Adventures in Freezer Meals

Ok, so I know I'm not one of those "Practical" Bloggers, I like to get what's in my head out. BUT - For those of you who enjoy a more practical look at life, and who appreciate a challenge will want to know about our day of "40 Freezer Meals in 4 Hours."

Everyone knows that when the two adults in the house are back at work, dinner time can take a significant hit. To save some time, we didn't reinvent the wheel, instead we borrowed a set of recipes from a website and went from there.

http://whoneedsacape.com/2012/11/crockpot-freezer-cooking/

The woman who writes this website miraculously made all forty freezer meals in four hours, and had a clean kitchen, and it seems that she did it all on her own. We learned that in the past few days, that is something akin to running a marathon. HOWEVER, if there are two willing participants in your household, with two days, a wad of cash and nothing to do, why not give it a try.  You can call it a "Marriage Strengthening Exercise".

We started out yesterday, and between the items we already had and the items we needed to purchase, we had all of our shopping done in visits to two stores in about exactly two hours.  Now, many of the Freezer Meals websites claim that they were able to stock their freezers for around $250.  We weren't quite that successful, but we attributed that to the fact that a lot of these estimates come from bloggers in the USA, and meat prices down there are...well, enviable to say the least.  The protein component was definitely the most cost consuming, and the sheer amount makes me believe that Costco now has our pictures posted in the poultry department with a big WARNING sign over our heads.  However, even though the cost was higher, it is a fraction of the cost of using a weekly meal plan over two months.

This morning was prep time.  It took us around two hours to get all veggies and meat diced, chopped and ready to go.  I would say the only frustration at this point was translating some of the required amounts from the recipes to actual amounts for prep.  For example, I peeled 18 cloves of garlic, when I should have peeled more like 30, but those little kinks were easy to work out, and because I chose a working partner who is also a genius, our amounts were right on.

 

I would say the more challenging part came in putting the meals together. We started out by laying out the recipes and the already prepped freezer bags, it helped us keep everything organized. We set up a sort of assembly line, and decided to work through each recipe, one at a time, in order to make sure that we didn't miss any ingredient in any meal.  Amazingly enough, we hardly had any leftovers.

The Results -

Well, we weren't able to finish in four hours, it took us about six (and our kitchen looks a little like something exploded in there), but we were able to create 43 freezer to crock pot meals. We are really excited about the overall cost and time savings - after all, my most dreaded Saturday morning task is always trying to figure out what to eat for the week. Not to mention we are eager to try out the many different recipes that we worked on putting together this afternoon.

So, if you are interested in trying a little experiment of your own, let me know! I'll be sure to do a followup to let you know how they all turned out!

Lessons from the Unemployment Line

When I started this "journey" over six months ago, I had this idea that I knew what life was all about - that I knew what I was all about.  I thought that all I needed was for a job to come along, a job that would justify my decisions, that would affirm my identity, and that would give me self confidence and fix all the problems in my marriage, my home, my life.  Pretty tall order, huh? All I needed to do was get a job, so I could be the one to provide for my family.  I didn't see it coming, but it all seemed to be a perfect recipe for change.

1. Finding God in Spilled Milk

Ok, so yes - Stay-At-Home Moms have perks.  I've never been able to sleep through the latter half of SVU on the job - but honestly my attitude toward these special ladies has gone through transformation.  There have been times that I loved staying home, being with my kids and experiencing every special moment with them, but I am ashamed to say that there were moments where I lost my identity, my self-control, and was selfish - playing the victim stuck with all of the work.  There were days I sat, not accomplishing anything productive, merely because I had lost my identity.  What is the most common question when you meet someone new? What kind of work do you do? Suddenly, I didn't have an answer to that, when I was teaching I was always proud to say, I'm a teacher - like I was out impacting the lives of my students at every possible moment, like I knew something, like in that statement someone could derive the fact that I was confident, knowledgeable, and an expert in my field.  Worthy of their friendship, attention and praise.  Now, what could I say? Oh - I'm a stay at home Mom - I do diapers, unpopular lunches, spilled milk and tantrums. It was like I could hear what they were thinking about me, because I knew what I was thinking about Stay-At-Home Moms.  I had this idea that they were women who had married wealthy husbands, who were uneducated, women who were able to spend their time shopping, on manicures, and lunch dates with their friends.  I was jealous of their fine homes, lovely Mom cars, and perfectly dressed children. Coming face to face with that ugly prejudice shook me. I was jealous, and I was wrong.  Stay-At-Home Moms sacrifice, giving whatever they have to create the very best life for their children, they build their identities without any affirmation from any "job", and they work as hard as any person who goes to work.  Staying at home with my kids was a blessing that not many get, having the chance to get to know them, and experience the day to day was priceless.  To all my sweet ladies, my Dear Stay-At-Home Moms, you are important, you are treasured.  God has given you such a huge responsibility, and you carry it with grace and compassion. You may never be recognized for all that you do, or promoted to CEO of the house, but you have been given the most important job in the world, and your Heavenly Father lies your identity. Forgive me for not understanding. I understand now, and at the deepest part of me I am sad to leave it behind for now. 

