Another year in the books...

So today is my 33rd Birthday!

.... Don't everyone jump at once now. It's cool... No big.

I guess, I'm going to use this post to break my life down as it were. Enjoy, or don't. This blog, I write to track for me.

Things I have learned about myself this year:

• I am much stronger than I thought
• That asking for help and accepting is not weakness
• That finding every moment I can to find happiness alone is time well spent
• I can fix things that I found daunting (Frozen Water Tank and Pipes)
• I truly enjoy woodworking
• Car seat Dancing while everyone is watching, is not wrong
• My individuality is wonderful and something to celebrate
• Make up is my obsession, yet I am comfortable being without
• Still not sure I can do Bleach blonde hair. 
• Music... speaks to my soul

Things I have learned about love:

• Any potential lover can look at me and tell me sweet things, but not many will take the time to show me sweet things
• My size, while it may an attract to a man - does not dictate who I am. 
• That most men that come at you 'Damn I love me a BBW' ... 90% of the time, they aren't seeking a serious relationship - mostly a fulfillment of some fantasy
• The best gifts - are homemade
• That it is Ok to go with how you feel in the moment without a future plan
• That it is more than ok to say 'No.' 
• That I can take care of me and trust that they are a grown adult who can handle themselves
• That the best experiences and connections START with the mental connection, and blossom in a Physical Connection
• That it is ok to be different and like different things, You never know WHAT you will discover with them

Things I have learned in Parenting:

• They are individuals
• They are wonderful, frustrating, Passionate, and curious
• It is my job to guide them while I have them
• They can cause more tears and fears and self doubt than a lover can
• They can also make you so proud and want to scream how AWESOME my children are
• That I have two compassionate children
• That it's also ok to seek help and try a different way to get your point across
• That they are just as fragile as I am in this whole situation, yet resilient. 
• Children are like the Japanese art of Kintsugi. Yes, they are going to break at some point, OUR jobs as parents, is to fill in the cracks and help put them together in the right way. If we use wonderful a powerful fillings of Gold (parables, lessons, compassion, love) these children will rise above the pain and brokenness, and become and inspiring work of art.

Things I have learned as a Friend:

• God found a way to give me the sisters I wasn't born with. 
• Fighting with them and coming back together means that ... Well no one else would take us! Not... means that no matter how much I feel hurt, I miss them more than my pride. 
• Best Friends mean you can be brutally honest about your feelings that you just can't with others
• Also - brutally honest about how your body is betraying you!
• While every friend has certain aspects that you are drawn too, there is no reason to look at my two besties and pick the one I love the most. Because they are the most unique and loving ladies I have ever known... and I couldn't see myself without them. 
• That you will not always agree with the decisions they make, but you can prepare if things go wrong. ... Never leave your Vodka at your friends house unmanned though!
• That new friends are awesome, and only add to your life
• That there is nothing better than a girl's night ... that doesn't have to leave the house but enjoy complete goofing off.
• That my life would be so incomplete with out them... I can do without lovers. My children will eventually leave my side to go make the world a better place... But I could never be without the support my friends, Best friends, acquaintances, colleagues, and casual ones provide. 

Goal Power!

I have set a goal.

That being said.... It is amazing the mindset you develop when you have settled yourself to a goal and embraced it.

... I will fully admit to being a crabby, zombie like mom. You make the supper, you get them cleaned up, you do the homework. Cycle after bloody cycle.

With the goal in mind and seeing the possibilities - I feel more alert and awake. I have everything I measure against meeting this goal. You wouldn't think that setting a goal and working to achieve it would make such a difference... But then why wouldn't it?

Setting Goals gives you focus and helps you set a standard for what you want to achieve.

Example -- Cleaning house? The FlyLady System is such a popular and working cleaning system for people who just... We don't clean. Have no idea what the 'f' that porous square is, shouldn't it be on TV making some annoying Giggle?

But the reason it works so well? Every step is a little goal. You achieve something and feel so much better because your small goals, small ladder steps if you would are getting you to the top so you can see so much better.

Exercise is the same thing, dieting is the same thing. the 21 Day Fix - it's through Beachbody, and right now they are having a sale on the whole system for $140.00, does the same thing. You set goals on the canisters of food, and it is so often more than you really can eat. I feel so much better when I follow this, and that is my goal now. Getting of this large tukus of mine and making this happen.

Small steps baby.... Small goals that stack up to make an awesome goal met. I think the top of this mountain is gonna look great when I get there.

