I have been tossing the idea around about sharing what I'm about to share, wondering if I should or not. I finally decided to just go ahead and share it, even if discussing such things are taboo or would make people feel uncomfortable. If for no other reason, I figured it would help to put my thoughts down on paper (so to speak), but I am hoping that this blesses someone out there in a way that I couldn't have imagined.
Anthony and I discussed the idea of baby number 3 for a long time before we came to a decision. I know "long time" might sound funny, given that our kids aren't spaced that far apart. But the discussion began long before my daughter turned one. We both had reasons for and against another one, some of them good reasons, others bordering on downright silly.
We eventually did decide to try for another one and I became pregnant right away. We were excited and were looking forward to the ten week ultrasound when we would get to see the baby, know that all was OK, and share the news with everyone, especially the kids.
At eight and a half weeks, I started experiencing some bleeding and went in to be checked out. It was discovered that my baby didn't have a heartbeat. I had miscarried.
We were devastated. It was completely unexpected. It is amazing to me how attached you become to a baby that is hardly a baby yet. But we did become attached. We had started tossing around names just for fun. We had started looking at the due date on the calendar and tried to figure out how that was going to fit in with our plans for that time. We started wondering if the baby was a boy or girl. With the 10 week ultrasound only a week and a half a way, we had started getting really excited about telling the kids. Maybe that is not most people's experience, but I am a planner. I think things through. And I had already started planning out all these things in my head regarding the baby. I was already so attached.
But then all these plans were taken away and we were left in an awkward situation. No one knew we were expecting, so do we bother to tell anyone I had miscarried? We decided to tell our parents and siblings, as we felt they deserved to know and that it might be nice to have some support should we need it.
I hesitate to say this because I don't want to hurt anybody close to me, but miscarrying is an incredibly isolating experience. Anthony was sad, sure, but I had experienced the loss in a way he didn't. I had to cope with the physical loss as well as the emotional loss. And it created some awkward situations. Do you talk about it, do you not? I'm sure nobody wanted to say anything that would upset me, or perhaps no one knew quite what to say given they had never had the same experience. Either way, at times it was weird.
It took a little time, but we did move on. Getting pregnant so quickly following the miscarriage certainly helped. And while I am sad that I never got the chance to meet the baby we created, I am so very grateful for this baby, for this gift, and I look forward to meeting her soon.
Fast forward to today, and we get to the point of this post. Given my due date, and the fact that the c-section would have been scheduled about a week early, my baby would be about 2 weeks old today. That thought just struck me as odd. Our lives have been crazy busy since about November up until now. We have hardly had time to fit in everything as it is, so I can't imagine trying to fit in all the stuff that we need to do before the baby arrives. I just don't even know how we would have made that work.
And then this also occurred to me. The c-section would likely have been schedule for either January 30th or February 4th. The first date is the day Anthony's grandfather passed away, and the second is the date of his funeral. So as I let my mind wander, I have been trying to wrap my mind around how that all would have worked.
My point is this, God's plan for our lives is always, ALWAYS, better than our own. I wish I could say that I handled the loss as gracefully and faithfully as Job, but the truth is that I was hurt, and angry, and wondering why. Our plan was to have a baby in late Jan. /early Feb., but that wasn't God's plan for us. I couldn't understand that at the time but I do now, and I see that his plan is better.
God doesn't always reveal the WHY behind the things that happen to us. When I am having a bad day, when nothing seems to be going right, it is easy to get caught up in the 'Why is this happening to me?' mindset. Why, why, why, why, WHY!?! But I know that, even though I don't understand it, God knows best. His plan is always best. And I find that so comforting.
Sincerely,
The-M-O-M
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Girl Drama
One of the reasons I was none too thrilled about having a daughter of my own was "girl drama". Any girl who has ever been through high school or anyone who has ever raised a daughter of their own will know exactly what I am talking about.
Now my daughter, well, she's the "I want what I want and I want it now" and the "If i ain't happy ain't nobody happy" sort of a girl. Maybe that's a bit harsh, she's not really that bad. But she definitely has her ideas about what she wants and isn't afraid to let you know it at deafening decibels.
My mind has certainly been changed about raising a daughter. I love my daughter and couldn't imagine life without her. I have gotten into way more of the girly stuff than I ever thought I would. Now I'm all about the cute shoes, headbands, dresses. I love to watch her play with her baby doll. Even so, there is always this dark cloud looming overhead. The cloud that you try to forget about. The girl drama cloud. I scarcely think of it anymore because I thought it was so many years down the road.
This past weekend, my sister-in-law and I were at a bridal shower. The bride-to-be commented on her niece's choice of shoes, saying that she obviously picked out her own shoes. And it was obvious. She was wearing a Dora t-shirt, jean Capris, and black dress shoes that click-clacked as she walked. My SIL and I were talking about the dilemma. You don't want to stifle your child's creativity, but at the same time you don't want everyone to think you can't dress your own kid. Then again, why do you care what other people think? See the dilemma? But, I thought, I had a couple of years before my daughter insisted on this outfit or that, these shoes or those.
