Cricket in a Biscuit

At some point today, the thought struck that maybe I should start a podcast. I was watching one while working on a project and chatting with people in my challenge group, and just mulling over what I'd accomplished so far today — quite a bit, and what still needed to be done — even more. We are always going somewhere, doing something, working on a million things — just like everybody else these days, and I thought it would be a fun way to show that there is time for health and hobbies and family and everything else. It would also be a fun way to bring together the two disparate things which take up the majority of my free time. Clearly, if I decide to continue with this, better equipment is a top priority. The built in camera of 10 year old computer is not optimal! There is also no more storage on my phone, so that would be something to work out. Also, I need a name. Thoughts? What's a good name for a podcast by and about the life of a stay at home mom who spins her own y...

Spend any time on social media, and you are bound to notice the body positivity movement. It seems to be everywhere, and overall, I think it's a good thing. Our value is not derived from our outward appearance, but from our being created in the image of God, each unique but with the same dignity and equally deserving of respect. There is one aspect of the movement, however, which gives me pause. I have had a very public weight transformation. The first time it was shared on a wide forum, the Shakeology blog and Facebook page, the comments were very positive and supportive. It was a fun, exciting experience. Some time later, my transformation was shared on Autumn Calabrese's Facebook page . Most of the comments were positive, but negativity began to creep in. There were probably a couple reasons for that. First, I think Autumn's post had a wider reach and a more diverse audience. Also, the portion of my story featured by the second post was more appearance oriented. Sam...

For the small price of two pairs of child-size mittens, I have been given three rather large bags full of freshly shorn wool. After spending several hours picking through the first fleece, I've come to several conclusions.  First, the possibilities are endless. There is a lot  of wool there, and two of the bags are multicolored, which means I can separate and mix and blend to my heart's content.  Second, this is going to take forever! It is very liberating to be given a large amount of wool in one shot. I've purchased a couple fleeces, and, while I've never bought anything really fancy, it's still a large investment, which makes it hard to throw any of it away. With three giant garbage bags of wool at my disposal, it is easier to part with the less desirable parts of the the fleece. Anything that's really  dirty or packed with hay —gone! It seems wasteful at first, but it will make for better yarn in the long run.  I've also come to realize I may have to do ...

Chatting with a friend today, I was reminded of something I hadn't thought of in a while, the saving power of a baby's first smile. Being a first time mom is hard — soul-crushing, overwhelming and desperately hard — especially if you're the first one in your family or friend group to have kids. You're tired and sore, totally clueless and nobody in your immediate circle really knows what you're feeling. You want so badly to get it right, but the baby can only cry, which makes a new mom feel as though they are getting it all wrong. There is no positive feedback, whatsoever. A newborn can't even really maintain eye contact. Soft snores are about the only indicator you haven't screwed up within the last five minutes. Then there is the hesitance to say anything, because we are supposed to be so happy and so in love, like our whole world is wrapped in rose colored gauze. Me as a new mom, holding on for dear life. It doesn't  seem possible this was ...

I am really uncomfortable talking about myself. Blogging is easier. Face to face conversation is really hard, especially if it is about my appearance. Once, while dress shopping, the clerk asked what I was looking for. I told her if I knew the wallpaper of the room I was to be in, I would dress to match. I don't like to be noticed. The background is my comfort zone.  When I had lost enough weight people started to comment on it, I would get all squirmy and mumble something like, "Yeah, I've lost a few pounds." Even after it was upwards of 35, I was still mumbling about a "few pounds." Now, I'm getting squirmy for a new reason. People are starting to tell me I need to stop losing, or they think I'm going too far or not eating enough. My mumbled responses are, "I'm actually not losing any more," and "Oh, I eat!"  Lunch today: Peanut butter toast with a lettuce and spinach salad with pork, blue cheese and raspberr...

Something I started for me has come to mean a whole lot more… for my entire family This post is for all those hard-working, self-sacrificing moms. I say moms because I am one, but really it goes for all caregivers. I want to ask you this question. How many nights each week do you lay down for the night and realize you've done nothing for yourself? You spend the entirety of your days running around taking care of other people, making sure their needs are met, but you never manage to work far enough down the to-do list to reach your name. Ainsleigh helping me warm up with some Supermans That's where I was for a very long time. Sure, my most basic needs were met. Obviously I ate regularly, mainly because I was making meals for everyone else. When Laney was just tiny, I didn't always eat, because there was no one to cook for. I had clothes to wear and a roof over my head, but I would go to bed each night feeling completely neglected. I tried explaining this Darren...

This teriyaki flavored noodle dish was a spontaneous creation resulting from a total change in direction in the middle of the dinner-making process. It went over really well, so I thought I would pass it on. Given the size of my family, one would think it essential for me to be super organized with meals. Sometimes I do plan ahead, especially for dishes requiring special ingredients. However, most days go more like this. Around lunch time, I pull something from the freezer and throw it in water with the fervent hope it will be thawed before I need to start cooking. I let ideas percolate in the back of my mind, and, by three o'clock, usually have a pretty good idea of what I'm going to make. At four o'clock, I start cooking and we eat sometime after five. The night I made this, I had taken out a pack of chicken breasts, the big split ones with the skin and bones, because they were on sale. I was pretty set on making Alfredo. The plan was to use two of the breasts in ...