For further information on goal setting and how to make it successful: http://thesuccessninja.com/setting-goals/ 

What a beautiful Day!

This was a view out my bedroom window one morning before work. The Little Black Cochin is our little Rooster, Roody Doo. The Lavender Orpington is our rooster, Rex. Other than that there is Goldie, the Cochin, and two as of yet unnamed Orpingtion hens.

It's been busy around here as we are settling into more out door activities and cleaning up our array of items about the house. With our horses gone, this spring is a bit different. Hope everyone is having a great weekend!

I'm also going to introduce our new memeber of the family - Pistol. She's a Black Lab/Golden Retriever Mix, all personality and cracks me up. She insists on sleeping between my husband and I, and is rather possessive of me.

I remember...

Today I went to church, and it was wonderful. The choir had an awesome program, and then the pastor came up to speak. And he requested that the congregation sing 'The Old Rugged Cross'.

My grandma loves that song, and I can remember curling up and listening to her sing it. She'd sing it while she was painting, and I just.. Wow.

Gran can't really sing anymore, and she's so much older and of course has her moments. But I miss being that little girl who curled up and listened to Grandma sing the old hymns. It just struck me today. That's all.

Have a happy Easter week, y'all!

Twenty-Eight Years Later...

We all go through stages in our lives. And it's hard to believe that I've almost been around three decades. Honestly, two years shy of 30, and a lot more learning to go.

It's amazing to think that I began as a small baby, albeit opinionated but still just a baby. From there, I have managed to accomplish the task of speaking. Something I'm sure some people wish I would unlearn.

And, I can proudly say that after 28 years, I can ALMOST walk without tripping over that stone that disappeared.

Best thing I've learned? I've learned how to love outside of myself, and be happy in the happiness of the ones who mean the most to me. I split my heart three ways, and they all walk and talk outside of me. They talk back, and call me names. But I never feel as whole unless I'm in a big family group hug. It's complete, all the pieces of my heart are back again.... then they squirm and wiggle and giggle and run away.

Second best thing... I can cook and feed others, and myself. I've fed myself a little too well, that goes without saying, but I love to cook. I love to share something that I know will nourish someone, and if it happens to have a little soul food included, even better.

I'm proud of my age, and will continue to be proud of my aging self. I feel that to not be proud that I have managed to continue to learn and survive every year would be an insult to my various life teachers (children included), and to those who have not be so fortunate to make another year.

What happens when they don't believe?

While we are preparing for our holiday today, I was struck by a conversation I had with a co-worker yesterday. "Does Tori still believe in Santa Clause?" I explained that yes she does, and that we encourage that he's a spirit that lives in us. But I don't think that did it real justice.

I will be ... Hang on, I have to think ... 2012 - 1984 = 28 next month. I honestly don't think about what my age will be, but rather my children's. But I am 27 at the moment, and I still believe in Santa Clause.

Why? Because I fervently believe that he is like the Parables used by Christ to demonstrate the joy of giving, and what it feels like to receive. I believe that Santa is really all of us, reaching out to make someone's holiday a little better, a little brighter, and a little more special.

What saddens me, is this feeling of helping others, giving to others, only lasts this one season. And unlike the parable of Santa, we have as a society only really granted those special favors to our loved ones, or ones we feel deserve it. Think about it. .... Just think for a moment about it.

The gift of a smile? It might actually cost you a few minutes of conversation.

The gift of a helping hand? It might cost you fifteen minutes. Maybe a few bucks.

The GIFT of a loving friend? That could cost you a lifetime of visits.

We used to as a society go down in the dredges and help others. But now we feel fear at helping others we don't know. But we are more than willing to throw a few bucks at it to make it go away and to 'ease our conscience' slightly.

When I was in a deep bought of postpartum depression, while hey, a few bucks helped me mingle by. I can never forget the one person, who cared enough to entertain me, to encourage me, and to help me. It's a kindness that I never will be able to repay. Even if things get rocky, and we don't speak for months. She is still in my prayers every night. And if she pops in my mind for a single second during the day, I still take my time to pray for her. She knows who she is. If she doesn't, all you need to know, she turned me on to the magic of making bread for my family.