Then the other day we were getting ready to go out and help my husband and son wash our cars. I grabbed her pink Jumping Beans sandals. These are her play sandals. They are a nice shade of pink but other than that not much to look at. Just your everyday Velcro-on sandal.
But as soon as I reached for her play sandals, she immediately starts screeching, yes, screeching, and pointing at something else. I look in the direction she is pointing. She's pointing at a different pair of sandals. These are cute flip-flops with cherries printed on the flip-flop and pink sparkly straps. I asked her if she wants those ones. She nods. I sigh. Then I try to reason with her (why, I don't know. You can't reason with a toddler). I tell her that these ones don't stay on as well and so they aren't as good to play in.
As you might imagine, she wanted what she wanted and wasn't going to be happy otherwise. Then I asked her, "Why do you like those? Because they are pretty?". She gives a big, over exaggerated nod, of which she is famous for. And so it begins, I thought to myself. I put the "pretty" sandals on her feet. As soon as she stood up she got the biggest grin on her face and began to giggle and stomp her feet. She was beyond excited.
When I told Anthony about the "girl drama", I believe his exact words were, "O geez". My sentiments exactly.
I will note that while playing outside her shoes did come off several times, her feet got dirty, and she was very unhappy, just like I tried to tell her. But sometimes they have to learn for themselves. And learn she did. Two days later, she hasn't asked to play in them since.
While I'm not too thrilled about the ensuing "drama", at the same time, it's fun to see her blossoming personality, her ever-changing likes and dislikes, and her budding independent, adventurous spirit. My, oh my, will she be a handful.
Sincerely,
The-No-More-Drama-Mama
Now my daughter, well, she's the "I want what I want and I want it now" and the "If i ain't happy ain't nobody happy" sort of a girl. Maybe that's a bit harsh, she's not really that bad. But she definitely has her ideas about what she wants and isn't afraid to let you know it at deafening decibels.
My mind has certainly been changed about raising a daughter. I love my daughter and couldn't imagine life without her. I have gotten into way more of the girly stuff than I ever thought I would. Now I'm all about the cute shoes, headbands, dresses. I love to watch her play with her baby doll. Even so, there is always this dark cloud looming overhead. The cloud that you try to forget about. The girl drama cloud. I scarcely think of it anymore because I thought it was so many years down the road.
This past weekend, my sister-in-law and I were at a bridal shower. The bride-to-be commented on her niece's choice of shoes, saying that she obviously picked out her own shoes. And it was obvious. She was wearing a Dora t-shirt, jean Capris, and black dress shoes that click-clacked as she walked. My SIL and I were talking about the dilemma. You don't want to stifle your child's creativity, but at the same time you don't want everyone to think you can't dress your own kid. Then again, why do you care what other people think? See the dilemma? But, I thought, I had a couple of years before my daughter insisted on this outfit or that, these shoes or those.
Then the other day we were getting ready to go out and help my husband and son wash our cars. I grabbed her pink Jumping Beans sandals. These are her play sandals. They are a nice shade of pink but other than that not much to look at. Just your everyday Velcro-on sandal.
But as soon as I reached for her play sandals, she immediately starts screeching, yes, screeching, and pointing at something else. I look in the direction she is pointing. She's pointing at a different pair of sandals. These are cute flip-flops with cherries printed on the flip-flop and pink sparkly straps. I asked her if she wants those ones. She nods. I sigh. Then I try to reason with her (why, I don't know. You can't reason with a toddler). I tell her that these ones don't stay on as well and so they aren't as good to play in.
As you might imagine, she wanted what she wanted and wasn't going to be happy otherwise. Then I asked her, "Why do you like those? Because they are pretty?". She gives a big, over exaggerated nod, of which she is famous for. And so it begins, I thought to myself. I put the "pretty" sandals on her feet. As soon as she stood up she got the biggest grin on her face and began to giggle and stomp her feet. She was beyond excited.
When I told Anthony about the "girl drama", I believe his exact words were, "O geez". My sentiments exactly.
I will note that while playing outside her shoes did come off several times, her feet got dirty, and she was very unhappy, just like I tried to tell her. But sometimes they have to learn for themselves. And learn she did. Two days later, she hasn't asked to play in them since.
While I'm not too thrilled about the ensuing "drama", at the same time, it's fun to see her blossoming personality, her ever-changing likes and dislikes, and her budding independent, adventurous spirit. My, oh my, will she be a handful.
Sincerely,
The-No-More-Drama-Mama
Monday, August 13, 2012
Garage Sale 101
Recently I posted on Facebook that I thought there should be an official garage sale handbook that all people should have to follow, because in my experience, most people's garage sales are deeply flawed and well, quite frankly, a waste of my time to stop at. So here I present to you some tips on throwing your next garage sale.
1. Do not advertise your sale as being huge because I will be expecting something truly huge and will most certainly be disappointed. Two tables of stuff Goodwill would throw away if you donated it does not a huge garage sale make.
