Confession Wednesday: Board Games

My 13yo daughter and I went to a self-defense class at this fine establishment last week, along with several other women and teenaged girls from church. It was a fantastic presentation; I highly recommend it! (They do the class for free, but they accept donations made out to the Dunn House, a local shelter for abused women and children.)

It was a little out of my comfort zone when they had us line up and practice kicking targets held up by the instructors. I also felt just a little strange when I had to grab Mrs. V by the neck so she could practice getting away. (It's a slick move, but please warn me if you're about to throttle me so I can have a moment to remember exactly how it goes.)

They ended the class by having each of us kick a pine board in half, 3 kickers at a time, in front of the whole group. The proper stance requires you to stick your hip out at the kneeling male instructor (who may or may not be somebody you see on a regular basis because he's the father of your daughter's school friend).

The public call for grace, balance, and depth perception automatically activated my OhboyIthinkIhearmymothercalling reflex, but of course the Year of No Fear (as well as a few women in the group who know me too well) dictated that I not weasel out of it. So I didn't. I got it on Kick #2, after shaving my calf (it's ok, it needs shaving) on the edge of the board on Kick #1.

The board actually broke so easily that I suspect I was given a go-easy-on-her-and-give-her-the-pansy-board board. Good call.

In other news, I ate a portion-cupful of Jelly Bellies while driving a few nights ago. See how I'm living on the edge? See?

(Because ambiguously-colored candies are a risky move even in daylight. It's like Buddy and the Jack-in-the-Boxes on Elf, except with flavors.)

FYI: Among other flavors, there were 2 licorice, 3 coffee, and 2 tastes-like-what-electrical-fire-smells-like in one tiny cupful. GROSS! Thank goodness they don't make cilantro ones yet.

When is the last time you were out of your comfort zone, and what did you do about it?

Confession Wednesday: 10 minutes until Thursday!

I quit my job. That’s my most recent leap of courage.

I don’t know if it’s exactly a real job; photography has been my hobby since I was 16, and friends have been kind enough with their referrals that it had become supplementary income for my family. I couldn’t actually have supported a household of any size on my income alone, but when cars broke down, or when there were visits to the emergency room, it was almighty helpful income.

But I’m a miserable multi-tasker. I’m all too easily overwhelmed, and I was spending a LOT of time overwhelmed. I won’t go into details (I already tried and deleted three times), but my children were pretty much raising themselves. As a mother, I was feeling like a total, utter failure.

So I’ve cut my business back to just standing trades only (so don’t worry if I owe you pictures!). Turning business away is the hardest part . . . I’m horrible at saying no . . . and it’s usually people I know and love that are asking.

Also, quite frankly, aside from the income that will clearly be missed, I’m going to miss seeing my work on other people’s walls, blogs, and facebook profiles. Call me an egomaniac if you will, but it gives me a little thrill every time.

However, since things have lightened up, it’s just as I suspected: My kitchen is cleaner, I’m sleeping more, and I’m remembering to pick up my kindergartener on time (on the days I can find my keys . . . thanks again for bailing me out Jill!). I can even do math in my head again, which means that I can figure out (and also that I care) whether it’s cheaper to brush the bread dough with egg whites or with butter (here’s my Wednesday Confession: It’s really margarine, and it’s cheaper than the egg.) before I bake it. Did I mention I’m baking bread? Right now?

But you know what else? My little kids are cuter than usual. And the big ones are funnier lately. I can’t stop watching their faces, and laughing at the sweet things they do. I find myself thinking: What if I had missed this?

And then wincing as I wonder: How much have I already missed?

And then being grateful that I'm on a make-your-own-bread-with-margarine-and-nobody-break-any-bones-this-month kind of budget, because not making extra money is paying big dividends.

Seeing my work on someone else’s wall is a little thrill, but being a mother is pure joy.


What's bringing you joy this week?

