The Weird Kid

Jackson and I were grocery shopping today. Just the two of us, two birds of a feather. His job was holding the shopping list, and mine was pushing the cart. He really enjoys being in charge of the list, he controls where we go and what goes in the cart. Well, that is unless Mommy puts things on the list in the wrong order or remembers something that isn't on the list. Then he jokingly scolds, "Mommy?!" and either draws arrows to where the item should have been on the list or writes in the missing item just so he can cross it off.

Did I mention he also gets to hold the pen? He loves crossing things off. In fact, I think he might like that as much as his mommy, who may or may not put some things on lists that don't really need to be there just so she can cross them off and feel like she's accomplishing more than she really is. Yeah, see, thats what I mean by birds of a feather. That's my boy, y'all! Same wavelength.

Anyway, we're walking along, and he crosses off the wrong item on the list. He stops and says, "Oh, I'm dumb." He explains, and I reply, "You're not dumb. You know I don't like using that word when we're talking about people. You made a mistake. Mommy's made ten of those since we walked in the store." His reply, "Yeah, but I'm the weird kid.

[Pause for effect]

Cue the rising of my internal mama bear. Who told my baby he's weird? Who? I'll show them 'weird' and several other more colorful adjectives. Just le'me at um.

[A few seconds to process]

Cue the over explaining lesson giver that wants to stop him right there in front of God and everybody and talk about how 'weird' is what people say when someone is different than everyone else, different from them in a way that they don't understand. But, being just like everyone else means you're hiding who you really are. Who wants to be 'normal'? 'Normal' people don't find cures for deadly diseases or write novels people still read and talk about centuries after they're dead. 'Normal' people don't paint ceilings in cathedrals or write music that calms the mind. 'Normal' people don't deliver life saving medicine, healthy food or clean water to the forgotten people on our planet. 'Normal' people don't change the world. They don't even make a ripple in the lives around them. They live and die never accomplishing more than fitting in. I wanted to tell him how I LOVE that he's different, and how I've NEVER wanted him to be 'normal'.

And I did, later.

First, though, that word started flooding my mind. All the references and uses I've made. 'How weird is that?' 'Don't pick your nose. That's weird.' When I thought about it, I figured out that he could have just put together all the things I said were weird, things he probably does and made the inference (crazy how he can do that sometimes now, you autism moms know what I'm talking about, that's a big deal). He could have decided he was weird just from what I have said to him or around him.

Cue the mommy guilt.

There's another word that has been floating around in debate these days, and I never understood just how hurtful it can be until my Jackson was diagnosed with autism. We don't say it in our house, and I don't know if Jackson has ever even heard it, yet anyway. If you don't know the word I'm talking about, its 'retarded'. It's not a bad word, not profanity or vulgar, but it can be a hurtful word all the same. Not just to the mommies and daddies and caregivers and others who love someone with disabilities, but to the disabled themselves. They may not hear and understand or process the way we do, but they get it. They know what it means. And that one word thrown at them carelessly can define how they see themselves even if you never meant for it to.

How does a 7 year old boy with autism decide he's the weird kid? Because in this world, even in our home where I've done all I can to make a safe comfortable place for my babies to grow up, we define normal with our words and actions and demand conformity. He's getting to the point in his development where he sees just how different he is, and words thrown around carelessly, they land differently on his little ears.

"Death and life are in the power of the tongue."

Proverbs 18:21

I want my words to give life, inspiration and encouragement to my children. I don't ever want to tear them down or make them feel inferior.

So, this kid's on a mission. After all, we've got more stuff to put in the cart and cross off this 'weird' list so we can go home and get back to more important things like building lego towers and eating ice cream (which is last on the list because it melts).

As my head swirls from the whirlwind of thoughts, he hasn't skipped a beat, and I tell him, "You're not weird. You're the best kind of different there is, and I love you."

Changing the World in 30 Some Odd Years

I haven't blogged in a while. There's lots going on in my life and my kitchen, but the energy and time to put it out there in a way you might want to read it, it's just not there. I am journaling and reading, and I will often think to myself, "I need to share that." However, nothing ever seems to get typed, and if it does, somehow sharing doesn't feel right by the time I get to the end of the post. There have been several posts I decided to just save for another day.

