A Hodgepodge of Thoughts

• I've been reading A Biblical Walk Through the Mass by Dr. Edward Sri for a church bible study.  It's been pretty thought provoking.  I'm only through Part 2, but I think that it really is allowing me to deepen my understanding of the Mass and the whole Mass.  So far, it has really helped me to become more deliberate with the sign of the cross.  I never realized the meaning and significance of this outward sign.  Now, I was never "swatting flies", but I feel like I can do it more reverently and and with greater intention.  It just feels more powerful, having read his reflections on the act.  His basic premise was that the sign of the cross is an act of self-protection and a sign of your deep faith in Christ.  I hope you'll take the time to read this book, especially with the coming Mass changes, as I feel it has the ability to really deepen your experience in the Mass.
• I've also started reading "The boy who came back from heaven" by Kevin Malarkey.  It's not Church-sanctioned, but I think it will be an interesting read, taken with a grain of salt.  I'm fascinated by stories of near-death experiences. The stories that come back from Heaven, about Our Lord, are just so interesting to me.  I know we don't have to "believe" them, yet I really like just an idea of what may await us.
• The new television schedule has been fun.  I love when the seasons start for my favorite shows, or finding new shoes.  One of "my" shows has been Guiliana and Bill.  I really identified with the fertility troubles that they are experiencing, though mine were different.  It does kind of tear at my heart to watch them go through their IVF, from two perspectives.  The first, is the obvious one, I remember how hard it was to try to conceive and I can still tap all those emotions that we experienced before our son came along.  The second, however, regardless of the empathy I feel for the couple, I struggle with the idea that they are creating so many embryos to just destroy the majority of them.  The most recent episode included a scene with a genetic counselor saying "We will create many embryos, so that we can increase our odds.  Our hope is to avoid you experiencing this again." Every fiber of my being was screaming, "What about the other babies?!?!  What are you going to to do with ALL of the embryos you create."  I guess while a big part of me totally identifies with that desire to have a child, part of me struggles with the idea of creating babies to destroy babies.  Having had three early losses, the idea of technically "conceiving" babies and then destroying them is incomprehensible to me.  This isn't judgment, so much as deep angst and grief for those little ones who don't survive.  (And maybe the hope that more in the world will share this view someday.  I hate the idea that "embryos" are seen as less than human, yet pregnant dogs seem to be given more protection from violence for their young.)

Life Is Sweet!

That was the inscription on the decorations for the tables, today, at a reception that we attended.  It was also basically the theme of the weekend- truly a celebration of life.  (And my main excuse for not getting to this blog in a few days.  Sorry!)

Yesterday, my husband rode in a ride for the MS Society.  (While I think the connections are morally black, he decides what he wants to do, so ride he does...)  He biked 35-miles, with the option of going farther, however the weather was rainy and we had a birthday party to attend.  Celebration #1 was the ride.  From the MS ride, we drove to the 1st birthday party of our friends' baby daughter. The theme was music. There were nine children between the ages of four and six months.  It was truly a fun time watching all of the children interact and have fun.  The babies were having fun with the other babies and the big kids were having their own fun.  Adults, of course, served as entourage for the children: schlepping, feeding, cleaning, photo taking.  But really, it was a great time for all, and all were perfectly tired following celebration of life numero dos.

Today we awoke and after my son exited School of Religion, Pre-K, we drove to yet another birthday party.  This time, the celebrant turned 2 and the theme was trucks.  Our friends' son had a pretty good time, though he napped through the first half hour as everyone arrived.  He seemed happy to play with all the children, though.  Again, another nine children, not all the same, but similar age range as some of the families did repeat.  It was nice to catch up with the respective families at each celebration. Part of growing up, is meeting new people and the families that helped form them, but the catch is that even if you develop good relationships with the extended family, you really don't see them as often as you would like.  Birthdays are an excellent opportunity to catch up.