2. Consider advertising your sale if you are selling kids clothing/items. Though this isn't necessary, consider the following. The people you want to come to your garage sale are people with kids as they would be most likely to purchase your items. Now, if most people are like me, they can't call up a babysitter every time they want to go to a garage sale, so they end up schlepping their kids with them. Do you think most people are going to drive around aimlessly looking for garage sales with kids items with kids in tow? Probably not, so by advertising, you would make such people aware of your sale and they can then stop (or not).
3. If you do advertise, be specific. I can't count the number of times I have seen the words "kids clothing" in an advertisement for a garage sale. Do you have boys clothes? Girls? Both? What sizes do you have? Again, for someone going to drag her kids with her, this is helpful information, as I likely won't go to a sale unless I know it at least has the sizes I need for my son and daughter.
4. Try to be organized. My time is precious and there is nothing more annoying to me than sifting through tables of clothes where boys and girls stuff is mixed together and all sizes are mixed together. Some people get annoyed by this. Therefore, you might sell more if it were more organized. Also, take the time to price your items. Having to ask about prices is annoying and being told, "ummm, I don't know, like, $.50 a piece" is even more annoying. You don't know? It's your garage sale.
5. Though it is hard, try to look at things as an objective third party that might be shopping your garage sale. Consider what you would be willing to pay if you were them and what condition you expect items to be in.
For example, though I know you are deeply attached to your children's clothing and it is hard to part with all the memories and you want to get the most money you can out of them to make it worth parting with them, let's be reasonable. I was recently at a garage sale that was charging $2.50 per item of clothing. Depending on the item, such as a nice dress for church, that would be ok. But keep in mind, this is a garage sale. You are selling used stuff. So for everyday t-shirts and pants, this is not ok, at least not with me. People can go to Kohl's and get new stuff on clearance for their kids for about $3.50. And when something is faded, stained, or torn, it's not worth anything even if it is name brand.
On that same note, I was also at two garage sales recently that were selling clothes that looked like they were from the late 1990's for about $2.00 a piece. I'm sure that these clothes were very nice back in the day, but I think it's time to move on.
6. Be clean and odor free. Would you want to go to a garage sale that looked so unsanitary that you felt as if you needed a shower afterwards? I went to one recently that looked like everything had been stored in their dirt floor basement for years. It was so filthy that I didn't want to touch anything. Again, look at things objectively, is that how you want to make people feel? Take the time to clean up your items or just consider saving everyone the gross factor and not having a sale at all.
On that same note, I was at a different sale recently in which everything looked clean, but had a funny odor to it like it had been sitting in boxes in the garage getting wet for that past couple of months. Again, not the kind of thing people want when they go to a sale.
So to recap, here are the basic guidelines for a successful garage sale:
1. Do not refer to your garage sale as huge.
2. Advertise your sale.
3. Be descriptive in you advertisement.
4. Have everything sorted and priced.
5. Price your items reasonably.
6. Don't sell dirty or odorous items.
It all seems like commonsense ideas, but trust me, you would be surprised.
Sincerely,
The-Annoyed-Garage-Sale-Going-Mom
1. Do not advertise your sale as being huge because I will be expecting something truly huge and will most certainly be disappointed. Two tables of stuff Goodwill would throw away if you donated it does not a huge garage sale make.
2. Consider advertising your sale if you are selling kids clothing/items. Though this isn't necessary, consider the following. The people you want to come to your garage sale are people with kids as they would be most likely to purchase your items. Now, if most people are like me, they can't call up a babysitter every time they want to go to a garage sale, so they end up schlepping their kids with them. Do you think most people are going to drive around aimlessly looking for garage sales with kids items with kids in tow? Probably not, so by advertising, you would make such people aware of your sale and they can then stop (or not).
3. If you do advertise, be specific. I can't count the number of times I have seen the words "kids clothing" in an advertisement for a garage sale. Do you have boys clothes? Girls? Both? What sizes do you have? Again, for someone going to drag her kids with her, this is helpful information, as I likely won't go to a sale unless I know it at least has the sizes I need for my son and daughter.
4. Try to be organized. My time is precious and there is nothing more annoying to me than sifting through tables of clothes where boys and girls stuff is mixed together and all sizes are mixed together. Some people get annoyed by this. Therefore, you might sell more if it were more organized. Also, take the time to price your items. Having to ask about prices is annoying and being told, "ummm, I don't know, like, $.50 a piece" is even more annoying. You don't know? It's your garage sale.
5. Though it is hard, try to look at things as an objective third party that might be shopping your garage sale. Consider what you would be willing to pay if you were them and what condition you expect items to be in.
For example, though I know you are deeply attached to your children's clothing and it is hard to part with all the memories and you want to get the most money you can out of them to make it worth parting with them, let's be reasonable. I was recently at a garage sale that was charging $2.50 per item of clothing. Depending on the item, such as a nice dress for church, that would be ok. But keep in mind, this is a garage sale. You are selling used stuff. So for everyday t-shirts and pants, this is not ok, at least not with me. People can go to Kohl's and get new stuff on clearance for their kids for about $3.50. And when something is faded, stained, or torn, it's not worth anything even if it is name brand.