So, to sum all that up. I'm stuck. Pretty much the same place I was when this post was written. That was 3 years ago. I've struggled more with this birthday than any before. I think partly because I'm still dealing with many of the same things that I've been struggling with since childhood. I feel like I should be so much farther along than I am. Seriously, if I were a baby failing to develop and grow, there would be panic. I know all about that kind of panic with Jackson's developmental delays. But, see when you're a grown up, and the delay is spiritual, you can hide it all by simply going through the motions and smiling.  Just laugh every now and then, say something spiritual and profound once in a while, and everyone thinks you're doing great. I also think I'm struggling with this birthday because being stuck like I am, I'm reminiscing and thinking about my childhood and the person I wanted to be and the things I wanted to do. I was gonna change the world, Y'all, and somehow 30 some odd years seemed like plenty of time to do it. Oh, to have that kind of imaginative faith again.

Life comes in seasons, and I know that this, too, shall pass. And, when it does, I'll let you know.

Anyway, back to the point of this post.

I'm reading several books right now. One is Running The Edge by Adam Goucher and Tim Catalano. I bought it because I read Olympic marathoner Kara Goucher's book Running for Women and LOVED it! I kinda thought her husband's book would be just as good. Well, it's a little heavy on the psychology and humanistic philosophy for me, but not a bad read. I prefer runners to write about running, but you know, I'm weird like that. Anyway, there are some really great points and stories inside. Today I read a quote that really spoke to me, and I thought I would share it for my birthday. (One day late. Shh.)

"Among the crypts in Westminster Abbey, there is an inscription on the tomb of an Anglican bishop.

"When I was young and free and my imagination had no limits, I dreamed of changing the world. As I grew older and wiser, I discovered the world would not change, so I shortened my sights somewhat and decided to change only my country.

But it, too, seemed immovable.

As I grew into my twilight years, in one last desperate attempt, I settled for changing only my family, those closest to me, but alas, they would have none of it.

And now, as I lie on my deathbed, I suddenly realize: If I had only changed myself first, then by example I would have changed my family.

From their inspiration and encouragement, I would then have been able to better my country, and who knows, I may have even changed the world."

I love this inscription, and will now add my thirty-something-whipper-snapper thoughts on it. To truly change the world you have to start with yourself, and focus on being obedient to the One who created you and the calling he gave you. I think there would be many more world changers among us if we would let Him change us BEFORE we try to conquer the world. Otherwise, you just get discouraged and burnt out....and stuck.

Jacob's No Bake Cookies

My oldest son is in 2nd grade, and one of his recent assignments was a how-to paper. After thinking for a while and knowing that his dad and I (and his teacher) would probably say no to anything baseball, he decided he wanted to make no-bake cookies. "Like the ones Daddy makes." (He says this because Mommy doesn't make no-bake cookies because mommy doesn't like no-bake cookies. Shhh. I ate his and loved them. ;-)

Daddy makes his sister's recipe, which turns out to be the go-to recipe I've seen floating around Pinterest lately (found here).

The only thing is that this recipe calls for the use of the stove and boiling things. Not really safe for a clumsy absent minded 8 year old. After all, he IS his mother's son. So, working together we adapted the recipe to the microwave AND added a 'secret ingredient'. He was able to make these by himself with only a little supervision. How cool is that? I'm raising a chef....or at least a kid who might be happy to help his mommy in the kitchen, wahoo!

So, here it is, exactly the way it appeared in his finished paper.

Do you like chocolate and peanut butter? If so, then here is a kid friendly recipe for how to make No Bake Cookies. 

½ cup butter
2 cups sugar
½ cup milk
4 Tbsp cocoa
½ cup peanut butter
3 to 3 ½ cup quick cooking oats
2 tsp vanilla

First combine butter, sugar, milk and cocoa in a medium microwave safe bowl. Microwave until butter is melted, about 3 minutes, stirring every minute or so. Then microwave for about 30 seconds more, until bubbly. Then quickly add the last ingredients. Add the secret ingredient. Scoop out onto wax paper, and allow to cool. Finally eat.

