries to assure me. I was. He was born perfect at 6:27am, before the epidural, and before my OB arrived. Someday I will relay this story to him (probably as part of a threatening speech), although for right now, I cannot imagine such a conversation. There are so many stories to tell. It has been 6 weeks. I could tell you that his big sister kisses him at least 3 times each time she enters the room. I could tell you he has the most peaceful eyes and little face. I could tell you the camera’s attempt to capture this memory really does not do him justice. I could tell you he loves to groan and that I call him mi viejito (my little old man) at times. I could tell you that he is beginning to ‘coo’ and smile, and that with each one he melts my heart and no matter what, I smile.

Tortilla Soup Recipe

2008-01-16T21:10:00.001-05:00

(Serves 4)
Ingredients
6 small corn tortillas, preferably a little old and dried out
1/4 cup peanut oil (canola or vegetable oil is fine if you have nothing else)
1 small onion, chopped (1/2 cup)
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 medium poblano or jalapeño chile, seeded, veins removed, chopped (depending on how hot and flavorful you desire the soup. I have used a few slices of bottled jalapeno before. If you have none of these options, use red pepper flakes)
4 cups chicken broth or homemade chicken stock (homemade is ALWAYS better)
1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes, undrained
1/2 teaspoon coarse salt (kosher or sea salt)
1 1/2 cups shredded cooked chicken
1 ripe medium avocado
1/2 cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese (or other mild, melting cheese)
Chopped fresh cilantro (please do not skip this ingredient, this makes the dish!)
1 lime, cut into wedges
Method
1. Old, dried out tortillas are the best, but if your tortillas are fresh, put them on a baking sheet and put them in the oven at 200°F for 10 minutes to dry them out a bit. If you use flour tortillas be sure to do dry them out as well. It is best to not have a lot of moisture in the tortillas.
2. Cut tortillas in half; cut halves into 1/4-inch strips. Heat oil in a saucepan over medium-high heat; fry strips in oil, (small batches at a time), until light brown and crisp. Remove from pan; drain on paper towels. Save for later.
3. Heat the oil that remains in the saucepan over medium-high heat. Cook onion in oil for 2 minutes, stirring frequently. Add garlic and chile; cook 2 to 3 minutes, stirring frequently.
4. Stir in broth, tomatoes and salt. Heat to boiling. Reduce heat; cover and simmer 15 minutes. Add chicken; heat until hot.
5. Slice, peel and pit the avocado. Divide half of the tortilla strips among 4 individual serving bowls; ladle in soup. Top with avocado and cheese; garnish with remaining tortilla strips and cilantro. Serve with lime wedges.