Rabbit Trails

This past week we took a break from homeschooling. I homeschool all year round, for a few reasons. I like the continuity - long breaks in the summer mean we have to review for the first month back or so and that's just a waste of time. It also allows us to take more frequent breaks throughout the year. A couple of us are sick - no big deal, let's break out some movies. At this point we homeschool for a couple hours in the morning. There's no stress over making sure we hit a certain number of days or making time for field trips and playdates. And lots and lots of outdoor play makes for happy kids.

                                               

                   
Sometimes we're running full tilt, blazing down this path of learning. Latin, history, science, math - we're right on target. Other times we take rabbit trails and see where they go. I love the full tilt, feel like we're productive, checking things off a list time. And I love the rabbit trails. No schedule, no plan. Children are innately curious. Sometimes it sticks with us as adults - the wonderers of society, the group that asks "what if?" Sometimes it dies out as we age or gets squashed when no one has time to figure out the answers. I want to have time to answer these questions together, to not rush around trying to become so educated that we miss learning all these beautiful things.

This past week the kids spent a lot of time outside, happily climbing trees and playing cops and digging. We went to Legoland for a day as a family and went about our usual routine of homeschool PE at the Y and dance lessons. Jack took a day and figured out which direction the world turns based on the sun's position. Kate spent hours and hours thumbing through my books, deciphering words. For no other reason than that they wanted to. Sometimes the rabbit trails are richer than the actual path.

A little bit of our jaunt down the rabbit trails:

CERN Now Certain It Has Discovered the Higgs Boson - Forbes

    We're almost positive we have. Definitely an absolute just about found it.

How Home Schooling Threatens Monopoly Education - USA today

     Not sure the numbers are big enough to threaten. But it should make the powers that be take notice. The money should follow the kid, not the other way around. As always, almost everything in life comes down to money, regardless of our ideals.

How "Fast" is the Speed of Light? - NASA

     Spinning off a discussion on how fast we would get to Legoland going at the speed of light. Check out the  wealth of stuff on the left side of the page.

Phil Robertson - Deciding to Follow Jesus

      One of the guys from Duck Dynasty. Simple, amazing testimony.

    Reading this aloud to the kids. One of my favorite childhood memories is of my older sister reading this
to me and my younger sister in the evenings. The Grand High Witch has a sort of Transylvanian accent and my sister doing the voice was the best part. My kids today get a kick out of it too and walk around saying "You may rrrremove your vigs."

Lots of morning spent giggling on the couch, all four of us snuggled under a blanket, perfecting our accents.

We run the path, we meander the trails and oh what lovely things we find all along the way.





               

Adoption Update

Oh my goodness you guys. We haven't actually even adopted yet. And yet the amount of ridiculous that's happening right now is...well...um, ridiculous.

The dossier got to my agency today. Warm, fuzzy, happy feelings. My caseworker sent an email saying that everything is in order and she just needs these three little things to get the dossier to China: passport photos (got 'em), photos of family with captions (no problem), and a copy of my and Matt's passport signature page (good feeling's gone). I remember, oh, 8 months ago or so, looking at the dossier checklist from the agency. I vaguely remember the word' passport' on the checklist. The word 'photos' is what stands out. Got the photos.  I got tiny little photos of our heads! Fantastic feeling of accomplishment! My brain filed away passport things until, oh, I don't know, maybe sometime in the spring.

Surprisingly, this system of arbitrarily cataloging dates in my brain has failed.

After I found out, I had to take a break before I called the caseworker and told her about me being a moron. Again. I hate calling the agency, even though it's their job to help us and, well, we're paying them. Even though I really like my agency and they're always very kind, I always imagine the eye-rolling when I call and say things like "Hi, it's Jess again. How are you? I'm sure you're still ok since I called five minutes ago and asked you the same question. At least I hope you're still ok. You sound fine. Anyhoo, just wanted to make sure that I sign my name where it says signature. Should I add my middle initial or it that too fancy?"

I don't envy them their jobs.

Today is my grocery shopping day so while the kids were at their homeschool PE class, I went to the store and contemplated my situation. What happened to Noah while we were at Wal-Mart? That's right, he had diarrhea. I'm not sure what it is about that store. The deli, perhaps?

What I really wanted to have tonight was a glass of wine and some chocolate. But I didn't get anything. Tomorrow morning, when Jillian Michaels says I'm doing a great job, I'm going to believe her.