Here are some more pics.

What bubbly looks like coming out of the microwave.

All mixed up and ready to scoop.

Jacob chose white chocolate chips for the secret ingredient. They melted, but marbled in. So, it looked like a mistake at first, but turned out to be a pretty good choice in the end. I ended up dipping my fingers in water and pushing them down into disks after he scooped them all out.

The Right Shoes Make All the Difference in the World

I've been running since March of 2012 as part of my own personal Oxygen Mask Project, and I just suffered my first blister after Thanksgiving. I was wearing Brooks Ravenna 3, and loved them so far. I reasoned that my decision to up the miles in preparation for a half marathon was the culprit for my sudden discomfort, but I wanted to make sure I had the right shoes. I went to a large running chain in our area. I figured since their logo is on every race t-shirt I've received so far, and a friend highly recommended them, I should give it a shot.

Their fitting process involves computer mapping your feet and running on a tread mill. It was strange running in front of someone for the purpose of buying shoes. Nevermind the fact that the person helping me looked like he was barely 16. I'm pretty sure after our conversation, he was at least an upper classman in college. I don't know because I didn't ask, and I sure wasn't going to tell him how old I was. Besides, I think my age radar is broken. Funny how the older you get, the younger everyone else looks. Anyway, the video of my stride, how my foot pronates when I land, how a motion control shoe would be the best for me, it was all very interesting. I bought some neon, motion control shoes.

I'm pretty sure if I ran at night in these, I would glow in the dark.

First run in the new shoes, awesome. Compliments galore. Then, I started to feel soreness in my feet I had never felt before. I decided I just needed to break them in, but the more I ran, the more pain I felt. Then I started suffering some of the same issues I felt when I had first started running, plus pain in the under inside part of my calf. Could they be the wrong shoes? But, he 'tested' me. How are they the wrong shoes? Am I pushing myself too hard? What's the deal?

I shared my frustration with a friend who is more of a natural runner, and she thought my feet were just fine the way God made them and I should try running in a shoe that allowed my feet to do what they were designed to do. (Pause for a second to think about the fact that most creatures in nature that rely on running to eat or survive have padded or hooved feet. I have neither. Does that mean I'm crazy for wanting to run, like for fun and fitness?) So, I started looking into natural running, stride, gate, cadence and basically running like my kids run. I ended up going to a natural running store to have a gate evaluation. Aside from finding out I was doing really well in some things (good posture, good mid-stance form), I found out (at least to the natural chi-running expert evaluating me) that I was not doing well in other things. He talked about learning how to run 'soft' and not landing on my heel. Which I didn't think I was doing, but he video taped me running. So, I couldn't argue. The way he explained it, it was like I was stopping and starting every time I took a step and overworking my lower legs. Lean forward, increase your cadence (180 steps per minute) and land on your mid-foot not your heel; that's what he told me. I also learned from his video that my hips hurt because my core is weak. You know how some people have a 'wiggle' in their walk. Well, I have a 'wiggle' in my run, and that's not good. Add strengthening my core to the list. Oh, the thought of more crunches and planks just made me want to cry. I wanted to tell him how hard I'm already working on my core, that I know he can't tell, but it's SO much stronger than it was when I started all this craziness. I love my children, but they wreaked havoc on my midsection. Ok, back to running. I bought some shoes. I'm not super happy with the aesthetic, but they feel great.

I know Altra makes prettier shoes. If I ever buy another pair, I'll get more color.

After leaving there, I started researching further, learning about stress in your life and how it affects your running. According to other natural running experts, my issues with my lower leg might be due to adrenal stress, and not necessarily a result of my running. So, now my crazy, mommy, wife, maid, cook, chauffeur, therapist, philosopher life was causing me actual physical pain. Awesome. Now what?

Back to basics.

