A Sad Few Weeks

Trouble...trials...hardships...Whatever you call them, we've had our fair share over the past couple of months.  Seems that these bumps in the road come to us in clusters.  I suppose that when I got the call that my Great Grandfather was dying, it was expected.  He hadn't been in very good health in quite a while, so I wasn't very surprised when the news came.  This isn't to say that I wasn't very sad.  I truly love that man.  He was tall...a sky scraper of a man, to me.  I was always a little runt of a kid and it seemed he could touch the moon, if he wanted.  And funny...man, he was funny.  He always did this crazy smile with his big ole set of horse teeth (all his own, mind you, in his upper 90's).  It was meant to be hilarious and silly, and it was.  He was a man who was proud of his heritage.  Proud of the Native American blood that we shared.  He worked hard for a living and always took care of everything he owned.  I guess these things made it hard for me to see him, in the end.  He nearly died once before, years ago.  I remember walking in to his hospital room and seeing that great big man...that sweet, tall, giant of a man, curled up in the fetal position like a tiny, fragile baby.  My heart broke right into.  I remember nothing more than the tubes running out of his back, draining the bloody fluid from his lungs.  I left and cried in the hallway of the hospital.  I hate death, that way.  I thought for sure he would die then, so when he recovered, of course I was happy.  But this time, I couldn't go through it, again.  Selfish me, I couldn't go see him this time.  I couldn't see my strong Papa curled up, sick, tired, and ready for home.  I just stayed away and remembered him the way I wanted.

Second death was much less expected and I still haven't looked it in the eye.  I was doing something around the house when my husband walked back in from work, ten minutes after he'd left!  He gave me his phone to use for the day (I had lost mine, for the millionth time) and said that my Mom called to tell me that my Aunt was found unconscious at her home and it didn't look good.  "What?!" I said, cried, the word...I felt the tears coming.  What did he mean?  He meant it didn't look good.  And it didn't.  My Aunt was pronounced dead about 20 minutes later.  Gone.  Selfish me.  I told her I'd mail her those photos of Ty...I promised I'd send them to her and the only thing I did was forward her a photo of him on her phone.  I didn't want to mail the real pictures in just any envelope.  I wanted to buy the kind that wouldn't bend them up in the mail.  I didn't get around to it and she never got her pictures.  She must've thought I had forgotten her...as if my life was so busy I didn't have time to mail a couple of photographs.  My heart broke in half...again.  Not only the photo thing, but Saturday night (before she passed on Tuesday), my husband and myself were invited to dinner at my Grandma's house.  We didn't go.  We opted to go on our anniversary date and send Ty with my parents to my Grandma's...My aunt was there.  I should've been there...

My Aunt was a talker.  Ask anyone who knew her and they'd tell you that.  My Dad can talk the "horns off a billy goat", but Vickie could out talk him any day.  She was kind, but straight.  I remember that we always called her Sergeant Carter, because she would make us walk the line.  She was always, always, always smiling.  She looked just like my Dad, for the world.  They could've been twins.  She knew Jesus and she shared his love with everyone she met.  She had a way of letting her kindness rub of on others and I'll never forget that.  What an inspiration.

We can't change it.  We can't go back.  Death is hard.  It gets more frequent as we grow up.  It hurts.  It breaks us down, but it also teaches us.  I know where my Grandfather is...I know where my Aunt is.  They are rejoicing and praising the Son.  I am so happy to have that assurance.  I miss them.  I love them, but I am comforted.  Death teaches us to enjoy the time we have.  Enjoy the people we love.  Minister to others.  Give our time, effort, talent, money...It won't last!

"The fear of death follows from the fear of life.  A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time."
-Mark Twain

YOU are going to make something delicious!

I am going to tell you how to make your own breadcrumbs.  You can use them for many dishes.  I'll be the first to admit that I neither chef nor cook.  I just know how to follow directions, fairly well.  It's usually hit or miss.  This process, however, is always a hit.  

I will normally only need a small amount, because I only have to really cook for two adults.  I save the end pieces from a loaf of bread and all the crumbs from inside the bag.  I prefer Food for Life bread  http://www.foodforlife.com/product-catalog/ezekiel-49/breads , so that's what I use for my crumbs.  You may use ANY type you like.  If you wanted to use hamburger buns, you could...anything works.  Dump these into the chopper.  I recommend breaking the bread up into small pieces, first.  

