Hot Jambalaya!

Delicious and Spicy Slow Cooker Jambalya

This recipe has been one of our long standing favorites.  I happen to love it for a few more reasons than just its delicious flavor.  The first, is that not all slow cooker recipes are created equal - this is one of the greats.  The simple way it comes together, it can be prepared hours ahead of time, and the delicious aroma that floats around our house, makes it irresistible - especially on a cold, snowy winter's day.  Well fortunately, today is not one of those days, and even though we've had a few adventures with this meal - it won't cook if you don't plug in the cooker, and mistakenly putting a tablespoon of cayenne into the pot, instead of a tablespoon of paprika will SIGNIFICANTLY increase the spicy - it is my pleasure to share it with you dear reader.

Adorable Kitchen Helper

Slow Cooker Jambalaya
(Adapted from Colleen's Slow Cooker Jambalaya on allrecipes.com)

2 Medium Onions Diced
4 Stalks of Celery Diced
2 Green Peppers Diced
2.5 Chorizo Sausages cut into rounds
8 Chicken Thighs cut into bite sized pieces
2 Cups of Water
2 Tbsp Chicken Better than Bullion
4 Tbsp Creole Seasoning*
1 32oz tin of Diced Tomato
1lb frozen Cooked Shrimp (optional)

*We use a home made Creole Seasoning, recipe below.

Creole Seasoning
(allrecipes.com)

1 1/4 tsp Onion Powder
1 1/4 tsp Garlic Powder
1 1/4 tsp Dried Oregano
1 1/4 tsp Dried Basil
1/2 tsp Dried Thyme
1/2 tsp Black Pepper
1/2 tsp White Pepper
1/2 tsp Cayenne
1 Tbsp Paprika
1 3/4 tsp Salt

1. Dice vegetables, chicken and sausage, combine in slow cooker.
2. Add Creole Seasoning, water and bullion (or chicken broth).
3. Cook on high for 4-6 hours. Stir occasionally.
4. Add 2 cups of minute rice, cook until well mixed in and ready.
5. Add shrimp (For those of you lucky ones who live in houses who eat shrimp...)

Another adorable helper.

Costco Chorizo Sausage

This recipe turns out delicious every single time we cook it, and it is very flexible as far as what can be added to it, or subtracted from it. Make it spicier - add extra cayenne, change the type of sausage, or add extra shrimp. If you don't like minute rice, cook rice on the side and serve!  Enjoy everyone! 

All ready to go!

It is exhausting work!

Adventures in Cooking: Indian Spiced Roasted Chicken

Ok, so I'm not a food blogger. I'm just someone who likes to blog (Is that a verb?). Anyway, there are times I find myself befuddled, with absolutely nothing profound to say, and yet, I have an insatiable desire to BLOG - about something, anything.  It seems that lately my life has been overwhelmed by being MOM, and so the only real thoughts I have about daily life are often wrapped up in mundane questions, like - when did the baby eat last? what time does the bus come? what on earth would make THAT stain? and most often -  what are we eating for dinner?

A snapshot of my daily life.

In answer to the last, pinterest has been a literal wealth of ideas and I am drawn to simple, unique recipes that my family might enjoy. Left up to my own dinner ideas, we would probably be eating a weekly rotating cycle of stirfrys, tacos, and pasta, so here's to something new. Since I like to use pinterest as more than just a place to organize pictures, I thought why not share some of these successes and failures? At least it gives me something to write about. 

My recipe is slightly different than the one in the link below, but I will detail what I used.


Adapted From: Indian Spiced Roasted Chicken (Originally found on simply-delcious-food.com) 

Serves 6 - 8
Cooking Time: 2 Hours

2 Whole Chickens
3 Tbsp Red Curry Paste
2 Cups Plain Yogurt
6 Tbsp Garam Masala
4 Tsp Salt
2-3 Tbsp Lime Juice

1. Preheat oven to 350'
2. In a bowl combine yogurt, curry paste, spices and lime juice.
3. Rub mixture over chicken, put extra marinade into cavity of chicken.
4. Place in oven at 350' for 45mins, increase heat to 425' cook for around an 1 hr 15mins, check regularly on chickens to be sure the spices aren't burning.