2. Anger Disguised as Victimization is Still Anger...

When I left the job I had at VCS, I was angry.  When I left the job I had at EMA, I was angry.   Neither situation had been "fair", and in both I found myself feeling caged, backed into a corner with no recourse, in the first I'd had a job ripped from me that I had loved because of what other people had done.  I had been forced to choose between what was right and a place where my heart was. I ached for it, like a legitimate loss.  In the second I felt wronged, accused of something that was unthinkable for me, that destroyed my confidence in a job that I loved.  It was easy to be the victim. To sit and cry over all that had happened to me, to blame God for leaving me all alone.  It was easy to believe as I was rejected in job after job that though I was supposed to provide for my family, God wasn't letting me. It just added to my ideas that God had left me all alone.  I couldn't believe it when people said, God has the perfect job out there for you. God loves you. It just added to my belief that it was up to me, and I was all alone.  It was strange to recognize my broken, hurt, bruised feelings of being a victim, as a fierce anger. All because I believed that I wasn't a good teacher, that I wasn't worth a job, and that for all I thought I stood for - I had been proven a fool.  The only thing harder than letting it all go - was realizing that I was angry. It wasn't even a useful anger, it was just deep and festering, feeding on my soul - lashing out at the people I love the most.  Dealing with anger comes out in tears. There have been many tears, but I'm not angry any more.

3.  The End Doesn't Come, Till the Journey is Begun

When I started on this journey I thought I knew the answer. All I needed was a job.  The right job to prove that I was worthy, and boy did I imagine what that meant. It meant a big salary at a prestigious school, it meant an important job at a University, it meant recognition and honor.  All I had to do, was go and get the job that I deserved.  It wasn't until about three or four months into this whole experience that I realized that what I planned, wasn't working out - nor would it ever.  It was realizing that I was waiting for an EVENT to save me, rather than waiting for what God had for me, and he clearly hadn't finished.  So, I started to change, and the letting go was hard, but there was freedom on the other side.  It came in experiences...many experiences, where I had to work to see what God had in it for me.  The most unexpected things - like a new baby, a new pregnancy - pushed me to start to trust, like I never have before.  I am a planner, I like to do things in an orderly fashion,  a mature, and well thought out fashion, and there was more than one time that I called myself irresponsible.  It took something that life altering to make me take notice, to turn to God for answers I didn't have.

4. A New Start 

I think it all came together not even a week ago, when a conversation I had with several people started to sound familiar, started to make sense.  It can be broken down very easily. 
I had to come to a place where I honestly believe that God loves me so much that I need to put myself aside. To realize, God is the provider for my family, not me. If I believe that God is indeed my provider, then he will provide for us, no matter what it looks like.  That providing for my family is out of my hands. There is freedom in that - so much freedom.  It's what gave me the confidence to walk into not one, but two interviews this week, and be offered both jobs. Not because those interviewers saw me, but they saw Christ in me, the confidence and trust I have in him.  It's a new job, a new baby, a new me. Not perfect, not yet, but learning. I look forward to this adventure with Christ in me. 