So our adoption is pushed back again. Our passports were issued as teenagers and have since expired. So now we've got to hurry in and get these passports done and then sit and wait for them. 4-6 weeks, probably.

Our caseworker laughed with me and stated that she really believes that everything happens for a reason. Perhaps our little girl is just not quite "paper ready" yet.

Or perhaps I'm just a total doof.

The View From the Top

A couple weeks ago I was talking to a coworker of mine at work (peers sound like schoolchildren: colleagues sound like professors). Which makes me realize that I apparently have a profound issue with people-related terms. Anyway, this particular person is highly educated and I enjoy having conversations with him about education and healthcare. He had heard that we were adopting and began to ask me questions. It's always a tough line to walk with personal issues like this. I could talk about how God called us to adoption and how we want to love the way He loves and that we want our kids to be passionate about caring for the hurting and so on. But that doesn't translate well to some conversations. People's eyes tend to glaze over a bit, depending on their beliefs.

Some people are just plain against adoption and are at best confused why we would be doing this. Right off the bat, I could tell this would be one such conversation. The raising of the eyebrows, the slightly patronizing smile - the kind you would give a child who told you he had a million dollars or some such absurdity. This coworker told me that when he sees the commercials of starving kids in Africa, he thinks about how the economy couldn't possibly support all those kids. The world doesn't have enough resources. These circumstances, difficult and sad as they are, are just nature's way of controlling the population.

In theory, I agree with him. Plague, famine, flood, war - population control. Making sure things don't get unbalanced, sure.

But you know what? It's pretty easy to say that when we're warm and safe and fed. There we were, two people in a first world nation. Educated, gainfully employed. Sipping tea and discussing Plato's Allegory of the Cave. And discussing the injustice of the world in economy textbook terms.

All the while, a 7 year old in India was prostituting herself at the behest of a trusted adult.

A pair of young siblings combed through a Thai landfill to live off of other people's trash.

A Romanian boy with Down Syndrome has been heavily sedated for most of his life and is wiling away a sad existence in a government asylum.

What would they say about population control and survival of the fittest?

I hope it always breaks my heart. I hope my voice always catches in my throat when I talk about adoption and orphans and God's redemption story for all of us. I hope I don't get so comfortable in my middle class American life that I can't see the suffering that continually lies low, right on the horizon.

This same person made a comment on how I was so unbearably kind and caring and sacrificial that he could hardly stand it.

I don't feel kind or caring or sacrificial.

But I'm following a God who is. And He is leading us on this amazing journey where we stop thinking about ourselves all the time.

One little tiny slice of the population at a time.

The Best Biscuits You Will Ever Eat

I'm going to deviate from my usual repertoire of adoption updates and my moronic living to share with you some recipes that I love.

This particular biscuit recipe has been circulating the internet for some time. I just found it though so it's all new and exciting.

It's a well known fact that I can't make biscuits. They continually befuddle me. I've tried various ingredients and techniques but they always turn out flat and weird. Matt loves baked goods and I've gotten pretty awesome at making bread and pies but wanted to make biscuits that were light and fluffy and filled with love. And I've always failed. Until now.

I made them last night and after Matt took a bite he said "Are there any more?" I said "Yes, one." He immediately said "I call it. It's mine."

Then today he texted that he might be late tonight from work. I told him I was making the biscuits and baked eggplant. He left within minutes.

They're that good.

I don't know the original baker of these biscuits but the recipe I followed is listed here.

7 Up Biscuits

2 cups Bisquick
1/2 cup sour cream
1/2 cup 7 up

I know, I know. Weird and unhealthy. But that's life sometimes.

This recipe is good but here is where it gets really ultra special.

Make your own Bisquick (or baking mix if you're generic). Use White Lily Flour and get the self-rising kind. If you're fortunate to live in the south, then you're probably familiar with this type of flour. It's made with soft winter wheat and it's the best flour ever for pancakes and biscuits and stuff. Make your own baking mix with a 5:1 ratio of flour and shortening.

So...5 cups White Lily Self-Rising Flour
       1 cup all-vegetable shortening.

Or 10:2 if you're mathematically gifted. 15:3...I could go on. I did just recently pass statistics.

If you have a Kitchenaid and it's beautiful and shiny like mine, use that big metal whisk thing to mix this together.

Get yourself a cast iron skillet. Really. I recently acquired mine from a friend who didn't realize how lovely and expensive these skillets are and gave them away with a wave of his hand. I shore am happy with them.
Cast iron skillets just add so much depth to dishes.

