Happy at Home: Little Boy Style

Do you see this boy? I LOVE him. With my whole heart. Possibly more. I love all of my children, naturally, but there is something special about a mother's relationship with her son. All he has to do is look up at me with his big brown eyes and I melt. I melt right there into a puddle on the floor, a sopping mess of deep love.

Last week my boy turned two and a half years old. The night sky was fading, Boss and I were sitting around a toasty fire in the backyard, the children bouncing on the trampoline, their fingers still sticky from the Smores we had made. And then the significance of the day hit me. It was September 15th. Our boy was now officially two and a half years old. We had now loved him for 30 months. So I yelled across the yard to him, Happy (half) Birthday, Jack! He stopped bouncing. Today is my happy birfday? Dramatic pause. Yes, we told him. Hooray! Today is my happy birfday! he shouted as his sisters wildly cheered and clapped for him. It was an ordinary evening at our home, made special by the celebration of two and a half years of life.

At two and a half years old, Jack is a little ball of energy He is full of life, constantly fighting naps. He is afraid that if he sleeps he might possibly miss something! There is nothing he loves more than his parents, siblings, and grandparents. Except for maybe Kaytlin. Kaytlin is his girlfriend. She is also sixteen years old. But Jack doesn't seem to care about the age difference. All he knows is that he loves her. He also loves sports. Basketball, football, soccer, tennis, golf. If it comes with a ball, he loves it. And thank goodness for his love of sports, because that helps to balance out his other loves of Barbies, babies, tea parties, purses, and lip gloss. His love of sports helps his daddy not to feel as worried. His favorite foods are macaroni and cheese and grapes. And if we are going to keep this update honest, I must also say that Jack spends large portions of each day in time out for hitting and biting his sister, Kate. What can I say? Love hurts, baby. But just when I reach my breaking point in this whole 'parenting a rowdy little boy thing', he looks up at me with his big brown eyes and I melt all over again.

We feel so blessed that Jack is our son. Of course we think he is brilliant, and handsome, and funny, and wonderful. He makes life in our home better every single day. I thank God all of the time for the gift of my family and children. How can my home be anything but happy when I open my eyes to the gifts all around me? The answer is that it can't be. So scoot over Disney World. Home just might be becoming the happiest place on Earth.

Apple Picking in Autumn

Fun Orchard We Visited With Friends

It Was Open!

My Cowboy

Pumpkins!

Cowboy Jack Captured A Pumpkin

Emma

Kate Works Hard

Jack Found Some Good Ones!

Claire Is In Charge Of The Bucket

My Beautiful Girl

Sweet Boy

My Other Beautiful Girl

Little Lila

Apple Gazing

More Pictures, Mama?

Big Jack and Little Jack

Three, My Favorite Number

Apple Barn

Country Tractor

Happy at Home: Soup Style

 

Happy Fall! And happy Monday! I am so excited that it is that time of year again! Fall is one of my most favorite seasons. Crisp weather, orange pumpkins,  hot drinks, changing leaves, campfires, and soups. Lots of yummy soups!

 

In case you weren't aware, soups are a super yummy and simple dish for the struggling homemaker to prepare. That would be me. Ahem. (My friend once gave me a cute little bag that read I only have a kitchen, because it came with the house! Ha!) But since I have aspired to learn the art of being happy at home, and to me that means having a delicious supper on the table for my family more nights than not, soups are often a wonderfully warm way to go. Because it's now fall! And we can eat soup!

We have a couple of 'family favorites' that I would like to share with you. The recipes, that is. Not the actual soup. But if you would like to come over for a bowl of soup, that would be just super, too!

Our most favorite soup is Chicken Enchilada soup. I was given the recipe by one of my fellow foster moms. This soup only requires five ingredients (though you can add more, if you desire). My fellow foster mom friend knew of my struggles in the kitchen, and she told me that this was my recipe. Created just for me. And because you can create goodness with only five items, I think she just might be right.  So here it is:

Chicken Enchilada Soup

 

- 1 can Cream of Chicken Soup

- 1 can Fiesta Nacho Cheese soup (spicy) OR 1 can Cheddar Cheese soup (mild)

- 1 can red enchilada sauce

- 2 cups of milk

- diced chicken (may be boiled, Tyson's already cooked/just need to be heated chicken pieces, or even from a can!)

 

And that's it! You can add a can of drained corn or black beans if you want to get fancy. And sometimes I add a cup of Picante Sauce. But you don't have to. It tastes smashing with the first five ingredients alone.

 

Simply combine everything into one big pot on the stove and cook it over med/high heat until it is warm and bubbly, or put it in your handy dandy crock pot and cook it only high for a few hours, or low all day long.