Our third celebration ended, and we moved on to celebration number four.  Definitely a more somber celebration than the first three, but just as important.  A dear friend of ours, that we have known for nine years now, was diagnosed with breast cancer almost six months ago.  She endured a double-mastectomy and chemotherapy over the summer, and for now, prognosis seems good.  We attended a beautiful Mass of Thanksgiving, and then the reception that followed.  It was beautiful:  pink everywhere, friends that most of us have not seen in months, and candy/sweets as far as the eye can see.  It was like falling into the cotton candy bin, though the candy was far more varied.  Our friend looked beautiful, regardless of the fact that she had lost her hair and that she had been through so much, she glowed with the promise of future days with friends and family.  It was touching to see her parents there to support her.  I was struck by the fact that they too were once holding their baby girl not knowing what awaited them so many years later.  It made me sad, but gave me hope for them and hope for each of us out there.  We all have our trials and tribulations.  We all have so many, many blessings to be thankful for, but God walks us through each step along the way.  He provides us with so much: comfort, strength, moments of joy.

The priest today gave a beautiful homily discussing the Gospel story: the workers who were paid the same regardless of when they came.  He made a point that I'd never heard when hearing this story before.  The workers that were chosen first were likely the strongest and the most able to give a full days work.  Those chosen later on in the day, were likely the weaker or less healthy or possibly women and children, who also needed a days wages.  The wages in that time were just enough to feed your family and yourself.  So, the master, was making sure that regardless of ability, everyone received what they needed.  He was not trying to gyp the first workers, only ensuring that those who were least able to work could still eat and feed their families.  Father said that we should remember in those times that seem unfair, that God is providing us with what we need and nothing more.  He is making good out of our experiences and helping changes take place that can increase our holiness.

It hit me in that moment.  It truly felt like the priest was talking to me.  Maybe it was the location.  We were married in the same church almost six and a half years ago, and experienced both the miscarriages in that church.  Walking in today, that was on my mind, but after the homily, it occurred to me that maybe it was in some way to lead us to the parish that is now our home.  I'm NOT saying that God caused the miscarriages, but rather that out of the pain, He led us to our current beautiful home.  A place of great growth and great peace, amazing friends and a pastor for whom I never cease to be thankful.  Beautiful things can come out of great sorrow, and yes my friends, life is sweet!

Since it's ilegible: "Alleluia, Salvation, and glory, and honor, and power, unto the Lord Christ Jesus!"

Cleaning continues

We were able to take all of the items that I wanted to donate to the drop-off this weekend.  It felt SO good!  I was tired of looking at all of that STUFF that we no longer used or needed.  What a great way to start a new year.  (I think I've always considered August the start of the year instead of January, thanks to school....but that is a different topic.)

Anywho, today was Clean Out Dear Son's Closet day.  We have noticed that we keep grabbing clothes from his closet that are too small and on our newly growth-spurted child,  (I know, I know, terrible word choice.  What can you do? ha)  the clothes were looking a little shrunken.  Today, he as at school and I decided to use my daughter's nap as a time to sort through and fold all the clothes that are currently residing in his closet when they should be in storage.  I keep nearly all of his outgrown clothes for future children.  And really, I love "girling" up some of this more neutral clothes.  It represents a fun challenge that also leaves my daughter looking cute but not overly girly.  (Pink makes me want to vomit.  But that, too, is a subject for another time.)

Naptime commenced and I tackled that closet like a linebacker on opening day.  The sorting and folding really did not take me too long, and now I have a gorgeous closet that can hold ONLY the clothing that he can wear.  My hope is that if I really use September to knock out all of the organization that has been desperately needed for months, maybe October can be a fun month of crafts for my son and myself.  I plan to make costumes, so I'll need the time and organized house to accomplish that one.  I'm thinking St. Michael the Archangel and a baby angel, this year.

What about you- any big fall projects or checklists?  What are you going to do for Halloween?  (I'll share more about my plans later.  C'mon, it's only mid-September.)

Am I Raising a Monster?

My family was kind of interesting growing up.  My dad was a social worker who always wanted to know how we "felt about that", almost ad nauseum, we felt.  Sometimes, it felt like that question was asked when toast burned. My mom was more of a my way or the highway type.  If you didn't tow the line, punishments were delivered, and they didn't always fit the "crime".  I spent a third of my freshman year grounded for rolling my uniform skirt.

So,  I struggle to raise my kids.  Well, mainly at this point, my son, as my daughter is still an infant not requiring discipline.  My son. I love the boy dearly.  He is my pride and joy.  And agitation and irritation.  He is all that in one.  Raising Your Spirited Child was written about my son.  He is a great kid.  He also has more energy and persistence and intelligence than one adult can manage for too long.  

