favorite thing friday

Remember how I said last week that we were making an effort to eat healthier and stick to a budget? Well ... we've been doing great.

Until ... I was overcome to make several donations to the recovery efforts in Haiti. And Charlie, in a fit from his sugar detox, caved and made a gorgeously beautiful tray of O'Henry bars. Which I'm thinking of renaming, "O'Heavenly Bars" because I swore I heard angels singing as I took my first bite after a severely sugar-restricted diet the past few days.

But each day is a new day to do better and we must press on.

So in an attempt at sticking to our healthy eating plan, I cleaned out our refrigerator. Let's just pretend for a moment, I was cleaning it out to take an inventory of what was there and not to say, find space for a huge half eaten tray of O'Heavenly Bars.

As I was sorting through our produce drawers, I was overcome by how disheveled everything was: there were peppers here and there, onion skins scattered about like leaves in the Fall, potatoes that were starting to sprout and grow and partially dried out cloves of garlic filling in all the voids.

So I took everything out, washed the drawers and then removed produce from bags and washed each item, thoroughly. Because I figure I'll be more apt to use fresh produce if it's something I can just grab and eat. As opposed to say stare at and debate if I have the energy to clean it first. Either Yes or No?

If Yes, I'll grab it, hastily wash it, and then lament that it's wet.

If No, it continues to sit in my refrigerator until it rots.

Heads of lettuce were soaked in water and then, I stuck them in my salad spinner to remove excess moisture. Wait a minute. Do you know what a salad spinner is?

I mean, it seems like such an obvious household appliance, like say a spoon. But it wasn't that long ago we had some friends over for dinner and they were totally intrigued by the salad spinner. They'd never seen one before. They asked, with great trepidation, "What - is - this - contraption? That - removes - water - from - lettuce - as - if - by - magic?"

How it works is that once your lettuce is nice and washed (I prefer to soak it, drain it, soak it again, and then rinse) you place it in the salad spinner which consists of a perforated plastic basket within a larger container that has holes along the bottom. Once you place the interior basket inside, you pop on the top which has teeth that grab the interior basket and through the beauty of centrifugal force, you spin all of the water off your lettuce.

Which then drains, by the beauty of gravity, out of the holes on the exterior basket.

No, it's not magic. It's PHYSICS!

Once thoroughly rinsed and dewatered, I placed the lettuce in bags that were clearly labeled and stuck them in the drawers for my easy eating enjoyment. (Don't be judging the pre-packaged salads, Michele. Those were a previous purchase made NOT by me.)

All of the produce (that was of the non-lettuce variety) was placed in to large bowls so that they are conveniently contained and clearly visible.

Now I know that there are a lot of people that will argue produce maintains it's fresh state longer if you keep it in bags. The problem with that scenario - at least for me - is that when it's in bags, I can't easily see it and so I forget about it until I smell something bad. So with this new and improved approach, there is no more losing track of a pepper only to discover it three months later, covered in mold. No more losing little cloves of garlic or uncovering a bag of cilantro that has so far exceeded the point of freshness that it's sogginess is dripping out of the bag.

Incredibly enough, almost every item of produce that was in those drawers has been used up. Not to mention, we didn't buy duplicates of something that we already had, but didn't know that we had, because we couldn't easily see it in the drawer. And here's an added bonus: this week, we've eaten salad with dinner every single night. We've had fresh Pico de Gallo, roasted red bell peppers and tacos, tacos, tacos. Our meal planning and preparation has been a snap, because I invested a few extra minutes last weekend - getting everything ready for the week ahead.

Yay for efficiency!

Not to mention, we are the PICTURE of good health.

Hey wait a second. Who put that there?!

it's on the horizon: school and early bird specials

There's been a lot of discussion around our house, lately. Because as it turns out, we have three five-year-olds who are eligible to start kindergarten this year. (Must. Choke. Down. The. Sob.)