I started running barefoot, as in just socks, on my treadmill, and started working in these changes and my new 'natural' shoes. I noticed lots of positive things. Many of the issues I had noticed creeping up due to the half marathon training were beginning to fade. I started thinking I was on the right track. Then I got the "it's not the flu but it feels like it" virus and was sick for a month over Christmas break. How awesome is that? It forced me to rest and alleviate some of the offending stress, which was good, but I was very frustrated about how far behind I fell on my training. When I decided I was well, I hit the pavement hard and fast, too fast and with poor form. The running expert I bought the shoes from told me to carefully incorporate the new strategies and the shoes into my routine by 10% each week until I was in them completely. I didn't listen and decided since I had to take so much time off for the 'flu', I could just start from scratch. Ha! Running in the new shoes all the time and overdoing the 'natural' thing, I over corrected for the heel striking and ended up running more on my forefoot than my mid-foot. This caused horrible shin splints and calf pain. More time off, more frustration. During this time I would look through my training log and long to be running again. I also spent a lot of time in running magazines and web sites, wishing and hoping. Anyway, in my obsessiveness, I noticed my times in the new shoes were horribly slow. The chi people say running naturally should increase your speed and efficiency. Ugh. I'm doing something else wrong.

New plan. How about the middle of the road?

Hybrid, natural supportive shoes, and steady slow progression back from illness and injury.

These are the most expensive shoes I have ever purchased without a 4-6 inch heel. I've begun to have day-mares that I'm turning into the little old lady in orthotics, buying shoes based on comfort not style. Imagine cold sweats and loss of appetite. Just me overreacting. I think they're pretty stylish actually, and let me tell you, I love them!

No specialty running store this time. I went to try these on at one of those giant sporting goods stores, but ultimately bought them online. I got the brand I loved (like the ones I had before the blisters) and a more natural, low drop shoe. The best of both worlds, and I'm faster and healthier than ever.

I incorporated much of what the chi running expert told me, but ultimately I run the way I feel most comfortable running. I try to lean forward, keep my feet under me, and land mid-foot with a bent knee, but mostly I just run and enjoy the fact that I can.

I'm still very far behind in my training, and I don't know if I'll be able to do 13.1 miles come race day (will only be up to 9-10 miles by then). However, I'm sure I'm on the right track to enjoying running, pain free and healthy.

Some other things that have helped are coconut water (natural hydration helping me avoid headaches after my long runs), foam rolling my legs every day, and active isolated flexibility/stretching a few times a week.

I'll let you know how the half marathon goes. I can tell you no matter how embarrassing my time, I'll be slapping that 13.1 sticker on the back window of my car with pride. Next goal, 26.2!

*Note: Look for another post on the half marathon. Illness, injury and the inability to reach my training goals might cause me to postpone it until November or just skip it altogether in favor of going ahead and crossing the full marathon off my bucket list.

So, I Want to Do Mornings Now

This year, I've decided to try something new. It's called getting up before I have to. I tried it before the break. I don't like it, and consequently stopped while on the break. All of you morning people that wake up excited about life and a new day, and I mean this in the most loving Christian way possible, I can't stand you. Or, at least I can't stand the part of you that makes you that way, the DNA I didn't inherit. I suppose it's jealousy.

I've often thought life would be so much easier for me if I could wake up and start the day with as much energy as my dad used to. Poor man. Morning person to his very core, and always so happy to see us when we emerged from our slumber. My mom, myself (obviously) and my brothers, not so fond of mornings. The rest of us made a rule that my dad couldn't talk or sing until we had been up for half an hour. This was honestly for his own protection. Some mornings, it seemed to kill him to be quiet. After all, he'd been up for hours and had so much to share about what he'd been reading or thinking. Many mornings, after the allotted time had passed for us to get used to the fact that we were no longer snuggled warm in our beds, he would begin conversations with vibrancy and go on about his day like the world was his to conquer. That right there is what I wish I had inherited. If he had to wake us for anything, usually church because he was off to work before the sun rose most weekdays, he would enter our rooms with inhuman joy, playing some military wake up call on his pretend finger trumpet or singing Patch the Pirate's Rise and Shine Lazy Sleepy Head until we rose from our beds just to get away from the sound. [And, now you know why I am the way I am. That crazy (albeit awesome) man tortured me every weekend and holiday my whole childhood.]