For Adventures in Mommyland

This is for you! We didn't think we would be missed! So, I love getting out of town, whether it is for the day or even a few weeks. I love it! This weekend we packed everyone up, sent the dog off to my parents and headed up to Springfield for a nephew's blessing. Blessings are so great. Especially this one, the parents have been waiting for 7 years to have a baby to bless. The baby's mommy is really one of my favorite people. However, we have had our differences in the past few years. She didn't like the way I am raising my kids. I would try to remember that since she doesn't have kids she really doesn't understand that when they are disobeying and break something that is both expensive and full of sentimental value, the typical mother reaction is to be angry. So we have had our differences. She wouldn't be rude to me but we just were close. But instead of not remaining close to her and not putting out an effort when she had her new baby, I decided to hit this head on and kill her with kindness. After the baby was born we went up for the day to meet him. Then I made him a blanket and booties. Then we decided to head up for the weekend. And I'm proud to report it worked! I felt the closeness returning this weekend. She asked my advice on her baby, she shared things with me that were personal, and we had a lot of really good talks. So lesson learned this weekend, when it is easier and non fearful to ignore someone and give into a relationship falling apart, step up and fight to save a relationship that is definitely worth saving! So Confession Wednesday (on Monday-just a few days late), have you ever worked on saving a relationship instead of just letting it slip on by and disappearing? Adventures in Mommyland, I'll be anxiously awaiting your comment!

Amazingly Things Get Easier

Throughout my year of no fear I've realized that things get easier the more I do them. Two examples for you, one, Mrs. B. hates having people over and yet at a lunch get together on Friday someone made the comment to me, "For as much as Mrs. B. hates having people over she sure does it a lot." So true! Mrs. B. has been on fire lately getting over this fear.

Example two involves me. My hubby and I don't do well apart. He hates being away from the family, brings up a lot of lonely memories for him. I hate having him away, it's hard to be a single parent but also scary at night. Due to jobs recently that have taken him out of the city for work, I've been home alone with the kids more in the last 2 months then in all our years of marriage combined. In November Hubby went to Lakeview for 5 full days. Things went well, the kids were great and we got a lot done. Hubby has now been gone three days, scheduled to return within the next hour, and it's been harder with the kids. But we survived! Something I use to dread and struggle with is now easier since I've had to do it more often. Plus the kids are figuring out that it's different around here and did the dishes today without being asked!

What have you learned is easier to do the more you do it?

Four pounds of powdered sugar later . . . .

If you haven't heard, there is a blog out there called Cake Wrecks that posts hilarious mis-creations of professional cake decorators (or wreck-erators, as they're affectionately referred to.) Totally fun to read! (She keeps it pretty clean, but the commentary, on occasion, leans a tad PG-13. Just so you know.) Sadly, our local grocery stores all decorate conservatively and with skill, and I haven't had the pleasure of submitting a wreck.

On Sundays, she posts "Sunday Sweets," which are cakes done to perfection. Like this one:

So after seeing weeks upon weeks of pretty fondant cakes, and since my good friend Ms. C was having a birthday, I was inspired to give fondant a try myself. This doesn't really qualify as a YONF, since I have a fantastic relationships with cakes. But it was something new for me, and I did serve the cake at a large social gathering in my own home, so there you go.

Attempt #1: The fact that Crisco was an ingredient should have tipped me off. Greasy, shiny, gross . . . even the kids wouldn't eat it.



Attempt #2: I called lovely Mrs. G, since she had mentioned that her 10-year-old daughter makes a good fondant. She readily shared the recipe. (Upon which MY 10yo daughter said, "Oh yeah! I've made that with Little Miss G!" You'd think she'd have stopped me at the Crisco.)

(Ok, she did stop me when I started to make white marshmallow fondant for bee wings, and pointed out to me that I could just use marshmallows. Clearly she's the brains behind the operation.)

It worked much better, but I apparently need to tweak the consistency, since my little fondant bees (the birthday girl is a beekeeper) were clinging to their hive for dear life, despite being quadruple-impaled with angel hair pasta.



Hoping to spare them, I put the cake in the refrigerator, which turned out to be a bad idea when I took it out the next day and the condensation on the cold cake made it all shiny and sticky. Lesson learned. (It did warm up and dry off eventually.)

