meS'Morial day, 2108

If you've been reading for a while, you know that Memorial Day is the one day of the year I willingly tolerate serving s'mores.  I am just not one for shenanigans... at least, shenanigans that involve melted marshmallow and chocolate.  Everything's all fun and games until someone has to do the laundry.

But on Memorial Day, it's no holds barred.  If the kids want to roll around in marshmallow cream and fill their squirt guns with melted chocolate, I'm all, "S'cool."  I stay as cool as a cucumber.

Well, not really.  In fact, Memorial Day has a history of sending my anxiety through the roof.  (Remember last year when I burned the brats and started crying?)  But I'm always glad we did it in the end.

This year, we celebrated the start of summer with the summeriest meal on the planet: grilled brats and hot dogs, tomato and basil salad, corn on the cob, and chips with guac.  Oh yes.

Unfortunately, Laurelai and Rocco were very under the weather the whole day.  In fact, Laurelai spent approximately 22 hours sleeping because her fever was so high, and Rocco was coughing so hard, and gasping so much, I was genuinely worried it was pertussis.  I spent the day pumping them full of mega doses of ascorbate, and running around to local health food stores in search of special whooping cough treatments.  (Also, I bought homeopathic stress reliever tablets for myself, because: Memorial Day + sick kids.)

Since I'd taken them both off of dairy and sugar, and since they felt so crappy in general, I put them to bed before the s'mores activities.  Which means I'm on the hook to do another s'mores night later this summer when everyone can participate.  Dang.

After the littler ones went to bed, the three big kids headed outside to roast marshmallows over the grill.  This was the very first year I let them wear their normal clothes for this - I usually make them strip down to undies, or put on old jammie shirts to protect their play clothes from the mess.  But they proved themselves responsible, and no one got burned or covered in chocolate, so that was a definite move in the right direction from years past!

I'm so glad to have traditions like this.  I hope that when the kids grow up, they have fond memories of roasting marshmallows together on Memorial Day, and maybe even carry the tradition on in their own families.

our 'picnic lunch' with Todd. (Or, how lazy can I get and still call it a picnic?)

Last week, we headed to Todd's office for a picnic over his lunch break.  We do this every so often, since there's a really beautiful garden/grounds area with streams, small ponds, and even an authentic one-room school house.  (I'm not sure why.  But I'm also not complaining about it.)

We were going to grab McDonald's, because that's how I do picnic lunches, but then the drive-thru line was crazy-go-nuts, so we drove across the street to Natural Grocers.  I wanted to find food that wasn't too messy, didn't require plates or silverware or napkins, wouldn't stain the kids' clothes, and was super easy to clean up when we were all done.

Enter: turkey sticks, sliced cheese, crackers and hummus.  Also, a giant canteen of Kombucha and a big bottle of water.  We put it all in a cardboard box and headed over to Shelter.

Bingo bango.  Easy lunch accomplished.  I just passed out the jerky and cheese, and dumped the crackers into the cardboard box, along with the open hummus carton.  But I felt so internally conflicted - does a lunch served family-style from a cardboard box actually count as a 'picnic'?  Picnics are quaint, and planned, and cuter than this.  But then again, the attendees at the picnic in question were pretty darn cute on their own...

Okay, verdict is in: It was cute enough to be a picnic.

I poured the kombucha into a McDonald's cup I had sitting in the car (because I'm classy stuff).

After eating lunch, we explored the grounds a bit.  We met a lady who was really, really into her dog.  She detailed for me how she only feeds her dog out of her hand, three times a day, one piece of kibble at a time.  Every day.  All the time.  I'm not sure what the lady does for a living, but it must only be part-time.

Anywhoo.  We saw some other stuff, too.  Idyllic one-room schoolhouse, anyone?

Koi pond, perhaps?

Adorable kids?

Sure, I'll take them all!

And that was our visit to Shelter!

church in the park! (And what, exactly, Todd does for a living.)

