Laughing. Looking at the world upside down.

Mastering the Hula Hoop.  Teaching. Learning.

Embracing the random crazy nature of life, and finding new purposes for the kitchen.

~Happy Wednesday…

^{Three of my four babies…}

My children insisted on consuming every inch of space around me.  I was annoyed. Thankfully by nine in the evening, the little people started to fade.  I managed to snuggle one to sleep.  Then Amelie crawled into her brother’s arms–oh my heart–suddenly I stopped counting.  The minutes, the seconds,  I wasted–counting.  I realized in that moment the utter wealth I had had around me, I took a breath, and savored the fleeting moment with my growing babies.

…And minutes later we slept.

“Clocks slay time…time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life”

~William Faulkner

“Daddy, daddy, we had the best day ever!”

“We made strawberry-lemonade slushies”

“Both grandmas came to visit”

“We built the tallest castle”

“Mommy bought the big pretzels”

“I got a cut and I now have a Hulk Band-Aid!”

“And we’re eating bean soup!”

“Today is the best day ever!”

My sons didn’t mind the mounds of laundry I felt guilty for ignoring.  They didn’t mind that our house was a mess and the floors were filthy.  They didn’t care that dinner was thrown together at the last minute.  They were too busy enjoying the moment–the simple things.

It was a perfectly ordinary day.  I made slushies in the Vita-mix with overripe lemons and strawberry preserves.

I fixed boo-boos with Hulk Band-Aids.

I help build tall castles.

And I bought the big pretzels.

Nothing amazing or Pinterest worthy.  So. Very. Ordinary; yet, seen through the eyes of two four year old boys–it was the greatest day ever.  How did I miss this?  I suppose I was too busy feeling guilty for all the things I failed to accomplish.  Mom guilt, a silly waste of time.  I need to don the rose colored glasses of my boys and revel in the ordinary.

My kids do not need crazy complicated activities, crafts, nonstop adventure, or an immaculate house.  They need my attention, my love, and apparently big pretzels.  Easy.

Today my sweet boys reminded me to pay attention to the simple things and how ordinary life is extraordinary.

Nothing inspires a flurry of baking like the prospect of a sugar hiatus.  The thought of living without sugar makes life seem, well, not as sweet. 

Hi my name is Jennifer and I am sugar addict.  With my sugar sobriety fast approaching, I decided to go out with a bang;  I went on an all out, sugar infused baking bender–one final hurrah before my self-imposed temperance.  And of course, Valentines Day is just around the corner, so baking up some sweet stuff is a must don’t you think?  Ahhh, excuses, excuses…

Thank you Pinterest, my muse, for providing sugar porn aplenty.  Tiny pies, why yes, pie on a stick, but of course–bender worthy indeed!

I ended up making both “Pie Pops” and something my husband named Pop Hearts, a larger version of the pie pop, but without the stick.  Very Pop Tart like, but evermore delicious and without the dairy, egg, and ewww gelatin.

Start by preparing your pie dough.  I used the Buttery Double Crust recipe from Vegan Pie in the Sky.  I used one disc of dough for the Pie Pops and the other for the Pop Hearts.  Also roll out your dough thinner than you would for a traditional pie crust–much thinner.  I made mine a tad too thick, but they were wonderful despite this oversight.

Roll out your dough on a floured surface and watch out for wiggly baby toes if you happen to be babywearing while rolling out your pie dough.

A small,  2 inch cookie cutter works best for the pie pops, any larger and your pies will not stay on the sticks.  I used a larger size (the red one) for the Pop Hearts.

Lightly dust your cookie cutters.

I was able to get about 8 pops from one circle of dough.  Okay, make that 7 number eight was the ugly duckling.

And about seven Pop Hearts from the other because I rolled it thinner.

You can fill your Pie Pops and Pop Hearts with just about anything.  I was pressed for time and used what I had on hand–chocolate chips and raspberry preserves.