So there it is. I'm a little proud, even though I'm certain I could have passed it off as the work of a 10-year-old (which I contemplated briefly).



Happy, Happy Birthday Ms. C!!!

I did it! Snakey, Snakey!

So I had this fabulous idea a few weeks ago that it was time to knock off another one of my fears. I called the best photographer (Mrs. B.) in town to document me touching a snake! I wasn't ready to actually hold the snake, mainly because I could see me getting afraid and throwing the thing. The only place I knew we could get our hands (or finger in my case) on a snake was at the local pet store. Luckily, Mrs. B.'s daughter volunteered to hold the snake for me while I touched it.

We marched a total of 5 children down the petstore and asked to hold the snake. It was called a something python! Doesn't he look scary?

Anyway, the wonderful, non-fearful daughter of Mrs. B. was given the snake and Mrs. B. took pictures of both me and her touching it.

Aren't you impressed? Next we will touch a spider, anyone want to come?

Confession Wednesday-Do you like to hold snakes? Would you have held the snake or just touched the snake?

Confession Wednesday: We need to talk.

Post-posting note: This post was directed at the abstract concept of the Year of No Fear. Not to Yonf herself, who I love dearly. That was genius on my part, giving them both the same name. For the record, Yonf The Person has never threatened my keister. However, YONF the concept? Just got me again.

Dear Year of No Fear,

You know, this has been fun. Heaven knows I've been braver, more adventurous, less reticent. But it seems like every time I start to blindly trust your wisdom, you BITE ME IN THE KEISTER.

For instance, there was the pie-eating contest. Thanks a lot.

And the DQ Sundae. Boy, wasn't that fun?

Don't forget the happy clerk. I made her day, I'M SURE.

It was your fault that I tested my Wii Fitness Age last week in the presence of several teenage boys. Guess how old the Wii thinks I am? That's right . . . SIXTY-ONE. Wasn't that fun when the boys' mother who tested after me (yes, the woman has GRANDCHILDREN) was only 45 Wii years old?

You were watching, weren't you, the other night, when I got that email from Mrs. K? The sign-the-petition-and-forward-this-to-everyone-you-know email that was sent to several recipients? The kind of email you don't mind receiving occasionally because you know the sender had good intentions? I know you were watching, because when one of those several recipients replied-to-all with a seemingly unkind rebuttal, you whispered in my ear that I should be indignant at such rudeness. Who did Mr. Reply-to-all think he was? "Tell him!" you said, "Tell him he can't treat Mrs. K that way!"

And I did. I replied to his email, and told him I thought it was unkind, and embarrassing to Mrs. K, and that she meant well. BECAUSE YOU TOLD ME TO.

Listen, Year of No Fear, you might have clued me in that I was chastising Mrs. K's VERY OWN FATHER. And I know you were giggling at me the whole time, because I think you knew that Mrs. K was going to call me the very next day and schedule a photo shoot of her family, which includes her father. You know, the one I got all high and mighty with. That I now have to meet face to face.

Hilarious.

And my last hope, that he would somehow not connect Mrs. B the indignant emailer to Mrs. B the photographer, was dashed when he replied to my email, and post-scripted it with his anticipation of the upcoming photo shoot. Did you have anything to do with that?

You and I need to reach an understanding here. I'll keep being all fearless and venturing outside my comfort zone, if you'll stop HUMILIATING me on a regular basis. (Maybe I'll use fewer all-caps words, too.) Is that too much to ask?

One more thing: Nice try, with the attempt to get me to snow camp. I know you'd have had me on a sled, or tube, or some related instrument of death before I could have blinked. Thank goodness the scouts are camping the same weekend and somebody has to stay in the warm, dry house with the children.

I'll be wearing these:


. . . which were dropped anonymously on my doorstep a few weeks ago, after I posted about my frozen toes, with a note that said, "What is a friend for if not to warm each other's "soles." (So delightful! I love them!) Good intentions, lovely outcome. See how it works?

Love,
Mrs. B


Anybody else have a good story about kind intentions gone wrong?