So this Christmas, I choose to be thankful for my Santa Clauses. You dear people who encourage and strengthen me. Who make me want to be a little more compassionate in the world. While I may fail that at times, at lot of times in the past couple of months. Know that your kindnesses have always reminded me when I'm crabby, stubborn, and just plain bitchy... I need to show a little more kindness and compassion. I need to get out there more and help those who I can. Not just to strive through one more day, but to help build a lifetime of passion for life. A Passion for the good things, a passion for the bridges that we cross daily, and the rivers of knowledge that we gaze into.

A weekend of Celebration!

This weekend marked the 5th birthday of my darlin'. My Ian Marcus. Do you know, I love that little boy? That frustratingly sweet child of mine. The child who is just like his father. He's had a good birthday! While today is his official birthday, we celebrated on Saturday. He had several people come to visit, one though was visiting me, more on that later.

I think his favorite present is still... the toy Black and Decker Chainsaw! His first thing, I'm gonna go cut trees. Hey... I have a boy. One of those hyper blue blood boys old movies were made of. I love him. Granted, he still loves to play with dolls, his sister wanted to use the Chainsaw too. It was a win-win. God love them!

To the Thief who broke into my home...

Dear Sir. Yes, we know you're a guy. I am writing you this little note to express not only my displeasure with your actions against my family, my time, and my small joys, but I'm also wish to express my deepest sympathies for the recent death of your self respect and your ability to be self reliant. I know you must be grieving this loss, or in the simple shock and denial that it is in fact expired, and a part of your history.

Yes Sir, I understand that times are tough, and that jobs are few. But that doesn't mean that jobs aren't available, nor that jobs cannot be taken to make ends meet that are merely temporary. You sir, have taken to stealing other people's possessions, and probably some of the precious memories they had. For instance, you stole my iPod to which I hadn't yet downloaded the videos and pictures of a dear friend visiting that we hadn't seen since our marriage ceremony. How sad that in order to feel better about yourself, you had to take that from me.

You are void of any true self respect, because how else could you justify taking my things, my cherished memories and just treating them like the gravel beneath your feet. That Gravel is the start and main component of the concrete in my life. I resent that you took that from me. But I pity you since you apparently lack that component in yours and felt the need to steal mine.

I wish to warn you of this lifestyle you choose, in the end you will find yourself hollow and without substance. You will look at people you wish to befriend some day and realize that you have not only wronged them, but made them insecure and fearful, essentially viewing the lifestyle you've chosen as monstrous. This in turn will start to make you feel extremely self conscious to the point your friendships will be thin as water, and just as quick to disappear.. let's not even talk about how this affects a healthy relationship between lovers.

I hope you can and will turn around from this path. I pray that the acid of your choices can still be neutralized so you can one day feel better about yourself. I hope you find peace, and that someone, somewhere shows you kindness and compassion. Because God knows... you aren't showing it to yourself.

Long Time, No Blog

Well, it has been quite a while since I've updated this hootus. Recently, we had a friend come down to visit with us. He's been out of the country for awhile, and honestly, we missed him.

I dug out my southern roots, and honeys - He left weighing probably 5 pounds more. He arrived Friday evening to a Chicken and Dumplings. I only make Drop dumplings. I love the texture that comes from eating a good, thick, dumpling. Whenever I eat a rolled out Dumpling, while good, it often reminds me of eating a pasta, rather than dumpling. Our dumpling recipe is high on Egg content, which allows for enough protein to make a meaty dumpling that is filling.

For dessert - Chocolate Brownie ice cream with this decadent Brownie Pudding. It's a simple recipe that offers big impact considering what you use. The best part about this recipe is the fact of how it's made. You basically apply a paste to a greased pan. The trick however - is getting the watery topping on. I suggest using a large spoon and pouring into that spoon slowly and letting it hit the sides of your pan. What happens is, the liquid will sink to the bottom creating essentially a rich fudge sauce, and the brownie will cook and float on the top.

In the morning, I made overnight waffles. Unfortunately, the yeast didn't proof so they were heavy, but still yummy. Served with maple syrup and or Nutella.

Our final meal was a homemade Pizza, Pepperoni with Mozzerella and a three cheese blend. The sauce was made from scratch, and the crust was brushed in butter and topped with a garlic herb blend and a splattering of Kosher salt.

Well satisfied ladies and gents... very well satisfied!

Ack! How could I forget the Syrup!?

So, This month in order to save for a few items, Tom and I have been working to eat mostly out of our home and not bring in a whole load of food. One of the items I normally buy every few months is Pancake Syrup. But... I forgot it. So we were going to forgo the ritual of French Toast or Pancake breakfast that we have every Sunday morning... but then. I got a bee in my bonnet.