I used a little less than a teaspoon of raspberry preserves to fill the pops and added a few chocolate chips (for the Pop Hearts I used a heaping teaspoon of preserves).  Careful not to overfill your pies or the preserves will spill out of the sides.  Place your sticks firmly in the center of the heart. Dip your fingers in a little water and dab on the edges of both cut outs  to create a good seal.

Use a fork or an extra lollipop stick to further press the edges together–makes for a pretty crust.

Oh and don’t forget to prick the center of each pie to allow steam to escape.

After this you are ready to pop them into the oven at 375 degrees for 15-20 minutes, until they are ever so slightly golden brown.

Allow them to cool for a few minutes and put on a cooling rack.  When mine were completely cooled I dipped the tops of my pie pops in melted butter and a mixture of red and white sugar.

For the Pop Hearts I used both a strawberry glaze and then sprinkled them with red sugar.  This combination was so good I made a second batch the next morning.  Like I said I’m an addict.

The raspberry glaze is super simple to make.  Whisk together: 1 cup of confectioners’ sugar, 2 Tbs of melted Earth Balance, 2 Tbs of soy creamer, 1 tsp vanilla, and 1-2 Tbs raspberry preserves.  I even had a little glaze left over and I ate it with a spoon, perhaps I shouldn’t admit that…

While my Pie Pops do not hold a candle to the artistry of Bakerella (I mean, really, is that even possible) I am still very happy with how they turned out.  They were delicious and vegan!

Apparently these also double as baby bait.

~Peace and Love

Yesterday’s sunshine and temperate weather wooed us all outside.  We packed the Red flyer with blankets, a bag of Veggie Booty, a ukulele, and of course, little Amelie.   The boys hopped on their bikes, Kaity grabbed her camera and off we went–our crazy family…

I embraced the chaos, the imperfections, and relished this lovely moment with all four of my babies–these moments are fleeting.  Kaity, the giant, my oldest baby–grown–headless, next to the little people.  In this minute I am struck by their span of ages, and the realization that one day all of my babies will stand tall, older, faces easily captured in the same frame.

For now I am breathing it all in and appreciating what I have.

Paying attention to the music–this harmonized chaos.

With Pirate Booty and ukuleles…

And blurry brotherly love…

And sweet growing sisters with decades between them.  So many little lives and so many different paths.  Our family. Together.

For now.

So life isn’t a walk in the park in the proverbial sense, but today I took a walk to the park with all of my crazy beautiful babies.  Today, I lived in the moment, ignored the ticking of the clock, and enjoyed the minutes with these four amazing people.  I am so lucky.

And yet, a baby is exactly what this family needed.  This baby.  She fits. Perfectly…

Amelie Annabella Marie, our sweet bundle of light–our sun…

The planets adore her.

Spacetime,

continues…

Our universe,

and our love grows exponentially…

An entire year has passed; a crazy beautiful ride around the sun–our sun…

Amelie is my resolute little soul.  She insisted on becoming part of this manic family, this universe.  I did not want another baby, and thankfully the cosmos defied my efforts to contol it.  Silly fears clouded my view, I foolishly stared at the finger pointing to the sky and almost missed the utter sweetness of the sun, my Amelie.

 “The fool looks at a finger that points at the sky” (Amélie). 

39 weeks and counting...

What do you call a woman bouncing on a birthing ball, eating truckloads of pineapple and spicy curry, fervently ingesting castor oil, while simultaneously having sex with her husband?  Insane, yes, but not to her face unless of course you are comfortable losing an eye.

I have discovered that women in the throes of the final few weeks of pregnancy will do just about anything to shorten what begins to feel like a life sentence.  The beauty of pregnancy begins to wane somewhere around the 39^th week and desperation often takes hold of a once sensible woman.

Ahhh, and then comes the continual Google searches.  Simply type in the words natural labor induction and you will get a long list of sites detailing some of the things you can try to gently encourage your little one out of the womb.  The results are a mixed lot of suggestions that can be likened to fetish porn.  Copious amounts of sex and nipple stimulation are deemed natural labor inducers; these techniques seem to be the most effective, as they top the list on many of these sites.  I have not met too many pregnant women, who have the time nor the inclination to go through with the aforementioned methods; however, desperate times call for desperate measures.  There are many women on the internet that claim these two methods worked for them and are happily cradling their newborn bundle of joy.  Reading such claims only makes me want their blood, sorry these pregnancy hormones have transformed me into a bit of a bitch.