My husband travels often, so you can imagine where this leaves me.  At moments like today, it means that I secretly relish the timeouts that I have to deliver because it is a BREAK for me.  It sounds terrible, I know.  But, I'm at my wits end. I did not grow up in a spanking family and do not want to become one.  I don't exactly want to repeat the discipline of my childhood, but the methods that I'm trying to learn, leave me floundering to catch up.  I have this constant feeling of not measuring up as a parent, especially since my mother thinks the method is insane. She thinks he gets too many choices and rules the roost. I think that I'm managing as well as I can.  She thinks he is disrespectful because he doesnt' do what she wants the minute she wants him to do it.  

I struggle.  My desire is to use mostly Love and Logic, mixed with "Easy to Love, Difficult to Discipline"  These are excellent methods that work on fostering a good rapport with parents, offering choices, and including consequences, as needed.  I feel that this method most closely resembles what Christ would expect  of parents.  I believe that Our Lord gave us our children because he trusted us to do our best by them.  To me, a gentle method of discipline is that way.  The issue?  My husband who isn't around is having a hard time learning to use it.  My mom who helps out often, cannot figure out how to do it either.  Her way of incorporating the method is to offer "choices" that are merely thinly veiled threats.  (ie. You can either clean the toys or you can go to your room.)  I feel like I'm banging my head against the wall because there is a way that I want to raise my son and it does not include threatening him to do things.  Then, after spending so much time with my mom, I find myself backsliding into do just that.  My goal is to raise our children in a peaceful house that encourages critical thinking and problem solving, not manipulation and threats.  

On the positive side, I feel that he does really handle himself around other adults.  He will listen to them and do as he is asked.  He is very comfortable with them and ready to tell them his thoughts.  I like that he has that confidence, and only hope it is due to the fact that we fostered it at home during day-to-day activities.  The times when my son acts up most are when he is with family.  When he feels most comfortable and loved.  That is a great thing and a hard thing.  All I want is to know that at the end of my parenting journey, I've raised the best children that I can.  Or rather, competent and upstanding members of society.  

What do you think?  Am I choosing the wrong way?  

Prayer to St. Joseph

I found this prayer printed like a card, and laminated in a stack at my church one day.  I loved the sentiment and took one home.  I keep it in my car and read it especially if we are headed on a trip.  But, honestly my favorite part is the exhortation to keep it on your person.  Does on the car visor count?

Oh, St. Joseph, whose protection is so great, so strong, so prompt before the throne of God. I place in you all my interests and desires. Oh, St. Joseph, do assist me by your powerful intercession, and obtain for me from your devine Son all spiritual blessings, throughJesus Christ, our Lord. So that, having engaged here below your heavenly power, I may offer my thanksgiving and homage to the most loving of Fathers. Oh, St. Joseph, I never weary of contemplating you, and Jesusasleep in your arms; I dare not approach while He reposes near your heart. Press Him in my name and kiss His fine head for me and ask him to return the Kiss when I draw my dying breath. St. Joseph, Patron of departing souls - Pray for me. This prayer was found in the fiftienth year of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. In 1505 it was sent from the Pope to Emperor Charles when he was going into battle. Whoever shall read this prayer or hear it or keep it about themselves, shall never die a sudden death, or be drowned, not shall posion take effect of them; neither shall they fall into the hands of the enemy; or shall be burned in any fire, or shall be overpowered in battle. Say for nine mornings for anything you may desire. It has never been known to fail, so be sure you really want what you ask.

 Part of me struggles with whether or not this is superstitious, and the other part of me just says that it is faith in intercession.  Either way, today, after all of the threats and security warnings, I asked my husband if he would please recite the prayer before flying this week.  I just feel a little more peace knowing that St. Joseph will be praying for my husband.  What do you think, superstition or not?  May St. Joseph keep you in his prayers, as well!

Where Were They?

September 11, 2001 also had a great impact on a few friends that we have come to know since that fateful day.  I thought I'd share their stories because they are such a testament to strength and God's invisible hand.