On that same note, I was also at two garage sales recently that were selling clothes that looked like they were from the late 1990's for about $2.00 a piece. I'm sure that these clothes were very nice back in the day, but I think it's time to move on.
6. Be clean and odor free. Would you want to go to a garage sale that looked so unsanitary that you felt as if you needed a shower afterwards? I went to one recently that looked like everything had been stored in their dirt floor basement for years. It was so filthy that I didn't want to touch anything. Again, look at things objectively, is that how you want to make people feel? Take the time to clean up your items or just consider saving everyone the gross factor and not having a sale at all.
On that same note, I was at a different sale recently in which everything looked clean, but had a funny odor to it like it had been sitting in boxes in the garage getting wet for that past couple of months. Again, not the kind of thing people want when they go to a sale.
So to recap, here are the basic guidelines for a successful garage sale:
1. Do not refer to your garage sale as huge.
2. Advertise your sale.
3. Be descriptive in you advertisement.
4. Have everything sorted and priced.
5. Price your items reasonably.
6. Don't sell dirty or odorous items.
It all seems like commonsense ideas, but trust me, you would be surprised.
Sincerely,
The-Annoyed-Garage-Sale-Going-Mom
Thursday, July 26, 2012
The Recent Happenings
Here are some things that have happened with my kids lately that I wanted to share with all of you, because well...I just think my kids are so stinking cute! (It's sickening, I know...)
1. My son is making up his own words. When talking about the couches, or his bed, or pillows and blankets, one of the words we all use to describe these things is comfortable (an adjective). So somewhere in his mind, if these things are comfortable, or comfy as we would usually say in our house, and we wanted to refer to them as a noun, they must be collectively called "comf". So now when he is piling all his stuffed animals on the floor and wants to make the pile bigger with pillows and blankets he says, "I need to get some more comf".
2. Being in the process of raising to kids of my own, it's clear that kids most easily learn words they here repeated over and over. When my son was little and we still had our dog, he heard me refer to our dog as "dumb dog" on several occasions. That was probably not the best thing to say to the dog or say in front of my son, but our dog was pretty bad and at times I wanted to send some profanity his way. To refrain from doing so, since I don't think you should swear, I ended up just calling him a dumb dog. Looking back I realize that did little to teach my son about how to treat others with respect. This was made painfully clear when he blurted out one day at a young age "dumb dog".
So, this year we have had a bit of an ant problem in the house and my daughter really hates bugs. Every time she would see one she would yell out "ant, ant". My MIL who is here with the kids during the day, started asking her, "Should I get him?", meaning should I kill the ant and dispose of it. So now every time my daughter sees an ant she yells out "Ant, ant!", followed by "Get him!".
3. Both of my children love books but it can be a struggle at times to find ones that are appealing to both. My son doesn't mind reading some of the books aimed at younger kids, especially because so many of them he loved at one time and hasn't heard in a while, but that only lasts so long. So I was sifting through the books looking for one that both my son and daughter would enjoy. I decided on a book called "Mine-o-saur". It's a bit long for my daughter, so I wasn't sure if she would sit through it but if has great rhyming sequences in it and some repetition of the word "Mine".
Now the Mine-o-saur, of course, wanted everything to be "MINE!" as he says in the book. He was mean to the other kids at school and snatched all their snacks and toys away from them while shouting "Mine, Mine, Mine!" Then none of the other dinosaurs wanted to play with him because he wouldn't share, which made the mine-o-saur sad. So the mine-o-saur decides to apologize and give all their stuff back because what he really wants is to play and make friends. Do you see the moral of the story here?
Well, my daughter loved the book. And she even learned a new word from it. Can you guess? Yep. She learned to say "mine". So now when my son tries to take her things from her I hear her yelling "Mine. Mine. Mine!", which totally wasn't the point of the book. So while it's a great book loved by all, including myself, the moral of the story is a bit above the comprehension level of an 18 month old.
4. My daughter figured out at a young age that skipping the middle man and just doing things yourself is quicker and more efficient. Usually when she gets hurt we just kiss it and say "All better" and she runs along like nothing ever happened. She got to the point where she would point at her "ouchie" and grunt, indicating that she wanted us to kiss it. Then she learned to say "Ow" and make a kiss sound, indicating to us that she wanted us to kiss it. Now...she just kisses it herself. Really funny to see, but also really cute.
Sincerely,
The-M-O-M
1. My son is making up his own words. When talking about the couches, or his bed, or pillows and blankets, one of the words we all use to describe these things is comfortable (an adjective). So somewhere in his mind, if these things are comfortable, or comfy as we would usually say in our house, and we wanted to refer to them as a noun, they must be collectively called "comf". So now when he is piling all his stuffed animals on the floor and wants to make the pile bigger with pillows and blankets he says, "I need to get some more comf".