I used to pray that my children somehow inherited that trait from him. Then I came to my senses and remembered that they already rise with the sun, why on earth would I pray that they would continue to torture me after their baby wakefulness came to an end. Needless to say, God knows better than we do, and He in His providence did not grant my early prayers. However, I will say that it is unbelievably hard for an adult who doesn't want to get out of bed to wake children who don't want to get out of bed. We're talking about serious battles before the sun comes up. Who wants to argue with a 6 year old about the importance of school or the reason we should go to church before the sun comes up? Every part of me except the mom part wants to say, "you're right, let's just crawl back into bed until noon."

The thing is, I'm always complaining about not having enough time to myself, time for reading and study, journaling and blogging, design and art projects, exercise and planning, things you can't do with three kids around. I'm usually spent at the end of the day. By the time I survive the day, get the kids to bed, lay out clothes, make lunches and pack back packs, the only thing I feel like doing is to crawl in bed for the best kind of alone time, sleep. So, waking earlier in the morning, is really my only option.

School starts back tomorrow for Jackson, the next day for my other two. We will resume leaving the house before the sun, and all that goes with it, minus an hour or two of sleep for me. I'm trying to get happy about my new morning person trial and having time to wake up myself before I have to wake the kids. Then maybe I'll have kinder answers for when they whine about how tired they are and ask why they have to go to school.

Have I ever mentioned I don't like coffee? In order to make this work, I might need to start. Maybe I'm gonna need to switch from my yummy green tea with honey to something stronger like chai, or I guess I could get back to my roots with a little earl gray or Irish breakfast tea. Or, I could just suck it up, grow up and make it happen without the use of stimulants.

I'll let you know how it goes. This has the potential to be a life changing resolution. Of course, it also has more potential to be one of those resolutions that gets scrapped by February. We'll see.

Cinnamon Rolls [Whole Wheat, Low Sugar]

Drizzling maple syrup over the roll in stead of icing adds sweetness while keeping it natural.

 I've shared before how frustrating it is that Jackson doesn't like chocolate. Chocolate cupcakes, brownies, cookies, all that is so much easier to cook without eggs, but he just doesn't like it. He does love cinnamon, though, and I've capitalized on the power of that spice. It adds flavor and masks the 'health' of many things. For instance, my quickie go-to when we were doing the gluten free, casein free thing was to make cinnamon toast using a honey and cinnamon spread concoction with the gluten/egg free nearly tasteless bread available in the health food section of our local grocery store. He loved it, and I think it was the cinnamon. I still make him cinnamon toast, but I use wheat bread and butter now.

Something he considers a big treat is cinnamon rolls. Since I make these from scratch with yeast, they're more labor and time intensive than say muffins or pancakes. That's why he considers them a treat, they don't happen very often. I love how easy it was to healthen up the recipe and provide him something he loves that's good for him, too. Someday, when I get him over his texture issues with nuts, I'll add them to the filling for protein and crunch.

Here's the recipe:

Dough:
 2 1/4 tsp active dry yeast (or one yeast packet)
1/2 cup warm water (between 90 and 105 degrees F)
1/2 cup scalded milk (it is very important that you scald the milk)
1/4 cup natural sugar (I use Florida Crystals organic cane sugar most of the time)
6 Tbsp organic butter, melted
1 tsp salt
1 egg (I use my mom's free-range, corn-free eggs)
3 to 4 cups flour (I usually mix whole wheat pastry flour and all-purpose flour in a 60/40 mixture. I've found that the more whole wheat flour I use, the more dense and less sweet the roll tastes, but obviously the more healthy it is. You could go more or less on the mixture depending on your purpose for the rolls.)

Filling:
My current go-to filling is homemade apple butter sweetened with honey. I've found that Cracker Barrel has a natural unsweetened apple butter with good flavor to use in a pinch. You could use a pumpkin or banana filling, too. If you're not using sugar and butter (like the usual cinnamon roll filling), though, you need some kind of fruit to make it work.

