Buttermilk Waffles

These waffles are topped with fresh whipped cream, honey, blueberries and strawberries.

I've been making waffles for Jackson since we discovered his food allergies. There are NOT any frozen waffles or waffle mixes on the market that are safe for him that don't taste like cardboard. He has always loved every recipe I've ever made him from gluten and dairy free to the egg free version that completely flopped my taste bud test. So, telling you that this recipe is the bomb because he thinks so isn't gonna mean a whole lot. He just loves anything you can put syrup and whipped cream on. However, telling you that this recipe rocks because my 'natural food is gross' opinionated hubby likes them means this recipe is a keeper.

So, the original recipe is from Cooks Illustrated (LOVE my subscription), but I had to change it a little (don't I always).

Anyway, I will share with you that they said one of the secrets to good buttermilk waffles is a thick batter, and taking the extra time to whip the egg whites and fold them in really does make a difference.

1 1/4 Cup Unbleached All-Purpose Flour
3/4 Cup Whole Wheat Pastry Flour (you can play with this mixture, this is the ratio I need to get my picky hubby to eat them and not complain that they taste like whole wheat bread)
1 tsp Sea Salt
2 tsp Baking Soda
2 Eggs, separated
1 3/4 Cup Buttermilk
4 Tbsp Unsalted Butter, melted

Heat the waffle iron. Whisk dry ingredients together in a medium bowl. Combine the buttermilk and butter in a small bowl and whisk in the egg yolks. In a medium bowl, beat the egg whites until they hold a 2 inch peak. Add the buttermilk mixture to the dry ingredients in a thin steady stream while gently mixing with a rubber spatula. Gently fold in the egg whites until combined.

Spread or drop the batter onto the waffle iron following the manufacturer's instructions. Cook until golden brown, about 2-5 minutes.

These work well, frozen, too. If you know that you're going to freeze them and want to use your toaster to reheat and crisp them up, cook them until just about done but not all the way browned. That way, when you pop them in your toaster, they'll finish browning and be nice and crispy.

Makes 10-12 regular sized waffles.

Super yummy!

11 Years, and a Prayer

15 years ago at my church graduation party, this boy (who used to annoy me to no end) gave me a box of cards with a book of stamps, his Auburn address and a sweet note requesting I keep in touch. That small, sweet gesture changed my life forever. Eventually, I used those cards, and he wrote back. Pretty soon we were talking on the phone for hours (annoying my roommates) and planning weekend visits together. The rest is history, and today marks eleven years since I walked down the isle to that annoying boy. ;-)

A sweet old lady once offered some advice to this new bride. She told me the love that flutters in your stomach and dances around in your head, that's not the real thing, or at least not the whole thing. That might be where it starts, but the real thing is waking up one day realizing all the glamour of the wedding and honeymoon is over. Understanding that you can't dress yourself up and hide the crazy anymore. Seeing each other for the often imperfect, sometimes annoying, increasingly unsightly, ever changing human beings you really are. And choosing to love each other anyway. That's the real thing. And, the longer I'm married, the more I'm convinced there really is more to the kind of love you choose than the kind you fall into.

As I was thinking about what to blog tonight, I thought about typing out a story from the past eleven years, something funny or sad, something sweet or just plain sappy, but I think I would like to type out a prayer, for him and me and the next eleven years.

An Open Prayer for my Husband:

I pray for God to grant you wisdom and courage to lead and guide our family. I pray that God would continue to work through you in the lives of your patients, your friends, your family and our community. I pray that God would protect you and strengthen you so that your children will always have a father to go to when life is scary or confusing or hard. I pray that He would give you good health so I never have to worry about raising them on my own. I pray that your arms are always open and your heart is always full. I pray that someday we can look at our grown children and growing family and be glad we chose each other all those years ago. I pray that as you reach the end of your journey and look back at the life you lived you have no regrets.

I pray that God gives you grace to forgive me when I fail you, when my attitude reflects contempt and resentment, and when I let the stress of life come between us.

I pray that every new day God gives us, we continue to choose each other. I pray that the hand I'm holding when its all over is yours.

I pray for another eleven years, and another and another.

Happy anniversary, Baby!

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.