You can find everything on the internet from Bikini Clad gentleman, to a man dressed up like Eeyore with his miniature Donkey in a matching outfit. Seriously... it exists. So why not look for a knock-off syrup recipie that is just as good, and maybe even cheaper than the store versions. Preferably sans me going out and getting all Lumberjack-like and tappin' me some trees. Yeah... not boiling down 10 gallons of sap to get 2 quarts of syrup.

Allrecipes.com came to my aid! Bless them and their contributors!

The Cheater Pancake Syrup Recipe is super easy, super quick, and produces enough to make you really think twice about ever buying the store stuff again! I could not for the life of me find my Maple Extract, so I substituted Butter Flavoring and it was still completely awesome. So I share a picture of our Sunday Breakfast.

Berries, Apples, and.. Cobbler?! OH MY!

So, Monday was a rough day... The whole week previous was rough honestly. I was making Supper for the kids and decided we needed to leave the house for awhile. So, it was decided we needed to hunt Blackberries. So, we loaded in Daddy (Tom)'s Jeep and went into the field. We found a few, but the real awesome find, was the Granny Apple tree in the back corner. This is a tree that my brother and I would hunt when we were younger... We used to pick apples and feed them to Jackie, a bay muley mouthed mare who was like our dog.

So Tori, climbed on Mommy and Daddy while we pulled branches down and we got 4 apples that she really wanted to eat. Then we went to Uncle Bill & Marcus's Saw mill. The kids seen my brother there and watched the machinery work. Ian wants one... toys just aren't cutting it!

But we got home, and Tori was helping me work the blackberries and I was cutting the apples up for cobbler and we discussed cooking terms as I was applying my pie crust...

*as I'm reaching in the fridge* 'Momma needs to get her Cheater'. "Momma! You keep cheaters in there?!" *very serious look on her face*. While I am seriously considering saying yes, I say no. 'No baby, Cheaters are the bought Pie Crusts Momma keeps in here. I call them cheaters because I didn't make them from scratch'..... *Confused look* "Momma, what are you scratching then?".... 'Tori, from scratch means, Mommy actually took flour, salt, water, and butter to make a pie crust. Mommy didn't, so this isn't from scratch". ... 'You're silly Momma."

Anyway, folks try this cobbler! I've found that it works wonderfully with vanilla ice cream. It's warm, but sweet. Just what a family dessert should be.

Black Apple Cobbler -

1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp cloves
1 tsp cinnamon
2 cups sugar
1 tsp Vanilla
2 tbls Flour
1/2 tsp salt
1 cup Chopped Granny Smith Apples
3 cup Blackberries

1 Refridgerated Pie Crust
2 Tbs Butter
2 tbs Sugar

Heat oven to 350 Degrees.

Combine the first set of ingredients in a bowl, mix well. Pour in 9 x 9 pan. Cover with Pie Crust and settle in. Butter Crust and Sugar it. Fork the crust to make air vents. Make sure to say Poke every time you fork it, it adds fun to the dish.

Cook in oven for 45 minutes. Serve with Vanilla Ice Cream.

Their first Fishes!

So Wednesday last week, the kids and I went up to my Mom's and we went fishing. More correctly, Mom and the kids fished, Uncle Mike (my brother), and two of the neighborhood kids, Kenny & Jimmy, were there to help the kids take their fishes off the line.

Honestly, I don't fish. I don't like the slimy texture, and if I can't take the fish off the line, I'm not torturing the poor thing. But the kids are young enough to start fishing, and boy do they love it. They caught 6 or 7 fish between the two of them, and their first fishes are well documented. I'm not even sure what kind of fish they caught. I think it was a carp, but they are doing well and love to fish. I might get into fishing again. These are the things my children love. To be outside, and doing something. I think next weekend, we're going to start our gardening project next week.

We're behind, I got knocked on my rear this weekend. I must put a request out to all those lovely trees in my area. Could you please, learn to fornicate in more private ways rather than this public nuisance that is pollen, and subsequently a massive sinus infection for me? Thanks.

,~* Their First Fishes *~,

Wedding Bells...

Over this past weekend, my family partook in a wonderful and most beautiful event... the marriage of a pair of friend's of ours, Katy & Luke. They are a wonderful couple and deserve the best that their love and devotion to each other can create!