Yesterday, in the ninety-seven degree heat, we had church in the park.

Oh, yes, my friends.  It was hot.

Normally, our services are held in the conference room at a hotel in town, but there are occasions when the space is rented to another party and we have to worship somewhere else.  In the winter, we often go to another hotel's conference room.  In the summer, we have services outside, and follow things up with a potluck lunch.

The last five years of church planting have offered ample opportunities for church in the park.  In fact, our very first official church service in Cedar Falls was outside in a park.  It always holds fond memories for me.

Five years ago!  Whoa.

This weekend was extra special, though, because it was the first time the teaching schedule has ever lined up for Todd to be the one teaching on a park Sunday.  I always love the Sundays that he teaches, and yesterday was no different.

Which brings me to a question that I know has been burning in your gut for a long time: What, exactly, does Todd do?


I mean, we move around a lot for church plants, he's on the teaching team and the elder team, and he preaches regularly.  So... is he a pastor or something?

The quick answer is no, and yes.  No, he's not paid to do ministry, and never aspires to be.  He works full-time as an insurance claims adjuster, just like he dreamed of doing when he was a little boy, dressing up in his dad's polos and sitting in front of a cardboard computer, answering the phone on his Fisher-Price headset.

But also, yes, he's a pastor.  In the Bible, the Greek word for 'pastor' and 'elder' is the same.  In a Biblical model, church leadership is overseen by elders - men who meet specific spiritual, moral, and logistical qualifications laid out in Scripture.  In our network, elders go through a training and vetting process, followed by a vote by the church members, and go up for re-vote each year.  They're responsible for watching over the life, doctrine, spiritual health and shepherding of their local (independent) church.

So in short, that's why he was up there teaching this weekend.  (Not all elders are regular teachers, and not all teachers are elders, but Todd's lucky enough to do both.)  I love getting to sit under my husband's teaching, and I love that the kids get the opportunity to see him in this role.  They seem to be pretty thrilled about it, too.  We're all big fans.

Anyway.  Long story short: after Todd's teaching, we all hung out and ate lunch.

She insists on having her arms hanging out the top of the Ergo, which always makes her look so uncomfortable!

The end.

'what's up' weekly.

Another day, another dollar.  Another week, another 'what's up'.

Last week, we spent the weekend up in Des Moines so we could attend the wedding of one of our beloved babysitters from back in Cedar Falls.  The kids had such a great time, and afterward Laurelai just kept saying, "My friend Bethany is MARRIED!"  It was so cute.

While we were in Des Moines, Todd took the biggest three kids to their first baseball game!

I have been on the hunt for new-to-us vintage doors to replace the hollow core monstrosities in my dining room.  A couple of weekends ago, Todd and I went to St. Louis on the hunt, and found an amazing paneled door (with a crystal doorknob and brass key plate!) for the basement stairs, but a replacement for the door to the garage eluded us.  I'm looking for a stained wood door with glass to let in some south-facing light, but the dimensions are proving hard to find in old doors with glass.  I can find paneled doors of the right width (30 inches), but nothing with glass.  It's driving me batty.

I was so bummed about not finding a door, after having driven two hours there and two hours back, that Todd instead let me buy the heaviest, cast-iron-iest, chippiest old radiator for the living room.  I'd been wanting to find one to add some character and anchor this floating painting.  It only took three grown men to load it into the van.  (I was absolutely no help, since I was holding Callista, and also I have a hernia that I'm hoping won't strangulate, and also I'm a bird-boned woman who never works out.)

But whatever.  We got it in the van, and we got it home, and then we rope-a-doped a friend into giving himself a hernia by helping Todd get it in the house.  I'm not looking forward to the day in the future when we move, when Todd starts cursing my name for liking heavy things, and begging me to leave it behind like he always hopes I'll do with the piano.  But I'll never cave because LOOK AT IT.