My Son's Godfather

I didn't find out until a few years after we met him, that J's presence in our life was lucky.  He was one of the "survivors" of the World Trade Center building.  Survivor is in quotes only due to the coincidental circumstances of his story.  J worked at Lehman Brothers in the Towers.  On the morning of the attacks, his alarm failed to go off.  He awoke and headed to work, finding out along the way that something had occurred.  Not knowing what was happening, he decided to continue heading in.  When nearly there, in the World Trade Center area, he was suddenly told that they should go to a nearby building as they were not sure what was happening and wanted them to be safe in the perimeter.  Soon after heading that way, and nearly upon arrival at the building, the first tower fell.  He and several others stayed in the building until they were told it was safe to continue on.  When given clearance, J headed on home.  Like many in his situation, he ended up walking all the way home due to the shutdowns of the transportation system.

His family had been placing phone calls.  They lived across the country and were obviously worried about his safety.  His roommates had all but come to terms with the fact that J likely wasn't coming home that day.  That evening, J, covered in white soot, walked into the apartment, and his roommate said he felt like it was seeing a ghost.  Years later at his wife's bridal shower, his mother gave a moving speech about her joy in seeing this day come given what could have been.  I don't think there was a dry eye in the room.  J has been a great godfather and is an upstanding Catholic.  While I'm sure he constantly questions why him and what he is supposed to do now, those of us that know him are thankful for his presence in our lives.

My Dear CRHP Sister

M and her new husband, R, went to New York on their honeymoon.  They were touring the area and had plans to go to Washington D.C. sometime around September 13.  The day the attacks happened, R kept trying to convince her to go to the World Trade Center.  M adamantly refused.  She did not want to be there and really had no interest in seeing the location.  At the time of the attacks, they were in their hotel room and thought that there was an earthquake.  They left their room thinking they needed to be evacuating the building.  Instead, they were told of the events and went back up to their room.

They rode out some time in the room, watching the news and looking out their window to see what they could.  While the plan for the honeymoon had been more extensive and included a trip up the East Coast, they decided to cut their losses and head home.  They rented the last car out of New York and drove nonstop until they reached home many hours later.  M is one of the sweetest and most giving people that I know.  She and her husband are gentle and have a deep faith.  I find that she makes me want to work harder to be a better Catholic.

In recounting these stories, I am consumed with the gratitude for the ability to see God's hand in the lives of the survivors.  I think stories like these allow us to know that even in the midst of great tragedy, God is there and He does still care.  My heart goes out to all those who lost loved ones on this terrible day.  The day likely goes down as the worst day ever for many.  And yet, out of that darkness are tiny beams of light.  Little stirrings to show us that we were not completely abandoned.  I pray that the Lord continues to bring healing to those who were adversely affected by the events of September 11. Prayers, too, extend to those who lost their lives in the aftermath. My heart is with you and yours.

Prayer to Defend Against Terrorism

St. Michael the Archangel Prayer, revised

Prayer to Saint Michael the Archangel

to end terrorism

The family of Saint Eleanor Catholic Church began praying this prayer soon after 9/11/01 to bring an end to terrorism.  Please join us.

Saint Michael the Archangel,

defend us in Battle.

You remained faithful

when others rebelled against God.

Prince of heavenly host,

by the power of God,

help us in our day

as we strive to stem

the rebellion and evil

that are rampant on all sides.

Keep us faithful to our God

as well as to our country

and our fellow human beings.

AMEN

Where Were You?

Given that it's the tenth anniversary of 9-11, I am joining the rest of the media in memorializing the events.  I wanted to go back to the day it occurred and discuss my experience.  Tomorrow, I will go into some experiences of those close to us, people that I did not know until years after the fact.

I was driving to school the morning of September 11, it was time for one of my classes in the business school of my university, and I knew I wanted to get there on time.  While driving, I was listening to the radio, and I did hear them say something about a plane hitting one of the World Trade Center towers, but I mistakenly assumed that it was a little commuter plane that somehow went off course and ran into the building.  Something minor.  It wasn't until later when I was hearing more people talk before classes that I began to realize that something major was happening.  There were "rumors" of a bombing at the Pentagon, and students were mentioning other terrible stories.  As you may remember, September 11 was a mass of confusion in the media for quite awhile until they were able to piece together exactly what happened that day.  It was unknown in the early hours exactly what had happened and why.