I too have fallen prey to some of the natural induction methods.  I have been eating pineapple, drinking red raspberry leaf tea, taking evening primrose, bouncing on the birthing ball, taking long walks, eating spicy food—you name it I’ve tried it!  Okay, so I’m not on my birthing ball having sex with my husband, please blight this image from your mind, ahem, moms who read this blog.  I will admit if I had the time and energy I would make an attempt.  Thankfully, my boys keep me quite busy and sexy time on the birth ball is not happening, sorry honey.

I have always heard that babies arrive when they decide it is time.   No amount of sex or pineapple will evict them from your uterus. Unfortunately, being patient and enjoying the moment is about all you can do.  If you want my advice, don’t waste your time on the various natural induction methods, snuggle your babies, enjoy your family, and revel in the wonders of pregnancy (yes, I know this is difficult at the end).

Today I plan to spend time with my boys and spend the day giving them my undivided attention.  Yes, my breakfast will consist of pineapple and I plan to take a long walk with my family, but I have no false hopes of any of this bringing on labor.  I will marvel at how lucky I am to have such a great family and appreciate the time I have to spend with my boys.   I will even find humor fielding their curious questions about the baby and how the baby will make its way out of my womb; however, I will emphasize that these questions are best posed in the privacy of our own home.  Not quite sure if pure unadulterated honesty is the best policy when explaining some of these things to a three year old.   Yesterday my son decided to give the waiting crowds at the hair salon a much needed anatomy lesson—proudly announcing that his new baby sister will soon be coming out of my vagina.  I can smile about it now, but yesterday was a different story…

And now for a few pictures of the most important people in my life…

My Three Favorite Boys...

My lovely daughter and some random fat lady...

Can you tell which one is my rebel?

“You grabbed that when I specifically told you not to, that’s naughty!” I snapped at my defiant son.

“Yeah, I’m naughty, it’s kinda my thing” He deadpanned.

Needless to say I was taken aback by his reply. My son is the proverbial James Dean, a rebel without pause. His defiance is not what I find so surprising; I’ve become well acquainted with his rebellious nature as of late. What surprises me most is his own calm acceptance of the fact that he is indeed a rule-breaker and has thus—at the ripe old age of three—embraced this defiant spirit. Dear god a penchant for rebellion paired with an impish grin, and dimples no less; my husband and I have some rocky years ahead indeed.

I have come to realize that I too need to make peace with that fact that his strong-willed nature is simply an unflinching aspect of his character. It is my job to channel this defiant energy into something positive. Yes, I realize I need to stop with the negative labeling and quit threatening that Santa will be bringing him a lump of coal or a stocking full of sticks if he keeps it up–don’t judge, I am very pregnant and quite desperate these days! My son has little fear of such consequences anyway. If I threaten him with the possibility of a Christmas of coal and sticks he sees this as a challenge. Yep, I have reason to believe that my cunning little man is attempting to call my bluff. He knows all too well that Santa is weak and will thusly cave come Christmas morning.

What kind of sadist would I be if I tried to win this battle and prove him wrong by filling his stocking with sticks and lump of carcinogenic rock? So rather than attempt to impel the idea that the fat man is a cruel and unforgiving persecutor I will man up and take hold of the reins. It is my job to be the fat cruel oppressor so to speak. I make the rules and I deliver the immediate consequences. It sounds so simple, but sometimes immediacy is difficult to deliver, especially when I am in the throes of the third trimester. Lithe, I am not; my physique these days could give Santa a run for his money. Waddling after two wily three-year olds is exhausting and my inner lazy parent would much rather rule from the comfort of my couch, spouting idle threats of a Christmas without presents. Instead I must uproot myself from the comfort of my couch and waddle after my sons, delivering my bag of resplendent consequences, ho, ho, ho…

I am doing the best I can these days. I still have fears that my son will grow up defying every rule and wind up in prison one day (a tad extreme, I know). I try to exhume comfort from the idea that some of the greatest men in history were considered rebels—men who defied conformity and stood up for justice despite the consequences. Rebelliousness does not have to be something indelibly negative and perhaps my little man’s defiant nature can one day be channeled into acts of integrity. Martin Luther King, Gandhi, inarguably both great men, men of integrity and men who flouted the general rule and stood up for peace, tolerance, and justice…

Oh crap, both of these great men were assassinated.