But, as always there are little things that happen in weddings, and some prove how gullible that children really are. I share with you, the detriment one bridesmaid did to my poor son, the ring bearer.

So I'm standing here trying to organize these little things in order to make sure we are good before we trek down to the wooded wedding chapel. The flower girl's basket, check. One, two, three bouquets, Check. Ring Pillow, Check. Rings for Ring Pillow.... Negative. Quick thinking reminded me that Tom wears three rings. All of these rings symbolize a stage in our relationship, but only one is actually worth more than two nickels rubbed together. I asked him to 'loan' his paste rings to the ceremony pillow just for show. He agrees and then, while I'm tying these two items to the pillow... Lissie talks to Ian.

'Now Ian, if you drop those rings, Mommy and Daddy won't be married anymore!'. ... ... ... He took her very seriously on this topic. He spent the whole time refusing to hold on to the actual pillow. But instead, walks his little self down the aisle, after being reminded that you have to walk down it, and cannot simple skate around the outside of the pavilion to where you need to stand, holding on to the rings tightly clutched in his little hand. And that is where his little hand stayed until we removed Daddy's rings from the pillow.

Poor child. I must teach him not to listen to Lissie.

**Side Note: Do check out the bottom, there are two pictures of my precious children dressed up for their respective positions in the wedding.

So Tori was a Tap Dancer...

She's so cute whenever she thinks that she's all that, isn't she? *grins*

I was actually VERY proud of my daughter and her whole class during their Tap Dance at the Cosmopolitan Club Variety Show & Pageant. It was a disaster until they danced.

Apparently, the song that the Teacher had was on a Cassette Tape. It's a really cute song, and I finally found it and may take it upon myself to buy it on the CD and give it to the teacher to avoid this NEXT year. Since Tori will also be in this class next year.

But the short story: They did not have the tape cued. For either the practice or the show. So during the show, on the stage, these poor kids had to stand there, for 4 minutes (I have the video and it is timed as such) while the technician had to cue the tape. So during random bits, the whole audience is hearing Whitney Houston.

My daughter as you can see, had very little make-up on. I chose to be that way because it's natural, and the only real make-up that she required was to even her skin tone and cover her 'raccoon eyes'. For those who do not know about the whole Stage thing. Those lights, bring out EVERY flaw and amplify it. So it was necessary for that much just enough to merely make her more photogenic and not look like something that stepped out of a Tim Burton movie all sallow looking and such.

But I am very proud of my daughter. She danced beautifully. Especially for as short of a time that she's been dancing.

My Acceptance Speech for the Best Loss of Sanity...

*waves and walks to the podium, gracefully tripping on the non-existent carpet - please ignore my facial twitch, it's rude to stare*

Thank you, Thank you dear ones. Oh it is so wonderful to be here amongst you all. It's always nice to be recognized by my colleagues with the same lack of sanity that I have.

I would first like to thank Adulthood for bringing me to this moment. Without your constant worries about bills, groceries, and my weight, I would be a sane normal person who would have no concept of the difference between living on a dime and living on the dollar. Nor would I understand what it means to have Thunder Thighs, or stretch marks the size of the grand canyon running across my rump.

I'd also like to thank my hormones, because without you, I wouldn't have the constant flux of emotions that keep my whole family on their toes! My children and husband will be well equipped for WWIII, because during certain parts of the month, their worlds are full of a constant eruption of splutters. They know how to use a fox hole now, They also know how to keep their mouths shut. My son will be well prepared for a relationship with a female, and my daughter will recognize most of the signs. I myself have learned how to avoid committing homicide. Also during these times, I have become acutely aware of the stupidity of the human race.

Though, We all know that without Motherhood - I would be just as able to adjust my responses to within normal limits. The constant lack of sleep, with the consistent work load increases, along with all the wonderful evenings spent being the depository for puke, piss, and crap ... along with a few bodily fluids I'm not really sure of. All these things left me with a wonderful way of looking at the world. I've learned that sanity is over rated, and some confusing imagination and creativity with a complete lack of true reality.

Thank you again dear ones... I'll make sure to save you a seat next to me at lunch in the Sanitarium. Kiss Kiss!

*waves and leaves with mic, muttering about how stupidly insane all of those people were*

It's all too fast...

You know... I had sick kids over the weekend. On top of that Tom gets to take a Albuterol Inhaler... I actually contemplated kicking him to his parents over the weekend and just putting up a sign that says: 'No cranky Sickies in the house'. Yeah, bet that would have went over well.