ME: By Design

I'm not one for New Years Resolutions, I think it could be because I hate when they end up to be empty on me.  Lost somewhere in January when I finally delve into a bowl of pasta, or eat a third handful of the chocolate covered raisins in a kitchen raid.  Now, I'm not celebrating an unhealthy lifestyle, and believe that every day I need to be taking steps to be healthier in soul, mind and body but I saw something tonight that made me take pause. 

I often torture my husband with questions like, "Do I look fat?" or "Does this outfit make me look stupid?", you know those questions that really don't have a safe or positive answer. In fact, they are only questions spoken out of that hole of insecurity, that place of not feeling like quite "enough." Tonight, due to a small hiccup with Netflix, I was stuck watching ET Canada's New Years "Nip-Tuck" special.  What I saw made me both envious and sad.  Envious because I can relate to the desire to LOOK perfect, and what if I just had the finances? I too, could look like them. THEM. Those thin, perfectly shaped, beautifully sculpted women who were the main patients subjecting themselves to painful surgery in order to be perfecter? That's what made me sad. Watching these beautiful women say, after their surgeries, that now they have "so much more confidence". What?? I wanted to shout. Do you hear what you're saying? I think it was about then I realized something. Even if there came a day where I did look like those women - absolutely beautiful - I would still not feel that way because it is all surface.  

I don't think that I will ever stop caring fully about what I look like, or how I appear, because I don't think that's the answer - changing the way I look at myself however would be time better spent. Over Christmas I've had time to reflect on what's really important. Like the tears that come to my eyes now as I explain to my kids that I'll be going back to work soon - which is what I've been after since the day I stopped, but here I am all emotional about having to go back.  On Christmas Eve we got a call from my Dad's work, telling us there had been an accident. I can tell you, as our collective breath was sucked out of the room my thoughts were only with my family, and how I could help now. Praise God, my Dad is going to be alright, but wow, my focus changed in an instant and I could tell you all of the things that were important, my hair, my weight was the least of them. 

So t0 2014, I'll be looking for the blessings, for the good, loving those around me with words, and knowing that I have been created by the living God, to be Me. I'm not saying it will be perfect, but I have started to think that perfection is overrated. Once something has been declared perfect, it has to stay that way, unadulterated forever, or else it falls so far that status can never be reestablished. So to you, my dear friends and readers, look at your design with purpose, hope and joy.  Remember that God's love and miracles come in the everyday little details. 

Happy 2014. 

What Love Looks Like

I have some friends starting new marriages, and new relationships. It makes me happy to watch them, they gaze adoringly into each others eyes, laugh at their own private jokes, and when they are apart, the other is all they talk about.  This side of love is the most familiar to me, it's what people would commonly recognize as "love", and to be honest, sometimes I miss it. In conversation with these friends, it has come up now and then, that they are worried for what things will be like in their relationship when this "phase" is going to end, as it inevitably will, if their relationship is growing. 

I don't really remember when that changed in my relationship with my husband, it was small, and over time, so there was no cause to mourn its passing. However, it has left me with other questions, and those are, what then, does love look like? How do I still show him that I love him? Do I miss "love" when it comes from him, because it looks different than it once did? How can I be sure I haven't sunk into apathy, taking everything for granted, longing for something that I've long grown out of?

Well, recently I've been challenged to focus on the positives of my relationship, rather than on the negatives.  Hearing that is surprising. I thought, that won't be hard. In fact, I assumed that was the habit I had created over our marriage, but after a couple of weeks of trying, I realized that in fact the opposite was true. I had been focused only on the "have-nots" and the "I wants" of our relationship. It had brought us into some pretty destructive arguments, with the two of us walking away from each other wondering how on earth we had ever been in the "Romance" phase of love at all. There were days when I actually wondered how two complete opposites had ended up together, coupled with the terrifying adage "we made a mistake", and I knew our marriage was headed to the dark places that no one in the light of romance ever wants to go.

It was at this critical moment when I received the advice, that I needed to focus on the positives about my husband, rather than the negatives.  Basic - yes, life changing - incredibly. It was easy to recognize that my husband isn't perfect and harder to know that he can't necessarily fill all of the "have-nots" I have so dutifully laid out for him, and even harder to recognize that I was equally as imperfect as him, and I was not filling all of his "have-nots" and I might never be able to do that.  It was at that point, that Love started to look differently for us. It started to be things like cleaning the kitchen together after a meal, to talk and spend a bit of time reconnecting, and deeply appreciating little things, his smile and easy manner with our kids, and how he cares about me before himself - I was awake most of last night, and this morning, he quietly got up, made arrangements with work, and brought our son to school without disturbing me. 