 

Top with crumbled tortilla chips, grated cheese, sour cream, you name it. If you like it, toss it on! And voila! You have a yummy, and more importantly simple, supper!  

 

(serves my family of five easily, with soup to spare)

My second go to soup is Taco Soup. I am not sure where I found this recipe, but there are a variety of versions of it all over the Internet. I used to make this soup for the teenage girls that we fostered. They loved it, and it was good for serving a crowd. Which we always had. Every single night. And it's true that I kind of miss those days. Full tables are the best. My friend Heather used to say that eating at our table felt like Thanksgiving! And for my struggling homemakers soul, I took that as a compliment!

Taco Soup

 

- 1 lb. ground beef or turkey, browned

- 1 pkg. taco seasoning

- 1 pkg. Ranch dressing mix

- 2 cups water

- 1 can corn

- 1 can stewed tomatoes

- 1 can ranch style beans

- 1 small can green chile's

- 1 chopped onion (optional)

 

Can be cooked stove top or in your crock pot! Top with all of your favorite taco toppings. Enjoy!

 



So there you have it. My super, secret soup recipes. Except they aren't secret, because I just shared them with you. And they aren't even mine, since I stole them from friends. Whatever. I will simply say you're welcome, and leave it at that! Here's to another week of learning to be Happy at Home!

SOCCER Saturday

Soccer Sisters



Coach Z (aka Boss) and his Children

Kick it Kate!

Stylin' Star

Wait for it.....

Let's go Number 3!!!

We love SOCCER Saturday's!

Remember: Every Life is Beautiful

Boss and I last February. I was newly pregnant with baby number four.
Photo by Heather Matthews Photography

 Yesterday was an emotionally intense day of remembrance for me for a number of reasons.

 

The first reason is probably pretty obvious. The tragedy of 9/11 touched our entire nation. It touched me. I was just beginning my sophomore year of college that September, sitting in a class on government when I first heard the news. I actually don't remember how I initially felt upon watching the planes fly into the towers . I don't recall my initial reaction. I don't think that I even had one. I am one of those people where it takes quite awhile for emotions to sink in. After a lifetime of feeling things much too intensely, by college I had a nice big wall built up around my heart, and I had to choose carefully what feelings I would allow inside of my wall. Feeling nothing usually won out, and I am ashamed to say that it won out on 9/11, as well. I felt nothing. It was easier that way. And as the days went by, and it was still all that anyone was talking about, I then remember moving from feeling nothing, to feeling angry. Because the longer people talked, the more times they showed the horrific footage on the television, the more likely it was becoming that I couldn't ignore what had taken place.

 

It finally hit me several days later while I was in the shower. And then all of a sudden, I felt fear. Fear of being alive, fear of not being alive, fear of a religion I did not understand, fear of moving about freely, fear of being away from my family. And I kept thinking about those people on the planes. And I knew that my fear could not even begin to compare to what they had experienced that day. So I cried the ugly kind of cry. I slid down the side of the shower until I was sitting on the cold floor of the tub and I let the warm water wash over my body, praying it would wash away my pain in the process. I have always been a fearful person, and the events of that particular day drew me in to my shell just a little bit more. I began to view the world differently. I had known that the world could be cruel, but that day showed me that it was also unsafe. 9/11 made me question God. Not in a bad way. Just in a way that was new for me. And eleven years later, I still don't have answers to some of my questions.

 

So yesterday, I remembered. I remembered the people who lost their lives. I thought of and prayed for their families. It was a good reminder that I am not the author of my own days. I am not in control. It was a good reminder that every life matters. Every single life has the ability to impact another. Yesterday I remembered that every life is beautiful, even the lives that end too soon.

 

But yesterday had me remembering the loss of another life, as well. Last February, I miscarried our fourth child. Sweet baby would have been due this month. The first several weeks after the miscarriage were hard, but after awhile, life got back to normal. I still thought of our sweet baby from time to time, but I could do so with a smile. But then September came, and my heart started hurting again. I should be heavy with child right now. I should be feeling little kicks and washing tiny clothes. Our baby should have had a name. But it never will. Last night Boss and I watched a movie, and in one particular scene, a mama is handed her brand new baby, all wrapped up in the white hospital blanket striped with pink and blue, little cap snug on his head. And before I knew what was happening, I was weeping. Weeping for the little baby that I was never meant to hold. Weeping for life not turning out the way that I would have liked for it to. Weeping for all life that has been ended too soon.

 

So yesterday, I remembered. I remembered sweet baby number four. It was another good reminder that I am not the author of my own days. I am not in control. It was another good reminder that every life matters. Every single life has the ability to impact another. Sweet baby number four has certainly impacted mine. Yesterday I remembered that every life is beautiful, even the lives that end too soon.