Having no idea of what else to do, I continued going about my day.  I attended all of my classes with a greater sense of looming dread.  Classes completed, I drove to my internship and proceeded to put in a day's (afternoon's) work.  The story of the attacks was starting to meld a little more and everyone was getting a better idea of the true nature of the event.  I was told that many of the employees at the company were sitting around tv's in the building but since I was new, and an intern, I just decided to stay at my desk to finish my work.  A sweet broker came in to see if I was okay and to find out how I was feeling.  Having not seen an image yet, I was fairly okay, just a little confused and shaken. I do not remember now if they decided to go ahead and send me home early or if I just arrived home after finishing my day.  What I do remember is that after getting home, I was able to turn on a television and watch with my family.  I lived at home during college to save money, and I think I was pretty grateful for it during this time.  I also remember greatly missing my friends (and boyfriend...no, not my husband) and wishing that they were there to join me, as well.  Finally being able to see the images was soul shaking.  It is one thing to live with an idea of what might be happening in your head, but to see exactly what occurred is something that no one could have imagined.  I sat in front of the television with tears streaming down my face.

That night, my parish hosted a prayer service and all I remember is standing there tightly holding my sister ( who is 4 1/2 years younger than me) and crying my eyes out.  Finally, a cathartic cry to let go of every last bit of stress and fear from the day.  I remember that it made me take everything into consideration and reanalyze my life's direction.  Ultimately, it led to the demise of my relationship with that boyfriend.  It led to my deepening faith.  I needed God so that I could know all was right with the world.  It led to my eventual decision to spend my days home with my future children.  In the grand scheme of things, it became more important to me to do what was right and to place a higher value on the people that were in my life.  For that matter, the terrorist attacks really helped to mold me into a better person.  I was twenty-one and that day made me grow up more quickly than I otherwise might have.  It also brought me to today, and I am never more grateful for my dear husband and children.  They are my light and they are my life.

My heart and prayers are with the citizens of New York and Washington D.C. today and this weekend, especially in light of the new terrorist intelligence.  I pray for peace and protection from Our Lord.  

May Christ keep everyone safe.

Hatred And The Beauty of the 9-11 Cross

I was listening to the Catholic Channel this morning- A Conversation with the Archbishop.  They did a poignant memorial for 9-11, during which, mention of the "9-11 cross" came up.  The priest interviewed told the story of being one of the first to see it in the weeks after it was found.  Out of curiosity, I Googled the cross and came up with the St. Peter 9-11 Cross website that gave the story of the man who found the cross.  What also came up in the search, surprised me.  There was a headline that stated that the American Atheists were challenging the display of the 9-11 Cross on grounds that it was unfair/prejudicial against other religions.  Seriously.

Let's discuss this. And let's not only remember that this cross was not forged out of some reclaimed beams following the recovery effort, but was literally found as is, during the search for victims.  We'll try to remember too, that this is meant only as a memorial, not a shrine.  This is not suddenly, Our Lady of the Americas shrine, or some other devotion to our faith.  This is a cross that brought great consolation and peace to the citizens of New York as they put the pieces of their life back together in the days following September 11, 2001.  (Or Sept. 13, when the cross was found.)  This is a cross that was found in the wreckage and determined to be a symbol of the people who perished in the terrorist attacks, and of those who survived and forged ahead to create a new identity.

This historical artifact is a beautiful testament to God's unfailing presence in our lives. It represents that much, and more.  Dr. Edward Sri, in A Biblical Walk Through the Mass,  stated that "...the cross, we are invoking God's protection for our lives.  In the sign of the cross, we ask Him to protect us from all harm and evil."  While Sri used this to explain the deep symbolism in the "sign of the cross", I feel that the 9-11 cross  itself (or any physical cross for that matter) also contains this rich meaning.  Likely, this extends to the serenity that it brought to those who were most deeply effected in 9-11.

It also was a symbol of strength and comfort for the New Yorkers who trudged on post-9-11.  Regardless of their religious affiliation, this cross came to represent the solidarity of the citizens in the aftermath.  If God can be found in the wreckage, then peace can come out of the experience.  We will prevail and we will be stronger on the other side.  That is the message of the 9-11 cross.  And I cannot help but wonder if the ultimate reason that this group is protesting lies not in the fact that it is "unfair to non-Christians" but more that fact that deep-down, they recognize the vast power of The Cross and fear its effects.