I'm not saying we're perfect, we're certainly a long way from there, but when love starts to look differently to you, remember to focus on the positive, at least it's a place to start.

"God Bless Us, Every one!" - A Christmas Carol

We had this family tradition growing up, where we would watch all of the best old Christmas movies as the snow, reflected in the light of the oversize Christmas bulbs, piled up outside.  Though it first appeared in a grainy black and white, and then later as told by Muppets, A Christmas Carol has always been one of my favorites.

Ok, so I know that this is an iconic book that has been since turned into movies and plays, but it made literature accessible to me, even as a small child, and it was then I grew to love it.  Not to mention the fact that it is absolutely filled with all of those hidden gems that have the power to make people find the truth about themselves and the season.

If I could work my will...Every idiot who goes about with Merry Christmas on his lips should be boiled with his own turkey, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart! (Scrooge)

I always laugh at this line. Maybe it's just me, but when I think about attempting to pack up the kids, and hit the overcrowded, stuffy malls, to be assaulted with seventeen versions of tinny Christmas tunes, to wait in horrendously long lines only to over pay for some trinket that will be broken or lost within the year, and that will likely be 50% off on Boxing Day makes me think that this statement isn't too far off.  But, maybe that's where this play makes it's mark. We lose the spirit of Christmas putting pressure on ourselves, and our charity for the rest of mankind tends to go right out the window.  People in a store suddenly aren't people, but obstacles, and it's easy to begrudge anyone who is smiling.

Scrooge: What business has brought you here?

Spirit: Your welfare.

Scrooge: A night's unbroken rest, might aid my welfare.

Spirit: Your salvation then.

I've always liked this one too, though I can't confirm if it was in the  book, play or appeared only in the Muppet movie version, but this exchange stands out to me.  Maybe because it sounds like me. Leave me alone, let me be, I just need some sleep.  It's hard to recognize when you need to change, to take a deep look at yourself and pull out those things from the past, and present that are choking out your future.  As someone in the midst of change, it's not easy, or comfortable, and it hurts.  Lately, I've had to look at myself, and admit that I'm not right all the time, or justified in my actions.  That I treat people badly, especially people who are close to me.  Yet, I'm not past all hope. Sometimes change comes into your life as a force for good, for salvation it seems.    

It is a fair, even-handed, noble adjustment of things, that while there is infection in disease and sorrow, there is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good humor. - Charles Dickens

The message of this story, to live our lives in love and kindness, in the Spirit of Christmas each and every day of the year, to set aside selfishness, and ignorance of the plight of others, and to love one another is profound.  I find it useful as a yearly reminder, that all of the blessings of this life come most importantly through the way we love other people. It's a standard I keep setting for myself.  A goal that no matter what comes my way, I will treat the people around me with dignity and kindness.  That I will never walk by someone who needs me, and believe that in some small way I can make a difference for other people. 

I wish I could touch on every bit of this story that has made an impact on me, but if I did, this post would end up far too long. So, I'll leave you with the last, and the very best.

I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it through the year. I will live in the Past, the Present and the Future. The Spirits of all three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach.

Dedicated to all of those wonderful actors who bring this story to light as Edmonton's tradition, each year at the Citadel Theatre.

Paper Snowflakes

In an effort to make some sense of being a "For-the-moment-stay-at-home-Mom," I devised a bit of a schedule in order to keep me on track, give me a sense of the job that I am doing, and give me purpose during the day.  With M off to school, and O blossoming with bucketfuls of two-year old charm and charisma one scheduled activity that seemed to be of significant importance for all of us was the short hour after dinner poorly designated "family time". 

It's a time of night that I try to come up with a simple activity that we can all do together as a family. Being that winter is indeed here, in Edmonton, and the fact that my precious M needs to build some fine motor skills through scissor use, I thought - why not snowflakes? Knowing that Miss O would likely make significant improvements to both her clothes and her hair, if granted the opportunity to wield scissors, I decided that she and I would run the glue-n'-glitter department. 