So I've spent my week ogling that.

Also?  The kids found a toad.  A couple of toads, actually, but this first toad was awe-inspiring.  (By the time the second toad was discovered later in the week, all jitters and amazement had worn off, and I found them playing Slide the Toad Down This Piece of Downspout And Dump Him Out the Other End.  Poor, poor toad.)

This week was a break week from school, and I spent a lot of time outdoors getting the last bits of my garden in for now.  Some bean seeds were planted, a few more tomato seedlings were transplanted, and I got rabbit fencing around my back raised bed.  It is looking ADORABLE out there.  Penelope filmed a garden tour that I'll have to upload soon.

On Monday, we'd planned on visiting Todd over his lunch break for a picnic on the grounds at his work.  It was rainy, though, so we postponed until Tuesday.  I'll share more photos next week, but these should suffice for now.

Rocco has been acting clingy and whiny all week, so his mantra has been "HUP?! HUP?!" (I think it's a mashup of 'help' and 'up', but I can't be sure.)

It turns out, he must have been fighting something off, because yesterday he woke up from nap burning up.   He was SO hot with fever.  All he wanted to do was cuddle.  So eventually I ran him a bath, which helped him feel better, and then I laid him in our bed and cuddled with him until he fell asleep.  It was such a sweet, brief little moment of being reminded of when he was a baby and I'd snuggle up next to him in bed.  The time goes so fast, and even though I was so sad for him that he wasn't feeling well, I was so grateful for the chance to still treat him like a baby.

Poor buddy.   Here's to hoping he feels better over the long weekend, so we can all do what we do best: dink around and act like dorks.

Have a great Memorial Day weekend!

the kids' first baseball game!

Last weekend, we were up in Iowa for a wedding, and my parents offered us tickets to take the kids to see the ICubs.  The bigger boys had been to college football games, but none of the kids had gotten the experience of their first baseball game, so Todd decided to take the older three.

Oh. Man.

While they got a little impatient through the game (watching baseball isn't exactly a ride on a speeding bullet), and while Finneas was overly occupied with the fact that the guys sitting behind them were very drunk ("They were drunk!  Mom, there were drunk guys!  They were getting drunk!"  Excellent.), it was overall a positive experience - especially once the fireworks started.

Todd said Atticus kept saying, "This is the best day of my life!" during the fireworks show.  What an awesome way to end the evening!

my baked salmon recipe: the easiest $6 meal you'll ever make. (plus, kids love it!)

I am seriously the WORST at planning for dinner.  I mean, Todd and I sit down each week at our Family Table meeting and plan out the week's menu, so I always know what I should be cooking.  But often, I start each day thinking about breakfast, then about cleanup, then about school, then about lunch, then about cleanup, then about school... and then it's 3:30 p.m. and I have no meat thawed for dinner.

Enter: chicken nuggets, pasta, or frozen burger patties.  I'm not proud of it, but that's life.

Last night I found myself in the same old boat, so I opened up the freezer to see what I could whip up quickly.  I found two bags of frozen salmon fillets - BINGO.

I love salmon because it thaws quickly in a bowl of cold water.  Most frozen one-pound bags of salmon fillets comes with four individually packaged pieces.  I empty all of the individual packages (still wrapped) into a big mixing bowl filled with tap water, and let it sit for about 30 minutes.  I do stir them around a few times to avoid them freezing together while they thaw.

When I'm ready to cook them, it could seriously not be easier.  They take about 30 minutes total from start to finish, including prep time.  And not only is it easy, it's really inexpensive for how much nutrition it packs.  For reference, a pound of wild-caught salmon at our Aldi costs $3.79.  Serve it with a bag of steamed veggies and some rice on the side, and you have a convenience meal that only costs about $6 for the whole family!  (That's about what it costs me to serve frozen chicken nuggets and fries, and it's much healthier.)

And you know what is just the freaking cherry on top?  MY KIDS LOVE IT.

