Christmas Noodles

I married into a yummy Christmas tradition.  For dinner Christmas Eve, we have homemade noodles.  Grandma made them for years, but a few Christmases back, she passed it on to me.  Making them together that year is a wonderful memory.  Flour in the air, Grandma in her apron... it doesn't get much better.

Now, every year, the day before Christmas Eve I make a growing number of noodles.  (I cooked for 28 this year.)  Christmas Eve I cook chickens with onions and celery, rip it into pieces (add broth if necessary, but it's not a runny soup) then throw in the noodles.  Some like to eat it on top of mashed potatoes--like the world's best gravy!--but I love it all alone.

Noodles:  2 cups flour, 1 tsp. salt, 2 eggs, 3 TB cream
Mix together (hands will be needed) roll as thin as you can, cut into thin strips--sprinkle flour everywhere (be sure to get some in your hair)

Merry Christmas everyone.

So Many... So Cute

Just in case you thought I was putting the same kid in different shoes, here is a picture of a big group of kiddos all together.  Most of them will be running out the door to the bus in a few moments, and some of them are not here yet, but you get the idea. :)

Lying Shoes

In the time it took me to change a diaper my three-year old just scooted a stool over to the counter, stood on it, got the bag of Cadbury chocolate balls out, moved the stool to get the scissors out of the knife block on the other counter, cut the bag open, popped a candy in his mouth, hid the bag, and put the stool back.

Then, he came waltzing in to the room where I was, and I noticed he was chewing something, and there was chocolate around his mouth.

"What do you have in your mouth?" I queried.

He opened his mouth to display the candy-coated chocolate goodness and replied, "a cheese stick."

Triple Threat Tuesday

Between the Trouble Twins and the Rebel I had my hands FULL this morning.  One of them tripped and bit his lip, another fell off the couch--catching himself with his head.  My desk drawers were pulled out more than once, movie cabinet gotten into (where did I put that key?!?), books scattered, piano pounded...  the Rebel bonked one of the boys with a clipboard, the brother retaliated with a poke in the eye... You get the picture.  Busy, busy, busy.  Thank heaven the baby took a two-hour nap during the mayhem.  They are adorable, and so much fun, but I can't say that I was sorry when the twins' Mom showed up.  Mothers of multiples, I salute you!

"Hooker" Boots

Dear Mr. Findlay believes there are three classifications for boots.  Hiking boots, cowboy boots, and hooker boots.  Even my brown fuzzy "eskimo" boots (that's what the kids call them) are considered hooker boots.  Even though it would be quite obvious to anyone else that only the most practical of working girls would consider them appropriate for her line of work.
Of the three types of boots, the only ones he really approves of are hiking boots.  Unfortunately for him, our climate is not exactly designed for me to wear cute strappy things all year, and I can't exactly pair my hiking boots with a skirt.  He is vaguely annoyed any time I wear "hooker" boots.  Slightly more annoyed any time I buy a new pair.  I think cowboy boots might be grounds for divorce in his book.

Yummy Shoes

Ok, obviously it is not the shoes that are yummy, but the food they bring to my table is delicious.  I went to lunch at Tucanos with some of my family yesterday.  Along with four children (all FREE, thank you very much).  Their salad bar is not my favorite--although I do love the mashed potatoes--but when you flip that little stick over to green and they start bringing skewers of savory meats, that mango cod, and juicy rotisserie pineapple glazed with brown sugar (!) I am in heaven!

Under-used shoes

These are my running shoes:

You may notice that they are the same as my every-day shoes (except for color).  If you look closely you might be able to tell that they are on a treadmill track.  Saucony makes wonderful running shoes.  My friends wear them for marathons.  I wear them for every-day because they are comfortable, and seem to hit my non-existant arches in the right places.  Last time I needed new shoes I bought two pair, one for every-day and one for my treadmill (so they stay clean and lovely and won't hurt my track).  Would you like to guess which ones will wear out first?

FAVORITE shoes

These shoes belong to a dear friend.  She is one of the major contributors to my sanity.  She owns a cleaning business, and comes to my house once a week.  A home with so many children running in and out of it does not stay clean.  Especially the bathroom that the little cherubs frequent.  Often it is all I can do to pick up the toys and keep the dishes and laundry clean.  (Laundry clean, not folded--I'm working on that.)  Often I walk past the bathroom and just shut the door.  I don't want to see (or smell!) in there.  It causes panic attacks.  Just when I think the mess is going to swallow me whole, my savior waltzes in with her yellow gloves.  Two hours later the house smells fresh, my toilets gleam, and I no longer stick to the kitchen floor.
Bless you, bless you, dear, dear friend.

[PS. Anticipating questioning readers, yes, she truly is my friend.  I have known her many more years than she has known the shameful state of my lavatories.  Also, "savior" is not too strong a word.  'Savior' is one who delivers or rescues from peril.  Her weekly visits definitely deliver me from emotional--and possibly physical--peril.]

Another Miracle

I believe we experience small miracles on a daily basis.  Little things that can reassure us that we are not alone.

Robert D. Hales has said,

Generally, those miracles will not be physical demonstrations of God’s power—parting of the Red Sea, raising of the dead, breaking down prison walls, or the appearance of heavenly messengers. By design, most miracles are spiritual demonstrations of God’s power—tender mercies gently bestowed through impressions, ideas, feelings of assurance, solutions to problems, strength to meet challenges, and comfort to bear disappointments and sorrow.

 I think it is often easy to overlook these minor miracles.  So often we take for granted the good things in our lives, and only sit up and pay attention when something bad happens.  If you are looking for the good in life, you will surely find it.
Today's minor miracle--5 children napping [or convincingly pretending to] at once.  That means I have a silent house.  At least for the moment.  Did I say "minor"?  I meant amazingly awesome! :)

Today's Minor Miracle

Despite having four children under the age of two at my house today--plus two 3-year olds, and a 4-year old to make things interesting--I finished all my leftover dishes from Thanksgiving.  Even the pie pans!  Before lunch!

Of course, to balance things out, we had to have a minor mishap.  My 3-year old dumped a bag of pecans out on the kitchen floor.  This made me more angry than a spill normally would.  My floor was not clean enough to keep them, and pecans are expensive!

This picture is deceptive, there were at least 3 cups worth. Pth. :-P