The cutting commenced, and in a blizzard of tiny bits of paper, drifts of glue, and showers of glitter about twenty unique creations emerged to be hung in the place of honor, our front window.  As each one was cut, I was struck again by the intricate uniqueness and subsequent beauty of each piece.  Not only that, it was lots of fun to watch M's amazement as to him, he made seemingly random cuts, and when each snowflake opened it was different from the last.  It reminded me about something, that every now and then I forget as a Mom.  I feel like I have it all figured out, that I have my kids pegged, and ultimately I hit a situation I didn't see coming, and I find myself up against the curve ball called "parenting".  What works with one, should theoretically work with the other, shouldn't it? But, it doesn't .

I think I've finally learned that being a parent doesn't exist as a formulaic response, instead my children, and even me are reflected within the uniqueness of the snowflake. Each of us unique and beautiful, and we each require a unique response to the delicate situations that arise in our lives. When we come together, our own strengths compliment each other. There have been countless times, as parents, when one of us, either Brad, or myself finally reach the very end of our rope in dealing with the kids, and as seamlessly as if the other is not even affected, we tag team each other and the other steps in with some kind of other-worldly wisdom, and a problem with the kids comes to a solution.

Just after we were finished breathing in the uniqueness of one another with our snowflakes, Brad and I faced that very situation with M. He has fought us on an issue since he was three years old, the battles were becoming more frequent, and we were in danger of losing the war.  No, not the war as in, the fight, but instead the war that all parents fight to keep the values of family, the cohesiveness of uniqueness working together. When our individual strength was depleted and Brad and I were able to use our own strengths to support one another, to calm down and work with our bright, interesting, little boy, to bring about a new focus on Shalom. But, it required all three of us, a recognition of our created uniqueness, to bring an answer about.  In fact, Brad answered M's questions by showing him the picture below. He found it, when I never could have - and the problem we'd faced as a family, as battle after battle, became something much more simple.
To you, remember your own uniqueness.  Take time to recognize it in others - especially for those who are closest to you.  I think now, that sometimes in recognizing who we are created to be, it helps us get through the little battles that we are presented with daily. 

God Bless You.

Parachute Packing and Other Odd Jobs

I thought of this post this past week, when I was in between a job interview - and finding out that the job went to someone else. I was thinking it would work well with the theme of what I was hoping to be my new job, but it didn't quite turn out that way. 

When I was young, my Dad introduced us to the story of Captain Charlie Plumb. He was a fighter pilot on the aircraft carrier Kitty Hawk, and his plane was shot down over Vietnam where he remained a prisoner of war for several years.  He was released and eventually returned to the United States, where one evening several years later he had a conversation with a man, a sailor, also stationed on the Kitty Hawk and worked aboard as a parachute packer - incidentally he had packed Captain Plumb's parachute, which had saved the pilot's life.  Captain Charlie Plumb is now a motivational speaker with a strong message that he uses to impact people's lives.

This concept has been floating around in my head as I try to follow God's leading toward new employment.  Metaphorically, the parachute packer is someone who works behind the scenes, someone who is diligent in the tasks that they have been given in order to see others well protected, and advance in their own lives.  I equated getting this new job to be something like that, I would be a parachute packer for university students wanting to become teachers.  But, hearing that another person has been chosen for the job, gave me pause.  What am I supposed to do now? Then it occurred to me, that this blog post idea is still ideal, no matter if I had this new job, or not.

I'm not famous, nor do I desire to be. I've always been comfortable working in the background. I think it's part of the reason I became a teacher.  I like the background work and preparation, thinking about the lessons I plan in order to impact students lives.  Interestingly the place that I am in right now lends itself very well to parachute packing, working behind the scenes to build others up, to speak into their lives and offer love, help and support wherever I can. For my kids, it means being the Mom that they need for right now.  These things that I consider to be so little, and of no great importance are instead the critical things that matter the most, or will matter the most one day. The first thing you want to know after you jump out of a burning plane, is that your parachute will open, no matter what.  

So, it's a question I've been asking myself lately...who's parachute are you packing?