Now I'm still of the strong mindset that I'd like to home school the children. But since I work during the day, I don't know how that's possible. Unless my husband wanted to home school them. And whenever the topic has come up, he's said things like, "No way. No how. Bye Bye Kids. You're going to SCHOOL."

While Charlie and I agree on a lot of topics, this is just one where we don't see eye to eye.

(Other topics? He loves coffee. I think it tastes like burnt tar. He thinks documentary films are fascinating. I think documentary films are a great cure for insomnia.)

When I was working part-time, I really enjoyed 'homeschooling' the kids on different activities. And while Charlie does spend time each day working with them, he just doesn't possess the same kind of zeal. For instance, the daily calendar that I was doing everyday with the kids? My husband hadn't done that in several months. So when I picked it up the other day and clapped my hands together and said, "Children! Children! We're going to work on our calendar!" they looked at me as if I was speaking French.

My fears were confirmed that our kids had lost some of what they learned when I started working through the weekdays with them. "OK guys. Monday, Tuesday ... what comes next?"

William pipes up, "MARCH!"

Charlie cringed before adding, "Yeah. BUT. He thought Fast Food Nation was captivating!"

I've thought about this long and hard and I've decided the primary reason(s) I want to keep the children home is/are because I love spending time with them and I think that they will learn perfectly well under my tutelage. And I would like for them to have a relaxed academic experience and environment with lots of time to play and experiment and learn just by living.

We'll tour museums. And travel. And explore. And it will be so much fun.

EVERY. DAY.

Until they drive me crazy. Which would never happen. Because I live in a dream world.

Besides, I'd much rather they be socialized by me, than by children the same age as them.

Have you spent much time with five-year-olds lately?

They are a wild, crazy and totally goofy bunch. Especially the little boy, Daniel, in their basketball class. The child climbs OFF the walls and draws other kids in to his insanity, while his mom sits with her nose buried in a magazine. And I get so fed up that I start SIGHING loudly and shoot my children menacing looks. Neither helps much.

But mostly, these kids are growing up so darn fast, I'm genuinely afraid I'll send them off to school and the next thing I know, they'll be packing their bags and heading off to college. Because it really does happen that fast. I have vivid memories of being five-years-old and in just over 11 years, I'll be eligible for the AARP. I told Charlie that he would be eligible in just over six years, or approximately 2000 days, and my gentle husband told me to zip it.

(True Story.)

Anyway, the point is, I'm filled with remorse about sending our children off to school. Although, it does make my heart feel a tiny bit better knowing that since we didn't send them last year, they will be among the oldest kids in the class. And most likely the biggest.

Which might come in handy if anyone tells them that their parents are old.

what's in you wednesday

Yesterday, I had to drive up to Newport Beach for a meeting.

Newport Beach is in Orange County which is a lovely spot just south of Los Angeles and just north of San Diego which many people might never have heard of if not for a show about some "Real" Housewives that live there. Here's a picture of one...

Yeah, that's pretty much what I look like on most days.

So as I'm driving to this meeting - which took me around two hours from San Diego - I was reflecting on the exercise I've done over the past week and sadly, it hasn't been very much. I did go to the gym once and I took the kids to a local field where we spent over an hour sprinting up and down a huge grassy hill. But aside from that, I've been making great plans that haven't been fulfilled for one pathetic reason or another.

I turn on the radio and tune in to a Disco station. As I'm tapping my fingers to the beat, I'm struck with the idea of doing some simple stretches while I'm driving. I start with a shoulder shrug. Pulling my shoulders up to my ears and then lowering them down.

Pushing up. Hold. Hold. Pushing down.

Then I do a few shoulder rolls. Five forward. Five back. Five forward. Five back. Followed by a few more shoulder shrugs. Then I decide that since the traffic is light and I have a good grasp on the traffic flow around me, I lift my right arm up and do a few rotations. Then a few curls. Then a few rotations. Curls. Rotations.

I'm feeling a little heat.

I'm getting a workout.

In my car.

On the way to a meeting.

This is multi-tasking at it's finest!