Anyway, throw a pat of butter in your skillet and put that in the oven about 5 min before the oven is ready so the butter melts. Mix your baking mix with the sour cream and 7 up. Put some flour on your palms and shape the balls of dough like hamburger patties. Sure, you can cut them with a biscuit cutter but then you've got to clean the counter. And you don't really want to do that, do you?

Make sure you put some flour on your hands. It's a really soft, sticky dough. Take your skillet out when the oven is ready and your butter is melted. Swivel the pan a bit to distribute the butter.

Bake at 450 for 12-15 min.

Get ready to be adored by everyone.

I served this alongside Baked Eggplant - recipe here.

1 eggplant, sliced
Mayo
Diced onion
Spices
Breadcrumbs
Panko
Parm Cheese

Chop the onion, mix with mayo. Coat the eggplant slices with this mixture. Coat with mixture of breadcrumbs, panko crumbs, parm cheese, and Italian Spices (I had basil and parsley. Italian? I don't know. All I had on hand? Yes).

Update: I forgot to mention in the original post that I added panko crumbs to this recipe. A mix of panko and regular gives it a nice crunch. Also, the recipe calls for no-fat mayo. Which is an oxymoron. Update over.

It's messy, so it's good to have a helper.

Bake at 425 for 12 min. Flip and bake for another 12. I actually just baked the biscuits at that temp and added a few extra minutes.

These biscuits with that eggplant? My goodness. It's happiness and joy all around.

It's like exercise, only worse

People exercise for many reasons and I always want to exercise for good reasons. But sadly, that's not really the case. Do I exercise to live longer? No. Do I exercise to prevent heart disease and diabetes? Nope. Do I hope to be a good role model for my kids? Eh.

I exercise because we have a pool. And live in Florida. And basically live in swimsuits all summer. I'd really like to walk by a mirror in a swimsuit and not think for a second "When did we get a funhouse mirror?"

So my husband's company reimburses for some exercise equipment and I thought I'd give a new Jillian Michaels program a try. I've been working out 6/days a week for the past two weeks.

I know. I'm pretty much amazing.

Ideally I'd get up early and work out before Noah gets up, around 7. That's happened once I think. Between staying up late to finish homework and trudging to Noah's room to pop back in his pacifier at 1 am, the early rising is not going so well these days.

Jack and Kate like to join in too. Which is fine, except they'll talk during the workout like this:

"Why aren't you kicking as high as them?"

"Look at me, look at me, look at me!"

"Why aren't you jumping higher?"

"Why isn't Pluto a planet anymore?"

You can see how this would be difficult.

If Noah is awake, it's pretty much a nightmare. He suddenly decides he loves me and wants to be as close to me as possible.

Jillian will say "Down to the mat for push-ups (and here Noah lays on my back, arms wrapped around my neck)."

"Grab your heaviest weights for biceps curls (he'll either scream and cry to be held or run and grab the weights for him to use)."

"Down to the mat for sit-ups (no problem)."

And she'll tell me things like "Don't tell yourself this is hard, this is easy. This is easy for you."

No, Jillian. It actually is quite hard.

Or when she says at the cool down part "This is your time. It's all about you right now."

Sure doesn't seem like it sometimes.

Random Ramblings

It's becoming more and more evident that my life is basically just a bunch of random ramblings strung together....


Bookstore

Matt and I went to P.F. Chang's the other night (with a very lovely Christmas giftcard). It's located in a large upscale shopping center. After dinner, I told Matt that I wanted to go to Barnes and Noble, as we also had a giftcard to that as well. At the first mention of a bookstore, Matt made apoplexy sounds and looked like he was suffering from a massive internal hemorrhage. Basically, the usual response.

He told me in no uncertain terms that he did not want to go. So he went home to start a fire and get some wine chilled (date night!) and I headed to the store.

Going to a bookstore for me is how I imagine cocaine is to addicts. There's an immediate feeling of euphoria. Stress and worry fade away and only the crisp scent of unfamiliar storylines linger. I run my hands over shiny hardbacks and velvety paperbacks. It's good stuff.

Ahem, back to the story. So I was enjoying my time alone, no kids to chase, no husband to make disparaging remarks about the time. I decided to get a book about adoption. Not seeing any, I asked an employee to help. He walked over with me to the parenting section and after a few minutes of fruitless searching remarked "It's too bad you don't need a book on autism." Um, yes, it is.