The sauce was messy but delicious!

*Refer to original recipe for more detailed instructions. 

As I mixed my chicken marinade, I found that the red curry paste was quite spicy, you may want to reduce the amount in your own version.   I paired this chicken with another Pinterest recipe called Kung Pao Cauliflower. I will detail that recipe another time - but it is the first time I have seen my kids literally GOBBLE down cauliflower and ask for more.

So, how did all of this spicy chicken go over with the kids, you may ask....

Surprisingly well. M told me he liked dinner so much he felt like he should thank me twice for it, and O ate without the usual amount of coercion.  S had formula, and she thought it was top notch. For myself, I thought the chicken had fabulous flavor, I think that it might be a recipe to try on something like wings in the future. I think the only other change I would make is to use a yogurt that's less thick, or thin it out with something so that it wasn't so much of a paste on the chicken - it will be about finding the balance between something that will stick to the chicken, but not cake itself on. I also found that where the recipe recommends a change in cooking temperature, the sauce on the top of the chicken burned far too quickly, and so I reduced heat and kept it at 350'.

Beautifully roasted, the meat was delicious and juicy!

And there you have it, my first attempt at celebrating my epicurious side.
To Eat and Enjoy. 

God Talks

I don't know how God talks to other people. I only know how he talks to me. Now, of course, imagining how God might talk to me, always sounds one way in my head - for example: 

Me: GOD!
God: It's so nice to hear from you, what can I do for you, my dear?
Me: GOD! Did you see that driver? The one in the blue car? They cut me off! 
God: I did see that! The nerve. It's a good thing I created you to be a perfect driver, make sure as you swerve around them and cut them off, then flip them off. It's ok - just this once - after all, as God, I give you permission to take down  that complete moron driver, confront him! Don't let him think that you are going to be pushed around on these crazy roadways!

In reality, it usually sounds something more like this. 

Me: GOD!
God: Yes? It's nice to talk to you today.
Me: Did you see that driver? The one in the blue car? They cut me off!!
God: I know, and I made you aware of them, you avoided them, you and your family are safe. 
Me: But did you see that? I hate people who drive like idiots!
God: Do you remember driving to your sister's last week?
Me: Yes...
God: You cut off a man in a truck. Actually worse than what happened to you today. 
Me: But the baby was screaming, and I was distracted...
God: I know, I kept him safe on that day from you.  Drive carefully. 

Ok, at this point you either think I am totally off my nut - or you have experienced these kinds of talks with God too. If you happen to think I am off my nut, that's ok - I'd be happy to listen to, and talk to you about my relationship with Jesus.  If you also have had these talks - then you know what I mean. 

Lately, though I've run into situations with individuals who think that they have been specifically given a WORD FROM GOD to go and knock (usually) someone who has offended them, over the head with what GOD has to say - and feel completely justified doing it, after all God told them too. 

So, here's the thing.  We, as Christians, are supposed to be doing things like "going into all the world" and sharing with others our personal relationship with Jesus. Instead we have taken it upon ourselves to hold onto offenses and then beat the holy snot out of these people who have offended us, by using God as an excuse to do the beating. Have we all gone out of our minds?  I was listening to a challenging sermon lately that rang true with me. The pastor was talking about loving our enemies. He pointed out, that our enemies were NEVER found within the four walls of our church. NEVER. We have a mandate to love and forgive every person who claims the title "Christian". The instruction to love our enemies was intended to be focused outward on a hurting world that doesn't know the peace that comes from a relationship with Christ. 