It was a little more difficult to do rotations and curls with the left arm, seeing as the window was there, but I improvised enough that within a few minutes, my muscles felt a bit sore.

Then I switched my vehicular exercise routine to my lower half. Putting the car on cruise control, I lifted each foot and did 100 foot rotations. Then I did knee lifts, while keeping my knees bent. And then, once I sensed that traffic was picking up, I took the car off of cruise control and started working on a gluteal squeeze. First my left side. Then my right. Then my left and right, together.

"Celebration" is on the radio and I can feel the endorphins pumping through me.

There's a party going on right here, a celebration to last throughout the year. So bring your good times and your laughter too, we're goin' celebrate your party with you! Come on now CELEBRATION!! We gonna celebrate and have a GOOD time! Come on now! CELEBRATION!!"

I'm watching traffic and adjusting my speed, accordingly. I'm very aware of the cars around me, the music on the radio, and the beat that I'm trying to keep.

Right squeeze. Left squeeze.

RIGHT LEFT TOGETHER SQUEEZE.

I'm only slightly aware that as I'm doing these exercises my entire body is rising up. And down. And up. And down. Just about then, I hit a patch of congestion as Interstate 5 merges with the 405 but I keep on squeezing, while thinking of the outstanding possibilities for enhancing my physical fitness as I drive to the multitude of projects I manage throughout southern California in San Diego, Riverside and Los Angeles counties.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

Those Real Housewives ain't gonna have nothing on me.

That's when I see out of the corner of my eye a car has been hanging in my left blind spot for an extended period of time and as the car pulls alongside my vehicle, I sense that someone is watching me. I turn to look and a man in a Prius is smiling and nodding. My eyes fly forward as I immediately stop my gluteal squeezes and pretend like I dropped something on the floor.

A few minutes pass and the traffic slows to a stop. As I take a sip of water, I casually glance over at the car next to me where I see that Mister Prius is still there. Smirking. We make eye contact for the briefest moment and he winks.

The dude WINKED at me.

My Kool and the Gang rock out session promptly ended. I tuned in to NPR and spent the rest of my drive listening to Morning Edition while trying to shake the embarrassment.

Thirty six hours later and my face is still a little pink.

******

(I think I share way too much with you guys. So please share with me what you've done for yourself this week. Did you fly off a treadmill? Wear your bicycle helmet running? Come on. Don't leave me hanging. Surely you've had a doofus moment. Or three...)

give me some sugar

Charlie and I haven't only been cutting sugar out of our diets, we've been cutting it out of the children's, too. While we haven't gone completely cold turkey, we've definitely reduced our daily sugar intake substantially over the past week.

Still, we believe it's important to treat ourselves every once and again, but in order to get a highly coveted piece of chocolate we need to work for it. Here are the kids doing push-ups before Charlie gives them each a one-inch by one-inch square of chocolate peppermint bark.

I can't remember. Maybe they're pleading.

Please Dad. Please. I beg of you...

Weaning yourself from sugar is tough and everyone is feeling a little desperate. If I didn't know better, I'd think the kids were taking it out on their toys.

There's nothing to be afraid of little Fischer Price play person.

But if you want to live...

You better DROP the ice cream, Sally.

have a little faith

My sister, Eileen, sent me the book "have a little faith" for Christmas.

She sent me this book because she reads my blog (Hi Eileen!) and she knows from reading things that I've written here, over the past few years, I've been really struggling with my faith. Although I try to believe God's fingerprints are on everything, my life doesn't really mirror that philosophy of "Let Go and Let God."

I'm confused.

Remind me again - what exactly it is that I believe? What exactly it is that I am doing with my life? Why it is that I can't make a decision? Why it is that I can't just feel settled already? Why it is that I must always feel like I'm fighting against the tide?

I started reading the book a few weeks ago and every night, I read another chapter before I fall asleep. Although it's been a while since I've read any books to completion, I can easily say that THIS is probably the best book I have read in a long, long time. While I attend church - almost every week - this book has opened my eyes in ways church has not. I feel more calm and at peace because of this book. In essence, this book has been salve for my colicky soul. It is so captivating that I could very easily read the whole thing in an afternoon. But I haven't and for that, I'm glad.