A few minutes after I left, Matt called. Wondering where I was, which I had expected.

Me: "I was only in there an hour, hour and a half, tops. I tried really hard to leave early."

Matt: "I don't think you did a very good job."

Not bad for $25

Irrational Fears

Let me preface this ramble by saying I'm a channel changer. If my kids are in the car, it pretty much stays on the local Christian station or a cd and I'm ok with that. But if I'm alone, I flip channels like I'm getting paid by the song. Nary a song is allowed to finish before I'm hitting that button. It's a trait I inherited from my Dad and it was the cause of many a rift on long family car rides.

That being said, I'm afraid of being in a car accident. Not the actual accident part, nor the pain or possible dying. I'm afraid that the song on the radio will be a ridiculous one when EMS arrives. I cringe thinking of a couple of paramedics trying to extricate my broken body from the vehicle saying "She listens to Phil Collins?"

I could have gotten into a crash listening to a great song, 'Bohemian Rhapsody' or 'Walking in Memphis.' But by the time emergency services arrive, the radio could be playing something by Meatloaf or Ke$ha.

(Side note: The first I heard of Ke$ha - that money sign is absurd, no? - Matt and I were watching an episode of SNL on Hulu. I remember being perplexed at first, wondering why this person was performing. I can't find a good version of it on Youtube, which is just as well. From what I recall, she was painted in neon glowing colors like a stereotypical Native American. And she was hopping about like she had a neurological disorder. I finally concluded that it must be a candidate for the Make a Wish Foundation and how nice SNL was to make her dream come true.)

So if we're even in a crash together and I'm unconscious and you're not, please make sure there are decent songs on the radio at all times. Thank you.

Iphones

The other day I was thumbing through a Wall Street Journal that Matt brought home from work. I read an article about iphones and how, even though it is still the most popular brand of smart phone, other brands are much stronger than originally predicted. Analysts were interviewed stating that everyone thought Apple would crush the market on smart phones but that's not the case. It went on to detail how Apple is trying to market each new phone as an upgrade people want to make. The problem is that many people are settling on an earlier, cheaper version of the iphone and don't consider the newest model to be worth the price. Then I flipped the page over:

Nice try, Apple

House Cleaning

Anyone who knows me and has been to my house can attest to the fact that I am not that clean. Now, mind you, it's not like an episode of Hoarders or anything. I can still see the children and most of the floor so I think I'm doing pretty darn well. Now, mothers-in-law are notorious for being hard on their daughters-in-law but I am the exception. I happen to enjoy mine quite a bit and she seems to tolerate me pretty well too. The issue is that she's a fabulously clean person. If you are talking to her, she will pick up a washcloth and start wiping down the counters, just because. If you are talking to me, I will sit down next to you and we will eat popcorn together. The counters will not even enter my teeny little ol' brain once.

Early in our marriage, Matt would make remarks like "You know, my mom used to clean the kitchen floors on her hands and knees." To which I would respond with something like:

"My dad washes all the dishes in our house and brings my mother drinks and bowls of ice cream."

Or

"I'll be glad to bring you a sponge."

Or

"So move back in. Then your laundry would be done correctly again too. I hope the three of you will be very happy."

He doesn't say things like that anymore.

Whenever someone comes over, I feel the compulsion to apologize for the state of my house. Sometimes it actually is atrocious and there are just no words. Sometimes though, I say things like "Sorry it's such a mess in here" when I know darn well that it's actually clean. That way if they are a really tidy person, they might think "Oh thank goodness. They have all recently gotten over the bubonic plague and were too weak to mop. Whew, makes sense now." Or if they are not clean people, they might admire the fact that I find my seemingly acceptable house to be awful and come to the conclusion that I have really high standards.

Just covering my bases over here. Now I'd best get back to scouring these baseboards.

The Theater, The Theater

The women in my immediate family have a lovely tradition. Every year my grandma from Indiana spends a few months at my parents during the winter. And while she's down, we pick a few shows to see in Jacksonville. We've seen Fiddler on the Roof (with the original Tevye! The hip shaking wasn't quite what it used to be but still, he's a spunky old guy), South Pacific, Les Mis, and a few others. We always go out for a bite at one of the restaurants in the lovely Jacksonville Landing on the river.

This year the littlest women were old enough to come along. Kate is five and my niece is four and it was great fun to see Mary Poppins with everyone.

Checking out the orchestra pit

These are our "Matchmaker, Matchmaker" faces. Um, yeah.