Honestly, hearing some recent stories of Christians full on attacking other Christians, makes me question my own desire to be a Christian.  I can only imagine the impact it has on people who are watching Christians - and these are the people who NEED to be loved for Christ.  Yet, we spend our time blasting one another.

Now, I'm not saying it's easy, and the hurts that some people bear can seem overwhelming and insurmountable.  All of us Christians aren't perfect, we're on a walk, and sometimes that walk takes a lifetime, but I am starting to think that forgiveness is the key.  Oh man - and it's HARD. When I have to forgive someone, at first it is like I want to rage and scream and tell the world how it's so unfair, but when I finally really do forgive...it gets a bit easier. So far, in this experiment I call life, I've noticed two things - not only does it get easier to forgive, but my litmus test for forgiving is that somehow I am able to forget. After a while, I will think of a person who offended me, and if I literally have a difficult time remembering what exactly they have done to offend me, then I know I must have forgiven them.

It's not usually up to us, people, to go tell other Christians where they have gone off the rails.  God will tell them, and in the mean time, I can love them and pray for them - and often I will find something in me that makes me either ask for forgiveness, or pray to forgive. 

Life really is better out here.  More joyful, more peaceful, more exciting, more challenging, in a place where love and forgiveness walk hand in hand.  

 
 
 

Bred Different...

Every now and then, I stop, look around and take stock of things impacting my life...

- The expectation that I should be a certain kind of wife and mother
- The complacency to allow my children to be raised by and overrun by a defective society that would ultimately shape their future
- The assumption that I should be able to have any material thing that I want
- The presumption that I should be able to have and dictate Christianity on my own terms


I could shrink back in fear, be overwhelmed and ultimately say -  "Well what can I really do?" Give up and that's it. But, as I was considering that option, I looked at myself in the mirror and thought You are willing to admit immediate defeat, when you haven't even suited up for a battle?

No Way.

I am not Super Mom, Soccer Mom, Hockey Mom, or any sports-related kind of Mom.  I am not Skinny Mom, Organic Mom, Helicopter Mom, Brainy Mom, Tech Mom, Buddy Mom or Pushover Mom. I strongly believe that my children should have boundaries, like behavioral expectations that they can understand, set bedtimes, family chores and mealtimes, times when I know they will react negatively to a decision that I have made, or they may downright dislike me, but that they ultimately know my decisions in regards to them are because they are the most important human beings in my world. I am responsible for them, not accountable to them, and that means being proactive. Developing a relationship now, that's not always flowers and rainbows, but that creates a protection, a peace, a security in this realm that we call home. So that down the road when the things that come that would shape their precious hearts and minds, they will know it is safe to come to MOM to get some kind of wisdom about it. 

My van has a crack in the windshield. The pipe that connects our sink to the basement is defective and clogs and leaks at least once a year.  We have closet doors that will literally fall off and smack you in the head if you aren't opening them properly, and there is a constant battle between us, the ants and the weeds that inhabit our yard.  It's easy when I focus on these things to look at all of the things I don't have...and want.  Like a newer home with newer appliances, built in a newer subdivision, with a bright and shiny car parked out front.  So, when people ask where do you live, I don't have to hang my head and say - a duplex...IN BEVERLY....The compulsion to buy, buy, BUY, can set me into distinct turmoil.  But, from now on, I refuse! Yes, I know we are having a third baby in a home that doesn't have a third bedroom, but it's time to get my priorities in order - to stop believing the advertising! A new house won't make me happy, or take away the obligations and pressures of a mortgage and taking care of a home. It doesn't matter if people judge me by the van I drive, it's MINE, free and clear! I am happy to work for the things that I want, and in the meantime be grateful for the things that I have. 