Because I've been taking my time to get through it each day, I reflect on what I read the night before and I have an opportunity to mentally digest the story before picking the book up again, sometimes re-reading something, just to make sure the point sticks.

The book is written by Mitch Albom, who was made famous by his novel, "Tuesdays with Morrie." In the book, "have a little faith" Albom was asked by his childhood rabbi to deliver his eulogy. Albom agrees, on the condition that he get to know the rabbi as a man. And so an eight-year journey begins where Albom meets with his rabbi and the two discuss spirituality, faith and how those two things play in to the grand scheme of life.

There is one part of the book that has really resonated with me the past few days. As it turns out, I read this particular section on January 11, the night before the magnitude 7 earthquake that rocked Haiti. So that following day, as I was seeing the grisly images roll in from the Caribbean, all I could think about were Albom's words. He writes,

"The Reb (rabbi) was a believer from the start, that was clear, but I also knew that he was not crazy about some things God allowed on this earth. He had lost a daughter, many years ago. That had shaken his world. And he regularly cried after visiting once-robust members of the congregation who now lay helpless in hospital beds. "Why so much pain?" he would say, looking in to the heavens. "Take them already. What is the point?"

I once asked the Reb that most common of faith questions: why do bad things happen to good people? It had been answered countless times in countless ways; in books, in sermons on Web sites, in tear-filled hugs. The Lord wanted her with him ... He died doing what he loved ... She was a gift ... This is a test...

I remember a family friend whose son was struck with a terrible medical affliction. After that, at any religious ceremony - even a wedding - I would see the man out in the hallway, refusing to enter the service. "I just can't listen to it anymore," he would say. His faith had been lost.

When I asked the Reb, Why do bad things happen to good people?, he gave none of the standard answers. He quietly said, "No one knows." I admired that. But when I asked if that ever shook his belief in God, he was firm.

"I cannot waver," he said.

Well, you could, if you didn't believe in something all powerful.

"An atheist," he said.

Yes.

"And then I could explain why my prayers were not answered."

Right.

He studied me carefully. He drew in his breath.

"I had a doctor once who was an atheist. Did I ever tell you about him?"

No.

"This doctor, he liked to jab me and my beliefs. He used to schedule my appointments deliberately on Saturdays, so I would have to call the receptionist and explain why, because of my religion, that wouldn't work.

Nice guy, I said.

"Anyhow, one day, I read in the paper that his brother had died. So I made a condolence call."

After the way he treated you?

"In this job," the Reb said, "you don't retaliate."

I laughed.

"So I go to his house, and he sees me. I can tell he is upset. I tell him I am sorry for his loss. And he says, with an angry face, 'I envy you.' Why do you envy me?' I said. 'Because when you lose someone you love, you can curse God. You can yell. You can blame him. You can demand to know why. But I don't believe in God. I'm a doctor! And I couldn't help my brother!'

He was near tears. 'Who do I blame?' he kept asking me. 'There is no God. I can only blame myself.' "

The Reb's face tightened, as if in pain.

"That," he said softly "is a terrible self-indictment."

Worse than an unanswered prayer?

"Oh yes. It is far more comforting to think that God listened and said no, than to think that nobody's out there."

If there really IS a God, how does one explain the tragedy in Haiti?

Photo Credit: IFRC/Eric Quintero

Officials have estimated that some three million people - a third of the population - were affected by the 7.0-magnitude quake. And there are predictions that as many as 200,000 could die. In comparison, the magnitude 7.0 Loma Prieta earthquake that stuck California in 1989 killed 63 people.

Why did it happen there?

To the poorest country in the western hemisphere?

To a country where structures are slapped together with no regard to seismic standards?

To a country where the severely impoverished eat mud cakes, which are nothing more than cookies made of dirt, salt, and vegetable shortening because they don't have the resources for a proper meal?