Chop the bread until it becomes very fine "crumbs".  

                           

Dump the crumbs onto a foil lined cookie sheet.  Be sure the crumbs are spread out so that they will toast completely.  

Bake in a preheated 250° oven for 5 minutes, stir, and continue to bake for additional 5 minutes.  Now, if you are baking dense or moist breads, then you may need to bake a little longer.  The trick is taking the pan out every so often and stirring the crumbs.  If they feel coarse and crunchy, they are ready.  If they are still soft and spongy, then they need to stay in a little longer.  Remember, stirring is important so that they bake evenly and don't burn.  

Once your breadcrumbs are finished, let them cool.  Then, you may add any spices you like.  Some ideas:  Jane's Krazy Mixed Up Salt, Parmesan Cheese, Garlic Powder, and Parsley Flakes, Italian Seasoning.  The ratios will depend on your taste! 

Until you're ready to cook, store your crumbs in the fridge or freezer!

To actually use the breadcrumbs, I recommend dipping chicken breasts in melted butter (I use about 1/4 C Smart Balance).  Then, roll them in the breadcrumbs.  Place meat on foil lined pan that has been sprayed with PAM.  Sprinkle any remaining crumbs over meat and pour any remaining butter over, as well.  Bake uncovered at 350 °  for an hour or until the juices run clear.    

I used the same recipe for flounder fillets, last night, and it was super good.  Just cut baking time to 10 minutes and bump temp up to 450° !

Oooooh, Mama!  It's some good eatin'!

Yes. I'm that mom.

Yes.  I’m that mom.  The overprotective, anal, routine oriented, when things don’t go my way I lose it mom.  Well, half of me, at least.  The other half of me is laid back, fun, “no, you don’t have to wear shoes outside”, forgets to shower mom.

I have found that somewhere in the middle is the person I’d like to be.  Although I struggle daily to become a better mom, person, wife, daughter, etc…I just fall short.  I look around at friends who juggle three kids and a job, yet still have time to create the perfect meal in their spotless kitchen.  That’s not reality, right?   In plays my love/hate relationship with social networking sites.  I find myself constantly comparing and contrasting my life with those of acquaintances online.  (Quite unhealthy and a complete waste of energy.)

I have a loving, wonderful husband.  I know that he loves me, truly, and I him.  My son is my other true love.  He is a pistol.  He has my temper, and my husband’s determination.  A perfect blend of both of us, he has brought absolute joy into our hearts.  But babies are frustrating, tricky little rascals.  They change, almost daily.  They evolve and develop at a rate that simply blows my mind.  I assume I just didn’t realize how much I would need to mesh the two halves of my personality in order to make life work.  I am still working at that, constantly.  When things go according to plan, I’m so happy.  I’m relaxed.  I can get so much accomplished.  However, when things go awry, that really throws me for a loop.

I wish I were more like my mom, who always says, “you worry too much…just relax!”.  I would LOVE to just relax.  I wish I had a dial to up or down the “relax” to meet every situation I face.  And I’ll admit, I do not lose it over legitimately horrible things.  I am surely the most optimistic when things are at their worst.  But if my son misses a nap, heaven help us, the sky is falling.

Why, oh why do I fret over silly things like napping or eating?  Is this normal?  I’m not sure, what is normal?  I believe I respond this way because in the moment, I can’t see the light.  I can’t see the end and I think, “oh, no!  This is how life shall be, forevermore!”  Ever the dramatic, huh?  I am so thankful for wise friends who lend their ear for a bit of chewing.  I love to hear responses from moms who don’t have it all together.  The ones just like me.  These pals say exactly what I already know, but coming from someone else, it’s like salve on a wound.  I also know that spending time in the Word is another way to find wisdom, comfort, and a little bit of hard lovin’ that tells me to put my big girl panties on and be the mom my son needs.  

So, this blog is just a little vent/therapeutic writing and I hope that I can daily grow into the person I wish to be, while being content in the knowledge that God made me specifically equipped to care for my child and family (thanks to a wise friend for that nugget of reason).