Apple Butter
 3 cups apple cider
2 lbs apples, peeled, cored and chopped
1/2 cup honey
1 tsp ground cinnamon

In a large saucepan over medium heat, bring the cider to a boil. Stir in the apples and reduce the heat to low. Cover and simmer, stirring frequently for about 1 hour or until the apples are tender. Remove the apples from the heat and mash. Stir in the honey and cinnamon. Return to heat and cook uncovered on low until thick, stirring often. Allow to cool before spreading onto rolls. You won't use all of this recipe on the rolls, so have a container ready to put the leftovers up in the fridge. I'm not a canner. So, I'm not sure this recipe is safe for canning.

Pumpkin Filling, combine ingredients and mix well.
1 15oz can pumpkin (not the pie filling, just the pumpkin)
1/2 cup honey
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp ginger

Directions:
Have filling prepared and cooled. Scald the milk and melt the butter (in separate containers).

Heat oven to 350 degrees F.

In a small bowl, dissolve yeast in warm water and set aside. In a large bowl mix milk, sugar, melted butter, salt and egg. Add 2 cups of the flour and mix until smooth. Add yeast. Mix in remaining flour 1 cup at a time until dough is easy to handle. On a well floured work surface, knead the dough for about 5-10 minutes. Place in a well-greased bowl, cover and let it rise until it's doubled in size, usually 1 to 1 1/2 hours.

After the dough has doubled, punch it down and roll it out on a floured surface. You're going for a roughly 9x15 inch rectangle. Spread the filling over the dough. You want to get enough on there, but not so much that it all squeezes out when you roll up the dough. Jackson likes cinnamon, so I will often sprinkle more over the filling after I'm done spreading. Beginning with the long side, roll up the dough into a log and cut 10-12 slices.

Grease and flour a round 9 inch cake pan like you would for baking a cake. Place the cinnamon roll slices close together and bake for about 30 minutes or until nicely browned. If you want to, you can use a bigger pan or a square or rectangular pan, place the slices close together and let it rise one more time (about 45 minutes) before baking. I'm always so tired of waiting by this point, I just put it in the oven.

Yummy!

For the 'icing' I just warm some maple syrup and pour it over the top. Jackson will eat it without the syrup or icing, too, especially if we're running late for school, and I like not having the stickiness in my car. The pumpkin filling is from my homemade pop tarts, and you could use the same icing recipe on these. You would probably have to double or triple it, though, to make enough for a dozen rolls.

Now, I'm going to have to make these while we're still on break.

Chicken and Dumplings

It's New Year's Day, and I currently have a ham in the oven for our traditional lucky meal. However, I decided I would sit down and go through my photo app to see what I cooked, photographed and never blogged. This one stood out to me because of how cold and rainy it is outside right now, Chicken and Dumplings.

It was dark out and all I had was the light above my cook top.

I LOVE this old Southern staple. I always have. It is one of those comfort foods that fills me with warmth and helps sooth whatever is ailing me. One of my favorite restaurants to eat chicken and dumplings at was the Whistle Stop Cafe in Irondale, Alabama. Cracker Barrel's aren't that bad, either. My kids think mine are better than theirs. They haven't always been that good, though. When I first started trying to cook this, like a lot of things in my life, I had a tendency to over complicate it until I ruined it. I would use chicken breast, and pre-made stock. It would be bland. I would add veggies and herbs to add flavor, but then it wasn't chicken and dumplings, at least not the kind I had grown up on. It was chicken soup with dumplings. I would use Bisquick for the dumplings and I would drop them in. They would usually disintegrate into the broth. Then Jackson's food allergies began, and suddenly I became a chicken expert.

One of the few things I could feed him without complication was chicken and rice. Once we cleared wheat as an allergen, I began making chicken and dumplings for him, too. Now, I think they are as comforting to him as they are to me. My daughter loves them, as well.