Haven't the Haitians suffered enough?

Photo Credit: American Red Cross/Talia Frenkel

My homepage is Yahoo, so this week whenever I've logged on to the internet, I see the images and news stories rolling in from Haiti. With tears streaming down my face, I watched the video clip of the 11-year old girl who was rescued on Thursday and died a short time later. Her final words spoken?

"Mother, don't let me die."

Did the earthquake occur because 200 years ago Haitians made a pact with the devil?

Photo Credit: Matthew Marek/American Red Cross

Personally, I don't think so.

In fact, I really like what the hilariously brilliant Jon Stewart has to say (do you even READ this thing?!):

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. (Psalm 34:18)

Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed, says the Lord, who has compassion on you (Isaiah 54:10).

I typically do not go to church twice in the same weekend, but this weekend I did because I heard the Ugandan Orphan Choir would be performing at a nearby church and I really wanted for our children to see these incredible kids. At the second service, the pastor spoke of a blind man.

As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" "Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, "but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life." (John 9:1-3)

There is absolutely NO WAY to fathom the destruction and devastation that has occurred in Haiti. I don't think that the people that are there - on the ground - can get their minds around it.

From a scientific standpoint, I completely understand why the earthquake happened. From a spiritual standpoint, I can only believe that this is an opportunity for the work of God to be displayed in our lives. Provided of course, you believe God exists. Which to me, I'd much prefer to believe that than the alternative.

Just about everyone is on a budget. Just about everyone is feeling the strain. But I believe that just about everyone can do something to help. As Mother Theresa said, "If you can't feed a hundred people, then just feed one."

Photo Credit Talia Frenkel / American Red Cross

There are a lot of excellent charities out there and I hope everyone will find one that they can support, as their budget allows. After some considerable research, Charlie and I made our donation to the Red Cross because 91% of the donation goes to humanitarian relief and they have considerable outreach.

Ah well ... the first week of sticking to a strict budget just went due south.

But, I'm hopeful we'll quickly recover.

Photo Credit Talia Frenkel / American Red Cross

It is our most fervent prayer, the people of Haiti will, too.

the little man

While Charlie is gentle with all of our children, he treats our boys differently than he treats our girls. With Carolyn and Elizabeth, he's extremely gentle. He'll hug them and softly kiss their cheeks and tell them that they make his heart melt.

Which they do.

You've never seen a father more smitten with his daughters than Charlie is with our girls.

With our boys, he'll wrestle and throw them to the ground and tickle their tummies until they can hardly breathe they are laughing so hard. Charlie loves to play. But he is also very stern about the boys playing rough with their sisters. He will not tolerate the kids fighting and he gets particularly upset if he sees William hit his sisters. He'll pull him aside and say, "Little man, it is not acceptable for you to ever hit a girl. Do you understand me?"

Sometimes I worry that my husband doesn't show our oldest son the same kind of affection he shows our daughters.

But then I'll catch a moment where he scoops him up in a tight embrace and he'll whisper, "I love you and I am so proud of you. You are the best thing to ever happen to me."

And my heart pretty much cracks in two.

imaginations on overdrive

Remember how I wrote that the kids have a vivid imagination?

I think it might be a little too vivid.

At five-years-old, the kids are talking about anything and everything and making up the most outlandish stories you could possibly imagine. While I try to listen whenever they are talking to me, I have come to the conclusion that only 10% of the words coming out of their mouths have any truth to them.

For instance, tonight while Charlie stayed home with Henry, I took the kids to their first basketball class. Since we had arrived about 20 minutes early, we sat and watched a group of men finish playing up their game of basketball on the full court before the gym was consumed by peewee players.

I was quickly drawn in to a conversation with the family sitting next to me, while my children were drawn in to a conversation with the family sitting next to them. I noticed that the kids were chatting it up and pointing to players on the court, but I didn't pay much attention to what exactly they were saying. (Mistake number 1.)