2. Being in the process of raising to kids of my own, it's clear that kids most easily learn words they here repeated over and over. When my son was little and we still had our dog, he heard me refer to our dog as "dumb dog" on several occasions. That was probably not the best thing to say to the dog or say in front of my son, but our dog was pretty bad and at times I wanted to send some profanity his way. To refrain from doing so, since I don't think you should swear, I ended up just calling him a dumb dog. Looking back I realize that did little to teach my son about how to treat others with respect. This was made painfully clear when he blurted out one day at a young age "dumb dog".
So, this year we have had a bit of an ant problem in the house and my daughter really hates bugs. Every time she would see one she would yell out "ant, ant". My MIL who is here with the kids during the day, started asking her, "Should I get him?", meaning should I kill the ant and dispose of it. So now every time my daughter sees an ant she yells out "Ant, ant!", followed by "Get him!".
3. Both of my children love books but it can be a struggle at times to find ones that are appealing to both. My son doesn't mind reading some of the books aimed at younger kids, especially because so many of them he loved at one time and hasn't heard in a while, but that only lasts so long. So I was sifting through the books looking for one that both my son and daughter would enjoy. I decided on a book called "Mine-o-saur". It's a bit long for my daughter, so I wasn't sure if she would sit through it but if has great rhyming sequences in it and some repetition of the word "Mine".
Now the Mine-o-saur, of course, wanted everything to be "MINE!" as he says in the book. He was mean to the other kids at school and snatched all their snacks and toys away from them while shouting "Mine, Mine, Mine!" Then none of the other dinosaurs wanted to play with him because he wouldn't share, which made the mine-o-saur sad. So the mine-o-saur decides to apologize and give all their stuff back because what he really wants is to play and make friends. Do you see the moral of the story here?
Well, my daughter loved the book. And she even learned a new word from it. Can you guess? Yep. She learned to say "mine". So now when my son tries to take her things from her I hear her yelling "Mine. Mine. Mine!", which totally wasn't the point of the book. So while it's a great book loved by all, including myself, the moral of the story is a bit above the comprehension level of an 18 month old.
4. My daughter figured out at a young age that skipping the middle man and just doing things yourself is quicker and more efficient. Usually when she gets hurt we just kiss it and say "All better" and she runs along like nothing ever happened. She got to the point where she would point at her "ouchie" and grunt, indicating that she wanted us to kiss it. Then she learned to say "Ow" and make a kiss sound, indicating to us that she wanted us to kiss it. Now...she just kisses it herself. Really funny to see, but also really cute.
Sincerely,
The-M-O-M
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
All Aboard the S.S. Imagination
Over the last couple of years, I have wacthed my son's imagination develop. The first signs of an emerging imagination (try saying that 3 times fast) came when he pretended to talk to someone on the phone.
Once he was a little older, he started making up these stories in his head while he played. He would get out all of his trucks or race cars, for example, and then come up with some scenario in his head that he would play out.
Then yesterday, there was yet another development. He involved other people in this imaginitive play. Anthony and my son were up in our bedroom sweeping it. My daughter and I came up a bit later. I had decided it was a good time to change the sheets/blankets on the bed. The kids we quite interested in the whole process (I'm glad they find it interesting!).
When I was finished, they jumped up on the bed to test out the clean sheets. They were jumping around for a bit and having a good time. Then my son asked me to get up on the bed. Then he said to Anthony, "Are you coming daddy? You have to get on. We are going to sail away." Anthony climbed on the bed with all of us. Then my son picked up a pillow, pretnding it was the ships steering wheel, and sailed off into the deep blue see.
"Where are we going Captain?", I asked him.
"We are going to the movie place (read movie theatre)," he said.
"And what movie are we going to watch."
"A Veggietales movie." And with that we continued to sail away. At last we were done sailing, and figuring it wouldn't be very much fun to pretend to sit and watch a movie, he said, "Ok. We watched the Veggietales movie and now we are playing."
I don't know why, but the whole thing just made me smile. Even at age 3, when all the seemingly big milestones (smiling, crawling, walking, talking) have past you by, each day brings something new, something to be excited about, something to cherish.
Sincerely,
The-M-O-M
Once he was a little older, he started making up these stories in his head while he played. He would get out all of his trucks or race cars, for example, and then come up with some scenario in his head that he would play out.
Then yesterday, there was yet another development. He involved other people in this imaginitive play. Anthony and my son were up in our bedroom sweeping it. My daughter and I came up a bit later. I had decided it was a good time to change the sheets/blankets on the bed. The kids we quite interested in the whole process (I'm glad they find it interesting!).
When I was finished, they jumped up on the bed to test out the clean sheets. They were jumping around for a bit and having a good time. Then my son asked me to get up on the bed. Then he said to Anthony, "Are you coming daddy? You have to get on. We are going to sail away." Anthony climbed on the bed with all of us. Then my son picked up a pillow, pretnding it was the ships steering wheel, and sailed off into the deep blue see.
"Where are we going Captain?", I asked him.
"We are going to the movie place (read movie theatre)," he said.
"And what movie are we going to watch."
"A Veggietales movie." And with that we continued to sail away. At last we were done sailing, and figuring it wouldn't be very much fun to pretend to sit and watch a movie, he said, "Ok. We watched the Veggietales movie and now we are playing."