Some of the things I learned from my mother in law, my Memaw and from my favorite cooking blogs/websites helped me figure out how to make them perfect every time. I learned that the flavor is in the bone and started using whole chickens. I learned that to maximize that flavor, it needs to cook a LONG time. If you use a whole chicken, fill the pot with water just until the chicken is covered and cook it on low heat for a few hours, the broth won't need anything but a little salt and pepper. I cook mine in my pasta pot with the colander part on. Once the chicken is cooked until it is literally falling apart, I lift up the colander part (the part for draining the pasta), and I let the broth drain out. Then I flip it over, dropping the chicken out onto a plate. Then I pick the meat off the chicken dropping it back into the broth as I go. This way, I don't have to strain the broth or fish through it with a straining spoon to get all the boney bits out. I add milk to the broth, too. I couldn't tell you how much since I just go until it looks right, but if I had to guess it would be about half of how much broth is in the pot, maybe 4-5 cups.

My daughter loves to help me with this part.

Then there's the dumplings. I roll mine out and cut them into squares. I've heard of several different ways to mix up the dough, but I've started using 1 part whole wheat pastry flour, 1 part all-purpose flour and 2 parts self rising flour. Sometimes I ditch the all-purpose and just split the whole wheat pastry flour and the self rising flour. My husband doesn't like it when I do this. He says I'm ruining a good thing with too much whole wheat flour, but my kids haven't noticed. They gobble it up like they always have. After I mix up the flour, I use 2 parts flour mixture to 1 part milk, give or take a little bit until I get the right looking/feeling dough. It should feel like biscuit dough, not wet and sticky, but not hard and dry like cookie or pastry dough. Then I dump it out onto a floured work surface, roll it out to about a 1/4 to an 1/8th inch thick rounded rectangle and cut it into squares with a pizza cutter. For my family of five, that translates to about 5 cups flour to about 2 1/2 cups milk and a nice long sheet of dumplings.

After I have pulled the chicken off the bones, returned it to the broth and discarded the bones, I add the milk along with some salt and pepper to the broth and bring it to a boil. While it's heating, I make my dumplings. I turn the broth down to a simmer and then add the dumplings one handful at a time. I cover it and let it cook for about ten minutes. Then I uncover it and let it cook for another ten minutes. I use a ladle to push the dumplings down, stir and separate them as they do tend to stick to each other.

This is the best way to cook chicken and dumplings, but I rarely have the time these days. I've found some short cuts that have helped me manage to have this comfort food even during the busy school week. One is to unwrap the chicken, remove the insides and freeze it inside a slow cooker liner (inside a freezer bag, too), the day I want chicken and dumplings (or chicken pot pie or soup) I can just pull it out and stick it into the crock pot in the morning (out of the freezer bag, but still in the slow cooker liner). If I use the liner and a frozen chicken, I don't worry about adding water. It seems to provide enough for itself, but I would keep an eye on it to make sure there is enough liquid for it to cook appropriately. After several hours on low, I pull the liner out with the chicken, hold it over a stock pot or a bowl and cut a few holes in the liner for the broth to drain out. Once I've drained it enough, I set the bag onto a plate and pull the chicken off the bones dropping it into the pot/bowl with the broth. If I'm going to cook it right away, I just add water to the stock pot and continue as always. But, another thing I've learned is to put this slow cooked chicken and concentrated broth into a freezer safe tupperware container and freeze it for later. The fat will rise to the top and it will look separated, but it will all mix back together when you get ready to cook it. When I pull it out of the freezer, I run hot water over the bowl part loosening the contents. Then I drop it into a stock pot on my cook top, add enough water to cover it and turn the heat onto medium low. Then once it comes to a boil, I add the milk, bring it to another boil and add the dumplings. Cooked meat never freezes as good as raw. The texture and the flavor seem to suffer greatly, but I've found that with plenty of broth to cover the chicken, it works for meals like this. I freeze my own pot pies, as well, and they freeze ok, too.

Now, I'm wishing I could have a bowl of this to warm up today, but we'll soon be having ham, greens, corn bread and black eyed peas. So, I guess I'll save this for another cold wet day this year.