I don't have to fight a single one of them to eat baked salmon.  Rocco ate fourths last night.  Between the two of them, Atticus and Rocco gobbled up an entire pound of this stuff.  And even Laurelai, who is a picky eater with texture aversions, ate all her salmon without complaint.  (The veggies I served on the side were another story.)


Baby-led Weaning

And here's the real bonus: with a baby on the cusp of toddlerhood, we're beginning the foray into baby-led weaning, and salmon is a perfect food for this.  I just love this easy-peasy way of introducing babies to big-people food.  Essentially, you wait to introduce solids until they're old enough to explore table food and you go from there. 

Some good indicators that they're ready are the ability to sit on their own, the absence of the tongue reflex (the spitting-out motion younger infants do automatically), and the motor skills that allow them to put food into their own mouths.  For our babies, I tend to offer small bites of avocado, yogurt or egg yolks from about six months on, but I don't do much beyond that until around ten or eleven months.  I have found that waiting until babies are around that age prevents them from gagging on different textures, and they can better discern how much food is appropriate to put in their mouths at once.  Plus, with my own personal history of low milk supply, I have found that waiting until this late in their first year to introduce solids is incredibly protective of our breastfeeding relationship.

Baked salmon, because it is flaky, is so easy for babies to mash with their tongues.  It is full of essential fatty acids and protein.  (Last night, I even topped each piece with a little farm-fresh butter to pack in all the healthy fats I could.)  And I've never had a baby not like salmon!

The Recipe

I'm kind of a 'throw things together and cross your fingers it works out' kind of cook, so all measurements are approximate.  You might be reassured to know, however, that I've never had this turn out badly - it seems to be a very forgiving recipe.  It is very lemony, so if you like more of a subtle lemon flavor, cut the lemon juice in half and replace the omitted amount with chicken broth.

I double this for my family.  

Why, yes, I did bring all these ingredients to my living room to photograph because my kitchen is dark.  I'm okay with my choices.

Ingredients:

1 lb wild-caught salmon fillets
1/2 tsp mineral salt (I use and love REDMOND Real Salt)
1 tsp garlic powder

2-3 Tbsp olive oil

3 Tbsp lemon juice
2 Tbsp butter, optional

Place salmon in a baking dish.  Sprinkle with salt and garlic powder.  Drizzle with olive oil and lemon juice.  Dot the top of each fillet with butter.

Bake at 350 for 25 minutes.

I served these with sides of seasoned cauli-rice and some sautéed veggies.  So easy!

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warning: graphic image of dead wildlife. may remind you of motherhood.

We spent a few days in Iowa this weekend, which meant lots of driving, and lots of late nights and early mornings thanks to the Peanut Gallery, who just WOULD NOT SLEEP.  It's like kids are insistent on seeing how far they can push themselves to the brink of exhaustion without having a full-on stroke.

Having been on Peanut Gallery Duty all weekend, I found that I really identified with this poor squirrel when we found it in the driveway yesterday morning.

I bet this squirrel was a mom of preschoolers at one point, and that's why she looks so dead behind the eyes.  Is it too soon to make jokes like that?  No.  I checked with her, and she said it's fine because it's true.

Solidarity, my squirrel sister.

'what's up' weekly.

This week was full of noteworthy news!

First of all, Rocco continues to beg for potty training.  I continue to put it off until a more convenient time.  I am starting to realize that potty training is always going to be inconvenient, so we may need to just buckle down and do it.  Gahhhhhhhhhh.

Secondly, Finneas lost his second tooth.  Well, it's his third missing tooth, but one of those was extracted by the dentist, so we count this one as his second.  He named it "Mr. Jeff."

Thirdly, Callista reached adulthood and is now eating real people food at the real people table.  Granted, she can barely see over the top of the edge, but whatever.  It counts.

And lastly, the kids are still the very best in the whole world.

This life is crazy, but so very good.