You mean more sugar wouldn't be prudent?

“Me too!”

Despite my best efforts to ignore the two groggy requests bellowing from the next room at four in the flipping morning, the requests persisted; five minutes later, yes it is now 4:05 am, I find myself squeezed between two toddler beds struggling to get The Duke Boys back to sleep. The pre-dawn tummy rub worked wonders on my boys, they were sleeping soundly fifteen minutes later. I, on the other hand, am wide awake—damn!

Sleep is for suckers, right?

I have little to say today, no wait, I have lot’s to say it just really doesn’t make much sense due to my lack of sleep. Thank goodness for Wordless Wednesday, oh and pumpkin cookies. Today is a good day to eat my weight in cookies, yes?

To keep my boys busy this afternoon and to ensure that my ass is properly padded the Duke boys and I took to the kitchen to create some sugar coated bribery, a.k.a, Pumpkin Oatmeal Cookies. Is there a better way to get your kids to do what you want?

“If you don’t take a nap you won’t get to eat one of those cookies we made”

“If you don’t pick up those toys and put them back where they belong you will not get a cookie after dinner”

Clearly communicating requests and delivering consistent consequences–pffffft! I find cookies to be a much more effective parenting tool.

These vegan cookies are wonderful! Heck, they have pumpkin, flax, organic oats–this is a healthy meal in cookie form, no? Maybe I should have left out the chocolate chips. Okay, they are a delicious desert, I promise. Don’t let the word vegan scare you. You can eat the batter and you don’t have to run to the store for eggs–score, no salmonella today! If you are interested in the recipe go here, now! You can’t go wrong with an original recipe by Isa Chandra Moskowitz.

My assistants. Will someone give those guys a haircut, okay or at least a hairnet...?

Luke, the shirtless chef. He's a wonder in the kitchen, when he's not picking his nose--cookie anyone?

I know I will be regretting this endeavor later, ahhhh the sugar crash...

Comes together in under 10 minutes!

This easy peasy recipe rocked my socks! I am always looking for quick, easy, family friendly meals for those uber crazy weeknights and I think I have discovered a new fave. Mr. Sarcasm and the kiddos loved them.
Smoky white bean quesadillas—no expensive, hard to find cheese alternative necessary, woo hoo!

I found this recipe on Vegweb, but I made a few changes.

~Enjoy

Smoky White Bean Quesadillas:

Ingredients:

4 whole wheat tortillas
1 cup white beans
1/3 cup nutritional yeast
½ cup chopped tomatoes (chunky salsa works great too)
2 tbs Vegenaise (or more if necessary)
1/8 tsp garlic powder
Dash of onion powder
Salt to taste
Dash of cayenne or pepper
Liquid smoke, few drops
Butter, small amount to spread on tortillas (I love Smart Balance for this)
Cilantro, Salsa, Avocados, Sour Cream (I used my cilantro cream for dipping) for serving

Directions:
In blender or food processor, blend together white beans and tomatoes until very smooth. Add nutritional yeast, Vegenaise, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, pepper, and liquid smoke. Blend again, until very smooth. You can add another tbs of Vegenaise if you desire a creamier consistency.

Heat a nonstick skillet over medium low heat. Lightly butter the outside of each tortilla. Place tortilla in skillet, spread bean mixture on tortilla, top with another tortilla. Cook over medium low heat until slightly browned and crisp, then flip and repeat on the other side. Bean mixture should be warm and melted and gooey. Remove from pan and slice (a pizza cutter works great for this). Top with tomatoes, sour cream or my favorite cilantro cream, tons of cilantro, and salsa.