As a Christian, it's about time I grow up and learn that this life isn't actually all about me. It's about Christ, and living my life for him.  It means that I don't have the luxury of being offended, I have the obligation to forgive - as I have been forgiven - even when I don't understand. It means that instead of judging people, that I must love them, and look for ways that I can serve them. God isn't my Genie that I rub up against now and then when things aren't so convenient for me - and ask him to grant all of my wishes - he is my savior who wants a daily, personal relationship with me. It means that I will stop crucifying other Christians, that I will stand up for what I believe in - while loving others, and that I will not expect my pastor or my church to live out my Christianity for me.  

For the next fifty-two weeks or so, I am embarking on another life journey.  I am having our third baby, and it means more time at home building relationship with my husband and children, and trusting God to walk with us through each day.  I am expecting such good things, and knowing what I want, and how I am determined to live gives me challenges enough to fill the next year. It's not about perfection, it's about a sweetness of spirit and a determination to change, be proactive, and LIVE this great life.

How to Talk to your Husband...

Ok, so I know how to talk with my husband.  We do it all the time. We can talk anything nearly to death, other people’s parenting, religion, war, our families... - we basically have them all figured out. But, when real life hits, and there is no way to deny that the washing machine is truly fried, world war three threatens to erupt in the otherwise peaceful confines of our modest dwelling.  Why, you may ask, would two self-respecting, university educated adults, even bother with making war, not love, over something as clinically mundane as a washing machine?  The answer, my friends, is simple. I don’t know how to talk to my husband. We enter our battle ground armed with presuppositions, he assumes that I will never agree to own a front load washing machine, and I am horrified that he thinks that we only need a washing machine, and I am doomed to spend the rest of my days with a mismatched set, to be seen and judged by the masses...or, something like that.

So, in a nod to our good friends from Les Miserables, the barricades of dirty laundry rise up and each of us are armed and ready for...confrontation, battle, FULL ON WAR! Well, we went one round, and call me a mass of swirling, pregnancy hormones and heartburn, but I tossed up the off-white flag early.  You know the one I’m talking about, the one that says I need a minute to retreat, but don’t imagine in your wildest dreams that THIS is in any way FINISHED.  Retreat I did, to the safety of the upstairs couch,  and essentially he did too.  It seems when guys get frustrated they like to blow things up, being that we were fresh out of firepower - He reached for some computer game that would allow him the opportunity.  We sulked for a while, pacing our respective barricades.

To tell the truth, there was no way I was ready to apologize, or even agree with him. I knew I couldn’t go downstairs, or a rehashing of round one would likely occur with more casualites, and knew full well he wasn’t coming up to me - and I had a choice. I could either spend the entire rest of the evening crying, or we could work this out and get on with life. So, I sat there...desperately trying to work out what to do. In a last ditch effort, I reached for my laptop to start a conversation.  Not one that would demean him, or accuse him, one that would force me to read and essentially LISTEN to what he was saying instead of hearing only through my emotions, and I found out something interesting.

As we talked, it became clear to me very quickly, that we weren’t only talking about purchasing a washing machine.  We were talking about money, about how we saw one another, how we presumed the other felt or thought, and about how nine years of marriage has contributed to old, hurt feelings, and misunderstandings that were working their way into a fight about us, that was cleverly disguised as a conversation about a washing machine. Suddenly, that conversation was difficult and painful, and not so easy to navigate.  It took care and consideration on both of our parts, and figuring out what it was we were actually in conflict about, and speaking to each other frankly and kindly about the issues that came up. I would say, at the end of it all, it was certainly harder - but much more worth the effort. Instead of leaving me feeling angry, frustrated, and scared that I was disconnecting from the most important person to me, I think it helped us deal with a small part of our so-called baggage, and remember how much we really do love and cherish each other.  

Last weekend I witnessed a cousin marry the love of her life. I wanted to tell her, you know - you’re going to fight about these things, these weird things like washing machines, dishwashers, the garbage, but in that don’t forget that sometimes those fights are really about something else, but if you can look at it as a way to build up your relationship, it will be more than worth the effort. 