I don't know why, but the whole thing just made me smile. Even at age 3, when all the seemingly big milestones (smiling, crawling, walking, talking) have past you by, each day brings something new, something to be excited about, something to cherish.
Sincerely,
The-M-O-M
Friday, June 22, 2012
American Calzone
So, first of all, I would like to say that after doing some research (since I needed to name this recipe I came up with) the recipe on my blog that I call Stromboli is actually a calzone. Who knew?
Any who...Anthony and I (and the kids) always go out to eat with his family after church on Sundays. We typically migrate towards places with buffets since it's easy to please a wide variety of tastes that way and get your fill. A pizza place we go to used to put subs out on their buffet. One of which was called an American sub. It was so good. But then one day the said they weren't going to put them out anymore. So since then, my run in with the American sub has been few and far between.
Now a couple of weeks back, I was doing my monthly grocery shopping. At the one store I was in, they had an insanely good price on Hormel Pepperoni and Hormel Salami. Like a 9oz. package for a dollar or something like that. So, I being the frugal shopper that I am, decided to spend money I hadn't intended on spending to take them up on their good deal. :) Funny how that works. I didn't really know what I was going to do with it other than maybe make some sandwiches for Anthony for work and feed it to the kids for lunch. (The kids love pepperoni, and though I didn't know it when I bought it, they also love salami.)
Then one day for whatever reason, I thought an American sub sounded good. Then I thought of all that meat in the refrigerator that would be great for an American sub or something of the kind. That's when I thought of an American sub crossed with a Stromboli. And thus my idea was born. (Not like I'm the only one to ever think of this.) I tested out my recipe and it was DELICIOUS! Tastes just like the sub I was making it after. Here is the recipe for your tasting pleasure!
Here's what you need:
2 1/2 C. flour
1 C. warm water
1 packet (1/4 oz.) yeast
1 T. sugar
1 T. oil
1 tsp. salt
Cooking Spray
Pepperoni and Salami (ham would also be nice, but I didn't have any)
Honey Mustard Dressing (I used Kraft)
Lettuce
Tomato
Onion
Oregano (optional)
Garlic Powder (optional)
Parmesan Cheese (optional)
Here's how you make it: (most of this is from my Stromboli post)
1. Combine the first six ingredients until you get something that looks like this.
2. At this point, use your hands to form the dough into a ball. Then knead the dough for a few minutes. I knead the dough right in the bowl, because I'm lazy and don't want to have to flour my counter top and then clean it up afterwards.
3. After a few minutes, form the dough into a ball.
4. I spray the dough ball with olive oil cooking spray and then cover with a wet paper towel to keep the dough moist while it rises. (I sometimes make my dough the night before and allow it to rise over night in the refrigerator. If I do this, then I cover the bowl with plastic wrap.) Allow to rise for at least 30 minutes.
5. Spray a pan with cooking spray. Then roll the dough into a rectangle.
Any who...Anthony and I (and the kids) always go out to eat with his family after church on Sundays. We typically migrate towards places with buffets since it's easy to please a wide variety of tastes that way and get your fill. A pizza place we go to used to put subs out on their buffet. One of which was called an American sub. It was so good. But then one day the said they weren't going to put them out anymore. So since then, my run in with the American sub has been few and far between.
Now a couple of weeks back, I was doing my monthly grocery shopping. At the one store I was in, they had an insanely good price on Hormel Pepperoni and Hormel Salami. Like a 9oz. package for a dollar or something like that. So, I being the frugal shopper that I am, decided to spend money I hadn't intended on spending to take them up on their good deal. :) Funny how that works. I didn't really know what I was going to do with it other than maybe make some sandwiches for Anthony for work and feed it to the kids for lunch. (The kids love pepperoni, and though I didn't know it when I bought it, they also love salami.)
Then one day for whatever reason, I thought an American sub sounded good. Then I thought of all that meat in the refrigerator that would be great for an American sub or something of the kind. That's when I thought of an American sub crossed with a Stromboli. And thus my idea was born. (Not like I'm the only one to ever think of this.) I tested out my recipe and it was DELICIOUS! Tastes just like the sub I was making it after. Here is the recipe for your tasting pleasure!
Here's what you need:
2 1/2 C. flour
1 C. warm water
1 packet (1/4 oz.) yeast
1 T. sugar
1 T. oil
1 tsp. salt
Cooking Spray
Pepperoni and Salami (ham would also be nice, but I didn't have any)
Honey Mustard Dressing (I used Kraft)
Lettuce
Tomato
Onion
Oregano (optional)
Garlic Powder (optional)
Parmesan Cheese (optional)
Here's how you make it: (most of this is from my Stromboli post)
1. Combine the first six ingredients until you get something that looks like this.
2. At this point, use your hands to form the dough into a ball. Then knead the dough for a few minutes. I knead the dough right in the bowl, because I'm lazy and don't want to have to flour my counter top and then clean it up afterwards.