Once the class began, and my troop charged across the court to the coach, the matriarch of the family that the kids had been talking with, leaned over to tell me how much she had enjoyed talking with my children. She asked if they were close in age and when I told her they were triplets, she gave me a puzzled look. "Really? They're TRIPLETS?"

"Yes," I smiled. But based upon her puzzled expression I could see she required more of an explanation, so I added "They're fraternal, so they don't look very much alike."

She then lowered her voice to a whisper and asked, "Is their father here with you?"

I wasn't sure where that question came from so I responded, "No, he's actually at home with our two-year-old." Then I gave her a puzzled expression and said, "Why do you ask?"

She threw her head back laughing and said, "Well, you might be interested to know that your children were pointing out various men who were playing basketball and very articulately told me that each one of them had a different father."

While I sat slightly horrified, she continued as she pointed to the various men who were now slugging back Gatorade. "One of your daughters said THAT man was her father, your other daughter said THAT man was her father, and your son said THAT man was his father. But then it was a little confusing because he said, no, no, I think THAT man is my father and he pointed to the black man."

Mistake number 2? Letting my children out of the house without muzzles. Or at least a sign around their necks that read in HUGE letters, "Fiction is my Forte."

We really need to have a talk with our children. They can't go around telling stories like that about their mother. I mean ... people might begin to wonder.

Also for those that inquired, my children's real father (both on and off screen) heard from the Producer of Supernanny and because they just recently aired a show with triplets in December, his episode has been pushed back two to three weeks. We'll let you know once the date is confirmed. But may I just add, THANK GOODNESS the kids weren't on the show with him?

I shudder to think what they might have said to a national audience.

the power is amazing

By now everyone has heard about the 7.0 magnitude earthquake that occurred in Haiti this past Tuesday. It sure has been on my mind. When I see the images of houses and hospitals and schools and churches collapsed, my heart breaks while my mind tries to process the devastation in this third world country.

Have you ever been in an earthquake?

Living in California, I certainly have.

Not one of the big ones, mind you, but large enough that I can feel the earth moving and hear the rumbling and it isn't until the shaking has stopped that I realize what happened. As it's occurring you wonder if a plane crashed? Or a gas line exploded? Or maybe a train derailed?

But then you remember that you don't live anywhere near railroad tracks. And you quickly log on to the USGS website to see what you can find.

Since I'm a geologist, I'm fascinated by earthquakes and the process that cause them. And because I'm a nerdy geologist, I'm going to explain that process a little bit, here.

Noooo. Wait .... Don't close the windo.....

For those cool kids that are still with me, the earth's surface is like one big puzzle that is broken into several pieces or "plates."

Each of these plates, which are approximately 264,000 feet (50 miles) thick, move PAST each other at the rate of approximately 1.57 inches to 7.87 inches per year. If you were to look at a picture of the earth 250 million years ago, you would see that North and South America once fit in to Africa like a big puzzle.

The theory of the earth's crust being composed of several plates is called "Plate Tectonics" and there are three types of "movement" that have been characterized at plate boundaries.

1) Convergent

2) Divergent

3) Transform

At a convergent boundary, plates move towards each other and collide. If an oceanic plate collides with a continental plate, the oceanic plate (composed of a more dense rock type) is pushed beneath the continental plate (subduction) and volcanoes occur. An example is Mount St. Helens in Washington. Where two continental plates collide, they form major mountain systems such as the Himalayas.

At a divergent boundary, plates move away from each other. Where plates diverge, molten rock rises from underwater volcanoes and adds new rock to the edges of the oceanic plates. This process is known as sea-floor spreading. It is in this environment that you might see those totally cool things called "Black Smokers".

At a transform boundary, plates move horizontally past each other. If you look at an aerial map of California, you can actually trace the fault line of the massive San Andreas fault as it transects California. The San Andreas Fault is an example of a transform type of boundary.

On one side of the San Andreas is the Pacific Plate which is where San Diego (and Los Angeles) are located. On the other side of the San Andreas is the North American Plate, which is where San Francisco is located. During our recent trip to a beach in northern California, we were less than a mile from the San Andreas fault line.