But here was the sad part of the weekend. I curled up with my baby boy.... he's not a baby anymore. He had trouble sleeping so I asked him to bring his blanket here and I'll rock him. He jumped for the chance. But it didn't ork out like it used to. He is almost too big for me to snuggle now. He's into 5t, but he's tallll... and he stretches all down my front and it was awkward to find a suitable position for him to lay in.

I can remember him being my velcro boy. Seriously, when he was a baby he'd just snuggle down in a ball and lay on your chest and just sit there all night. He was happy, he was comfy, and he was so sweet.

Now that he's almost annoying at times and I wonder what happened to that little child? He's sick and showing his rump and well, that means his rump gets shown where it needs to be. Please don't be all 'aw but he's sick'... If we're sick and at work... and our rumps show off, they get put right back in place, reguardless of what's going on. Work Ethics start here.

But he snuggled down and went to sleep peacefully. And I was weepy because I didn't want to realize how quickly this is all going by. My baby boy is no longer my 'baby boy'. He's growing up too fast, too quickly, and just... wow. *sigh*

I hate Shopping...

Seriously... Shopping bugs me. I doubt when I loose all the weight I want, I will like shopping then. Internet Browsing, yes I like that. Now, I be large... some might say my body simply expanded to fit in all my attitude. I did gain a lot of that after having kids. I attribute that to my birthing experience with Tori.

It wasn't bad, by any means. It was just when you are in the hospital for 30 hours, and everyone and their cousin is 'checking your dilation'... for those who don't know.... that's where they stick a hand up your hoo-hah and check how thinned and expanded the cervix is. I kinda got a little ... quirky after that.

But needless to say, shopping at my size sucks. Stores never carry my size, even my shoe size, which is an 11, is hard to find IN STORE. But online, you are still taking your chances. On top of that, 2 c-sections in a year later.... let's just say me naked isn't so pretty.

But I looove shopping for my kids. They're just the right size, they make such awesome clothes... I can even make pretty cute clothes cheap because it doesn't take a lot of fabric. So that's what I enjoy to shop for. Soon enough my daughter will shun what I buy and want what's cool. If what's cool ends up being like some of the popular styles of today.... well She can dress like that when she's MOVED OUT and I'm not paying her bills. Just sayin.

It Canna take No Mor' Cap'n!

I love making Scones. Seriously! The obsession starts back when I was 9 or 10.

* Initiate Time Travel Tunes* .. seriously I think it was Pam Tillis and Rhett Akins at this time.

My Dad, who traveled while I grew up, told me that he absolutely loved Shortbread. His Grandma used to make Shortbread. (Stepping back to the present, the shortbread that my dad is referring to, is now discovered to truly be a type of sourdough biscuit, back to the story) so started my love of baking.

Dad was getting ready to go back to Wichita at this point, and I decided I was going to make him shortbread. Not only did my first shortbread cookies like... they were horrible. I also burnt them. But my Dad, like every father should, didn't just take a bite and tell me how good they were... he ate the whole cookie and took the rest with him. I suspect to save the rest of the household from having to eat them.

I wasn't an idiot, I knew they were kinda cruddy for a cookie. I would try and try again and again to make these cookies. EVERY TIME ... I sucked at it. I could bake cakes, muffins, and the like. I'd even master Rouxs. But it was like I was making these things with my feet when I made them.

Now, I was 23 when I made my first GOOD batch of Shortbread. I followed a Scottish Recipe that I found on a Livejournal group, Food Porn. The secret, 10 strokes and you're done.

I like to think that I'm Captain Kirk on Star Trek on these cooking excursions. And my dough/ingredients are Scotty. If I try to push the dough too much I can just hear Scotty telling me 'The Gluten Canna Take It No More, Cap'n!'. Which... honestly is appropriate since I do love the Scottish Baking Recipes.

So while I'm trying to get meself a Shortbread Pan... I master Scones in the same step. If you want the tenderest, melt in your mouth scones that beat any real store bought ones... Try a Scottish Scone Recipe. It's not as hard as you think! My absolute favorite recipe I got from AllRecipes.com: World's Best Scones. When you master making these, You can adjust it however you want.

I have fresh blueberries, I think I'm going to add some Scones to my Chocolate Chip Cookie Muffies.

It's a Circus! At least my Mental Images are!