3. After a few minutes, form the dough into a ball.
4. I spray the dough ball with olive oil cooking spray and then cover with a wet paper towel to keep the dough moist while it rises. (I sometimes make my dough the night before and allow it to rise over night in the refrigerator. If I do this, then I cover the bowl with plastic wrap.) Allow to rise for at least 30 minutes.
5. Spray a pan with cooking spray. Then roll the dough into a rectangle.
6. Spread the dressing over half of the dough. I didn't measure. Just use what you think is enough. Just don't put too much or it will be really runny on the inside.
7. Place a layer or pepperoni and a layer of salami on top of the dressing.
8. Then place a layer of lettuce, a layer of tomato, and a layer of onion on top of the meat.
9. Fold the other half of the dough over top of the toppings and crimp edges.
10. If you would like, you can sprinkle some oregano, garlic salt, and Parmesan cheese on top of the dough at this point. I do, and my family likes it, but you wouldn't have to.
11. Bake at 375 degrees for 20-25 minutes.
Voila! And so yummy! This one is definitely a keeper!
Sincerely,
The Mommy Chef
The Mommy Chef
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Fan-tas-TICK
Let me set the scene for you. I driving down the street I live on, looking forward to coming home after being at work. I notice as I pull up to the stop sign in front of our house that my mother-in-law was looking intently out the front window. Weird!, I thought to myself. They aren't normally sitting and staring out the front window. Her and the kids are always doing something fun together.
Then as I walk up to the side door, it opens for me. Weird!, I thought to myself. They don't usually open the door for me. Probably because most of the time they don't know I'm home, but still...
Then I walk in to find my MIL and son standing at the door. My son didn't have his shirt on. Weird!, I thought to myself. He's not normally topless when I get home.
Then I notice my MIL pointing at my son, with this interesting look on her face and trying to mouth something to me. Obviously confused, she asked, "Did you get my message?". Well, that can't be good!, I thought to myself.
"No," I said.
"He got bit by a tick," she told me.
I have to admit that in that moment I thought I must have walked into someone else's house. My son, bit by a tick? Not possible., I thought to myself. Not that he is immune from such things happening, I just never thought it would be something I would be confronted with in my lifetime. I mean, I know we have ticks in this area, but I naively thought they were mainly in wooded areas and you only got bit if you spent time in those areas. Well, I'm here to tell you that is not the case. They were only outside for a little bit in the morning and all they did was walk around the yard and look at flowers. Not the kind of activity I thought would lead to a tick bite.
My MIL said she woke Anthony up to ask him what to do. He didn't know and apparently, figuring he wasn't going to be any help to anybody, promptly went back to bed. I was pretty sure I knew what to do, but wanted to make sure I did everything exactly right, so I opted to call the nurse at my pediatricians office so she could walk me though the removal process. (Which, by the way, is silly because I have a nifty little first aid print out hanging on my fridge that covers things like this and I never seem to use it.)
Let me just say, removing a tick is not as easy as it sounds. Either that, or I'm just an idiot, but either way, I couldn't get the stinking thing out. My biggest fear was to pull on it too hard and rip off the body without getting the head out. So before I made the situation worse, I opted to schedule him a doctors appointment and let the professionals remove it.
Now, not a lot of things gross me out. At least I like to think I have a higher tolerance for gross things. But I don't do bugs. I just don't handle them well. And trying to yank this thing out was just almost more than I could handle to be honest. And, the doctors appointment was a couple of hours away, so I was forced to look at this thing on his shoulder for awhile.
I wanted to keep my son occupied and still so he didn't mess with the tick, so I put on a Thomas movie for him to watch. We were sitting there watching it, waiting for the minutes to go by so we could get this thing removed, when my son gets my attention.
"Mommy," he says, "there was a bug in my ear. It was tickling me."
I look over at his outstretched finger to see this bug crawling quickly up his hand onto his arm. What is that?, I wonder. I get up to take a look at it.
"That no bug!", I said. "That's a tick!" At this point I'm freaking out a bit and a little annoyed. Oh, and a little confused. This can't be a different one...but how can this be the same one? I quickly grab a Kleenex and pick up the tick. Then I look at the spot on my son's shoulder where the tick was. It was gone. Sure enough, it was the same tick.
Why this one let go I'm not so sure. I thought they stayed attached to you for awhile to get their fill. Whatever the reason, I'm grateful. That was certainly easier than taking him to the doctor. And I'm also grateful my son brought it to my attention before the tick decided to attach elsewhere or on someone else. I'm grateful that the tick was intact. Apparently, in terms of tick removal, this is a big deal. So hooray for that!
During this whole ordeal, my son was the picture of calmness. He didn't even bat an eye. So lastly, I'm grateful that the tick bit my son and not my daughter. That sounds like a weird thing to be grateful for, I know, but if you know much about my daughter, you know why. Bugs freak her out. Trust me, if there is an ant or a spider in the house, she will let you know it. If an ant crawls by her high chair, she yells out, "Ant, ant!" and is too terrified to eat until you remove it from her presence. If there is one on the floor, she yells out "Ant, ant" and, as upset as she is by it, it too scared to move. So I can only imagine what it would have been like had it been her and not my son. I think that trying to remove the tick from her would have been a lot more traumatic. My MIL actually said my daughter was freaked out when she realized it was on my son and she kept looking down her shirt to make sure there was nothing on her!