Not the Perfect Mom

Tonight didn't go how I wanted it to go.  Not at all.  It's the first time in a while that the kids and I have had an evening to ourselves.  They're in bed now, and I'm sitting on the couch, wondering if they know the truth. The truth is, that I missed them all day today.  Every time, I calmed a screaming child, or changed yet another poop-drenched diaper, or laughed or held or cuddled a baby, in my heart of hearts, I was doing for my own kids - hoping they had the same love, care and attention from their daycare provider today.  I miss having fun with them, and hoarding all the time I want with them, and the only thing that I want to do when I get home is to see them and hug them, and hug them, and hug them.  That's not the truth I showed them tonight.

But, tonight went more like this...barking orders, annoyed corrections, and short patience, a fumbled meal, exhausted frustrations, and rushed bedtimes.  Not what I wanted, not nearly close to what I planned.  Instead of a sweet, loving and gentle Mom, they get this frazzled, middle-aged, pregnant woman who doesn't know how to bridge the divide between the Mom she is, and the Mom she wants to be, who, in the meantime, is what they are stuck with.

I clearly don't know all the answers. I couldn't even attempt to string them together into a outcome based list at this point...but the only thing that really spurs me forward, that really encourages me to keep going - is maybe that Mom I plan to be, I actually am, sometimes.  The rest of the time, if I at least keep her in my sights, then I have something to aim for. And maybe, just maybe, that one day, in the future, when my own kids have kids, they may not forget all the times their Mom fell apart, but they will be able to forgive me for it, and remember the other times when I held it together - and know that those times are really what shaped their childhood.

I've stopped striving for perfection. I already know it's unreachable, a standard that defines itself by the constant comparison between itself and day to day failures.  Instead I want to strive tomorrow to be better than I am today, and the day after, and the day after....always keeping in focus a great deal of grace, mercy, love, peace and gentleness.

Mean White Girls

I just recently started a job where I work with a completely female staff.  One really nice thing is that this job hires all ethnicities, races and religions.  Interestingly, that's a first from my experience, and I have found that I rather like it.  Learning about someone, who they are and where they come from are a fascinating part of my day.  However, I have noticed something strange, overall, (with a few exceptions of course) the women who have made me feel the most welcome, and part of the group, have been the beautiful ladies, largely of racial backgrounds other than "white" girls. Now, I am not saying that this is a fair judgement or assessment by any means, but it is the white girls who have the tendency to come across as self-centered, rude and generally unfriendly.  

I've spent a lot of time mulling this over.  Is this a localized phenomenon?  Is it simply a personality clash? I can't expect to get along with everyone.  Is it because I am not in the position to really get to know them? Is it a broken reflection of Caucasian culture? Or, is it me? Am I actually the same way?Am I unwelcoming and suspicious of people who are new to my environment?

Daring to hazard a guess, I would say it is possibly the way that I am perceiving the situation, by oversimplifying complex, long term work relationships.  However, it started to make me wonder, would I behave the same way if I wasn't the one desperate to make an "adult" human connection to embrace during a day filled with never-ending demands from tiny lips and adorable faces?  Do I react this way when a new-comer (a new white girl) is trying to become a part of my world?  

It deeply saddens me to remember times when I have behaved coldly, not allowing someone new in my world the simple comfort and of easy, friendly acceptance.  In the grand scheme of things, a small kindness is not requiring the other to prove their own worth.  

As a Christian, I want to believe that my belief system of loving others, and accepting others as they are comes naturally to me, but maybe it's not as natural as I thought.  Maybe it takes effort, the effort to step outside of the insecurities I have built within myself, perhaps to even step outside of my own cultural limitations in being kind and loving to ladies from all cultures - even my own.  To not see every other white woman as a threat, judging her immediately without giving her the same benefit of doubt that I would enjoy myself. 

Through all of these new experiences, I am learning that I don't have to be defensive or caustic, that what other people express is more about me than about them, and it's my job to love them where they're at.  To be kind to them no matter how they respond to me...especially to the white girls.