So, the other morning, I'm waking up, and Tor comes in. The dogs came in begging to be let out to relieve their poor little bladders. I asked Tori to open the door and let the dogs out. She was grumpy and decided she didn't want to. So she knitted her fingers together, and essentially polished the door knob with them.

Being half awake, I trudge into the living room. I take one look at how she's trying to open the door, and realize what's happening. I hear her saying the door is stuck, no more 'I Can't's because well, Mommy doesn't allow those words in my house. After watching this performance for five minutes, I realize one thing. She's just going to keep doing this balderdash until I do it myself.

So when I get them out, I look at Tori and I tell her that I'm disappointed that you did that. She looks at me with her eyes welling with tears at these words. I was worried. I spent all morning pondering what this might mean for her future.

So I immediately imagine myself, standing on plank, which is balancing on a ball. And in my arms, the squirming ever changing child constantly throwing me off balance as I try to straighten her up to what she should be.

When I look at this image, It really hits home. Is my daughter going to be one of those people who will constantly seek everyone's approval. Will she take it hard when the bully says she doesn't like her? Have I created a horrible person?

I roll this around and around in my head... until finally my mental image of me crashes to the ground, cradling the mental Tori as I hit the ground with a swift painful woosh of air escaping. My daughter sits up on my chest and looks down at me smiling... 'You're Silly Mommy'.

And it's true. My daughter does stand up for herself. She enjoys her own thing, and doesn't let anyone stop her... unless it's her elders pointing out that it's kinda dangerous. She even argues with her family members to make her point clear. She stands up to bullies. She's even told one that if they keep being mean, they'll never get married.

Which makes me think, my Hubby and I have done something right if she thinks that getting married is such a great thing to achieve. .... As long as she graduates college first.

I'm sorry.... It's a hard thing to say.

The other night, my son was playing rough with my Mom. For those of you who aren't familiar with the typical Child playing Formula, here you go:

Happy Child x Excitement x Sparring Partner x Tickles = Injuries!!

Suffice it to say, Mom got a good Nose bump (no blood, thankfully), and Ian got a knotty noggin. So, like all good Moms, I tell Ian and Mom to apologize to each other... Now let me clarify.

I am not an 'I'm sorry' will cut it kind of Mom. I believe a child's first real lesson in responsibility occurs in these moments when a child has injured another. Teaching them to make a proper apology, not just saying "I'm sorry", but clarifying why they are sorry. As in... "I'm sorry Mom that I broke your $60 China Plate that is REALLY hard to find"... Ok maybe not that specific, but at least 'I'm sorry I broke the plate'. Even for accidents.

I don't want my kids to go through life like some I know, people who look at you and say It was an accident. ... Yes bub, I know it was an accident you rear-ended me, but you still have to pay the piper... or my repairman in this case.

My daughter took awhile to really slam this lesson home for her. My son... I swear he's part Mule. ... No comments from my friend's pointing how stubborn I am, my blog, shh.

Going back to why we are writing this in the first place - Ian wasn't going to apologize. Instead, He took off running when we pointed out that giggling when Memaw's eyes were welling wasn't funny. After we retrieved him from his room - he was completely focused on his knotted noggin, that it must be all her fault. So Mom tries talking to him. He starts to cry, bawl, basically 'Memaw Lecture Neutralizer v3'. I had to intervene. So we try just calmly explaining that he needs to apologize too because he hit Memaw as well. That doesn't work.

Said son turns from Mule, to Stonewall Jackson. That's ok... I'm John Pope... or.. Jonita? So, while I put Ian in sit down time, I endure glares from my Mom, who might I add is still working on her Immunity from MLNv3. I explained to her several times, you did this to me HOW MANY TIMES?

Finally Mom leaves because Ian is still Stonewalling me. Finally he breaks down in sobs after realizing that Memaw is gone. So we sit down and talk. I asked him why he was in trouble.'I hit Memaw'. Well Ian, that wasn't nice, but that's not why you are in trouble. You wouldn't apologize. So we talked about it, in four-year old language by the way. We even brushed over responsibility for your actions.

In the end, he said he wanted to apologize to Memaw. So I call Memaw on the phone... He was silent the whole time. Just teared and sniffled. Also it was really late so I said he needed to go to bed and I loved him.

By the way - before you start. Even Pope lost troops, and I won this battle by at least getting the message of responsibility across. Be sure that Stonewall and Pope shall meet again!