Now we sit and wait to make sure that he didn't catch anything from the tick. He was bitten by a Lone Star Tick. Fortunately, this tick doesn't transmit Lyme Disease. Unfortunately, it can transmit Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever and a few other diseases, though rare. Let's pray for the best!
Sincerely,
The Mother Who Has Felt Like She's Had Bugs Crawling On Her All Day!
Then as I walk up to the side door, it opens for me. Weird!, I thought to myself. They don't usually open the door for me. Probably because most of the time they don't know I'm home, but still...
Then I walk in to find my MIL and son standing at the door. My son didn't have his shirt on. Weird!, I thought to myself. He's not normally topless when I get home.
Then I notice my MIL pointing at my son, with this interesting look on her face and trying to mouth something to me. Obviously confused, she asked, "Did you get my message?". Well, that can't be good!, I thought to myself.
"No," I said.
"He got bit by a tick," she told me.
I have to admit that in that moment I thought I must have walked into someone else's house. My son, bit by a tick? Not possible., I thought to myself. Not that he is immune from such things happening, I just never thought it would be something I would be confronted with in my lifetime. I mean, I know we have ticks in this area, but I naively thought they were mainly in wooded areas and you only got bit if you spent time in those areas. Well, I'm here to tell you that is not the case. They were only outside for a little bit in the morning and all they did was walk around the yard and look at flowers. Not the kind of activity I thought would lead to a tick bite.
My MIL said she woke Anthony up to ask him what to do. He didn't know and apparently, figuring he wasn't going to be any help to anybody, promptly went back to bed. I was pretty sure I knew what to do, but wanted to make sure I did everything exactly right, so I opted to call the nurse at my pediatricians office so she could walk me though the removal process. (Which, by the way, is silly because I have a nifty little first aid print out hanging on my fridge that covers things like this and I never seem to use it.)
Let me just say, removing a tick is not as easy as it sounds. Either that, or I'm just an idiot, but either way, I couldn't get the stinking thing out. My biggest fear was to pull on it too hard and rip off the body without getting the head out. So before I made the situation worse, I opted to schedule him a doctors appointment and let the professionals remove it.
Now, not a lot of things gross me out. At least I like to think I have a higher tolerance for gross things. But I don't do bugs. I just don't handle them well. And trying to yank this thing out was just almost more than I could handle to be honest. And, the doctors appointment was a couple of hours away, so I was forced to look at this thing on his shoulder for awhile.
I wanted to keep my son occupied and still so he didn't mess with the tick, so I put on a Thomas movie for him to watch. We were sitting there watching it, waiting for the minutes to go by so we could get this thing removed, when my son gets my attention.
"Mommy," he says, "there was a bug in my ear. It was tickling me."
I look over at his outstretched finger to see this bug crawling quickly up his hand onto his arm. What is that?, I wonder. I get up to take a look at it.
"That no bug!", I said. "That's a tick!" At this point I'm freaking out a bit and a little annoyed. Oh, and a little confused. This can't be a different one...but how can this be the same one? I quickly grab a Kleenex and pick up the tick. Then I look at the spot on my son's shoulder where the tick was. It was gone. Sure enough, it was the same tick.
Why this one let go I'm not so sure. I thought they stayed attached to you for awhile to get their fill. Whatever the reason, I'm grateful. That was certainly easier than taking him to the doctor. And I'm also grateful my son brought it to my attention before the tick decided to attach elsewhere or on someone else. I'm grateful that the tick was intact. Apparently, in terms of tick removal, this is a big deal. So hooray for that!
During this whole ordeal, my son was the picture of calmness. He didn't even bat an eye. So lastly, I'm grateful that the tick bit my son and not my daughter. That sounds like a weird thing to be grateful for, I know, but if you know much about my daughter, you know why. Bugs freak her out. Trust me, if there is an ant or a spider in the house, she will let you know it. If an ant crawls by her high chair, she yells out, "Ant, ant!" and is too terrified to eat until you remove it from her presence. If there is one on the floor, she yells out "Ant, ant" and, as upset as she is by it, it too scared to move. So I can only imagine what it would have been like had it been her and not my son. I think that trying to remove the tick from her would have been a lot more traumatic. My MIL actually said my daughter was freaked out when she realized it was on my son and she kept looking down her shirt to make sure there was nothing on her!
Now we sit and wait to make sure that he didn't catch anything from the tick. He was bitten by a Lone Star Tick. Fortunately, this tick doesn't transmit Lyme Disease. Unfortunately, it can transmit Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever and a few other diseases, though rare. Let's pray for the best!
 |
| Isn't that just enough to gross you out? |
Sincerely,
The Mother Who Has Felt Like She's Had Bugs Crawling On Her All Day!
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