God's Great Bounty

We met my dad at a farmer's market in town today.  There were such beautiful displays, that I couldn't help myself.  I wanted to take more, but I didn't want to be the crazy lady taking pictures and not really buying.  Though, I did get some great potatoes to bring home and add to some heirloom tomatoes, flowers, figs and watermelon that I'd purchased previously.  Some are a little blown out.  Bear with me.  I'm still learning with my new camera.  (And hope to get photoshop one of these days.)

Beautiful squash but blown-out.  The hazards of taking a picture with sunglasses on.  Lesson learned.

I'm so bummed.  This just doesn't capture the beauty of this picture thanks to the blow-out.

Pretty sure that the vendor thought I was a little nuts, but I loved her little chalkboard signs and the  gorgeous produce on her table.  I was very tempted to take a shot of her multi-color peppers but didn't want to push my luck.  I look forward to eating my potatoes, which you could see if the picture was darker.  But I digress....and dwell.

My son decided to dismantle the stack in the back soon after I took this.  It consisted of me running like mad to put it all back together- without knocking the camera around.

Bonus post!!!!!

You may have noticed that I tend to use the exclamation point often.  All I can tell you is that I'm working on it. And, I come by it honestly.

I've always thought the the exclamation point looked so cheerful, as though it were just a way of smiling at the end of your sentence (pre-emoticon).  It looked to me like a great way to show enthusiasm and to express how much I enjoy life.  And apparently I have felt this way for a long time.  A couple of years back, I ran into my student teacher from second grade.  This in itself isn't so surprising, as she worked in the same school I attended , and my mother worked there, as well.  However, she came up to me to mention that in the process of going through some old papers, she came across a page that I had turned in to her during class one day.  Signed in the upper corner on the Name line was:

Melanie Ascota!*

*Name changed to protect the innocent!  heehee

Throwing It All Off!

How I dream my house might look *someday*!

I am finally getting a chance to get some organizing done, and I'm hitting it full force!  To understand how big this is for me, you need to understand my life and what it has been like for the past few years:

• Dec. 2005- Pregnant, then miscarry in January 2006
• June 2006- Pregnant and miscarry in August of 2006
• August-December 2006- Healing and trying to get back on track
• March 2007- Find out I am pregnant again
• November 2007- Dear Son born!
• March 2008- Put house on market
• July 2008-Move
• July 2008- October 2009- Start to get things organized and in place
• October 2009- Pregnant and miscarry December 2009
• March 2010- Pregnant again
• November 2010- Dear Daughter born!
• August 2011- Hernia surgery
• September 2011- Healing

I tell you this so that you can see how momentous it feels to me to finally start getting the house in order again. It kind of fell to pieces after October 2009, and truly, I can't even claim that we were getting there before then. Just as we were starting to put everything away, something else would  come up.  My husband had been going to grad school ever since we have been married, and finally graduated last December.  He also travels. A LOT.  This means that there was quite a bit on me, and little time to do it with a small child(ren).  Things pretty much kept getting moved around.  They'd go to the office, then the basement, then a closet.  We would put aside items for charity donations, but never get a chance to itemize. So, they would sit there, waiting for us to do something.  I found just piles, every time I turned around, another bag would jump out at me.

Finally, I am getting a chance to clear out some clutter.  I feel like it is insane how much we have right now- so much that can go to charity, but we haven't had a chance to do so.  My hope is that after itemizing everything today, we can deliver it all later this week.  It will be a load off to get rid of the STUFF! Do you have an issue like this?  I feel so blessed, I just think we amass things that our family has outgrown, and things that people give us that really do not get used, so quickly!  We don't live in "America's Messiest House," by any means, but I really feel like we could have a better system.  A better way to keep our things organized and to care for them. Now, I just need to determine how to weed some of those extras out.

This weekend, I focused on paperwork and random items that we falling by the wayside upstairs.  I have yet to come up with the perfect system that will work for my whole family...or more importantly, my husband and myself.  But, I will keep trying.  One of these days, it will all click, and then perhaps we will finally run like a well-oiled machine.  Although, is that even possible in a home with small children?  I'll just settle for good enough, I guess! :)

This is a start, though.  We are making progress!

((My hope is that I can report back to you in a few weeks with even more progress on my organization, but baby steps!))

Mmmm....!

Taken from Google images

I've mentioned before my love of "crepes" and today I created some delicious faux crepes, as a snack.  Yum!  I thought I would share them here because they are easy and taste so great!

All you need are a few ingredients.  I have two versions...what can I say, I was hungry!  Ha.

Ginger Peach "Crepe"

• 1/2 cup Frozen peaches (Organic is best, in my humble opinion.  365 organic!)
• 1 tsp. salted butter (My FAV is Kerrygold Spreadable.  Butter from grass-fed cows!  Is there anything better?)
• Whole wheat tortilla (I love either Whole Foods' or Trader Joe's whole wheat tortillas.  No trans fats.)
• 1/2 tsp. sugar
• Sprinkle of ground ginger

Precook the peaches for about 3 minutes in the microwave.  While the peaches cook, spread the tortillas with butter, then sprinkle with sugar and ginger.  Put peaches, minus the accumulated juice on the tortilla.  Microwave for 30 seconds.  Remove and fold into quarters.  Enjoy!!!! Oh, and it will be messy, but so worth it!

Cinnamon "Toast" "crepe"  (Could there be more quotes in a title?)

• Whole wheat tortilla
• 1 tsp. butter 
• 1/2 tsp. sugar
• Sprinkle of cinnamon

Spread tortilla with butter, and sprinkle with sugar and cinnamon.  Microwave for 30 seconds, fold and try not to spill the melted butter on yourself while you scarf it down. 

Hope you enjoy these recipes.  I sure did!  (Can't wait to share them with the napping kiddos someday.)

By the way, I enjoy mine with hot tea.  I love the stuff and my favorite is Republic of China either Red Tea or Raw Bush Tea, different flavors! :)

First Day of Preschool: Mommy Fail

Today was my son's first day of preschool!  *tear* It's hard to believe that he is that big already.  It was also a bit of a comedy of errors today.  The route I used to take to drop him off at Parent's Day Out (same building) was closed, unbeknownst to me.  So our decent time frame was killed by the detour.  We got a couple of great pictures and proceeded to his classroom, where the teacher was so intent on getting me to sign the pickup/dropoff form that I didn't get to hug him goodbye.  Well, he's used to the "school" building already, so he was ready to get going and didn't seem too upset.  I was probably more upset that I didn't get to give a hug on his very first day.

My daughter and I headed off to a nearby mall to kill time until pickup.  The school is far enough away that I don't feel like I can head home and have time to accomplish anything.  After spending some time together, I decided to look up the website to double check on pick up times.  I had two times stuck in my head and could not figure out which one was correct.  I check the website, and although it said Preschool-4s, I assumed times would be similar.  Big mistake!  Never assume...you know the rest.  So, the website said 11:25 and while 11:15 was also in my head, I just assumed that I had it right.  I pick up some cupcakes as a first day treat for his teachers and head to pick him up.

"Huh!  The parking lot looks kind of sparse! Surely more parents should be picking up!?!"  I unload my daughter, head in, and turning the corner, walk smack into my son and his teacher.  Uh, yeah.  Pickup was 11:15.  He looks concerned but runs past me because they had been headed to look at the fish tank.  After a quick apologetic talk with my teacher, I head back to see my son.  He is staring at the fish tank, but looks seriously deflated.  MOMMY FAIL!  I know it isnt' the end of the world, I just don't want his first day of school, ever to have such a negative memory.  I had all kinds of great ideas to make it special.  I'd gotten him a treat of a cookie at the bakery, and also some watercolor pencils to use at home. I was in a great mood and planning to take him out to lunch.  But, for quite awhile, a big fat cloud hung over us.  I tried talking to him but he was just upset.  He didn't want to tell me about his day.

We did lunch anyway, and slowly I was able to pry out a few different details.  Mostly, he didn't want to share.  It was not how I'd imagined: Showing up and giving him a huge hug, letting him give his teachers their treats, taking him to lunch while he bubbled over with stories for me.  Well, I do have big plans for dinner.  I'm making his favorite: spaghetti, and then he will get his special treat to celebrate.  Hopefully, it will make up for it all, and if not, I guess there is always next Tuesday.  I will be on time on both sides of the school day this time.  I've learned my lesson!