(Once upon a time, they were planning to build a nuclear power plant in that very location. I'm just not thinking that a NUCLEAR POWER PLANT anywhere near the San Andreas fault line is a good idea. KWIM?)

Because these plates are being driven by forces from deep within the earth to move, pressure builds up before being SUDDENLY released in an amazing eruption of power that results in an earthquake and sometimes, tsunamis and/or volcanic eruptions. Over long stretches of time, this is how mountains are built, islands appear, and gulfs are created. (In a few million years, Charlie and I will have our dream fulfilled of being closer to family since the Pacific plate is moving northewest and will eventually, be located near San Francisco. Yay! Party at our house!) Over shorter stretches of time, this is how societies are leveled and civilizations are decimated.

The island of Hispaniola is the second largest island in the Caribbean and it contains two separate countries; the Dominican Republic and Haiti. The earthquake that occurred in Haiti this past Tuesday occurred along a transform boundary in the region separating the Caribbean plate and the North America plate. It is estimated that in an instant, the Caribbean plate moved eastward (with respect to the North America plate) by approximately 20 millimeters.

And in an instant, people around the world, thanks in large part to the amazing power of the internet, knew about this earthquake that completely devastated a small country that has been wracked by poverty and violence. And in the following days, people would unite in awesome ways to funnel their support to the victims of this disaster.

As I've written about before, we've been sponsoring four children through Compassion International and it has been a wonderful experience for our entire family. We talk about our sponsored kids every day. We pull out maps and look at where they live. Because we write letters - and draw pictures - and communicate with our friends at least once every two months, we've learned about the foods they eat, the games they play and the things that they are learning in school. We've had many a discussion about taking four separate trips, when the children are older, to visit each of our friends and explore the world where they live.

So when I received a request from Compassion this past October to help find a sponsor for a child, in time for Christmas, I said YES. Because I would love to help help promulgate a cause which I fully support. But I didn't write about the child I was hoping to find a sponsor for here because at the time, I felt like I had written about enough of my 'causes'. So over Thanksgiving and for the month of December, I reached out to neighbors and friends asking if they would be interested in sponsoring the child that was assigned to me.

Angely is a sweet four-year-old little girl who lives in the Dominican Republic, which is located due east of Haiti, on the island of Hispaniola.

For a host of reasons, no one that I spoke to was able to sponsor Angely. They couldn't fit in to their budget the $38.00 monthly cost of a sponsorship. They were afraid they couldn't honor the commitment. And some said that they already sponsor a child. Or children.

When I heard that this earthquake struck, my heart immediately sunk. But then when I saw where it hit, my heart sunk even further. I've seen the pictures and know that the construction in this region is not seismically sound and definitely cannot withstand a magnitude 7.0 earthquake. So even though Angely doesn't live in Haiti, she lives on the same island and I feel like I have a close connection to someone who is in the same geographic area as this catastrophic disaster.

Our kids have talked about her - looked at her face - and frequently asked me to describe to them what her life is like.

"Well, she lives with her father and her grandmother and she helps by making beds, running errands and cleaning. There are two children in her family and she attends Kindergarten and Bible Study. Her birthday is February 5."

Does she have a cat?

"I don't know."

Does she have a dog?

"I don't know."

Does she have a turtle?

"I don't know. I doubt it."

Does she eat her vegetables?

"YES. I'm sure she does."

Can we keep her, too?

All along I've been telling the kids no. We've got four children we're already sponsoring and that's enough. Especially now that we're on a strict budget. But after this most recent disaster, I'm rethinking my decision. Life takes on a whole new meaning when you are able to help positively impact someone's future which inevitably has a positive impact on the world.

That to me, is the most amazing power of all.

********

If you'd be interested in sponsoring Angely, please send me an e-mail to TheAmazingTrips(at)gmail.com. I might be able to part with her on the condition that if you sponsor her, you tell me what happens with this sweet child as she grows.

What else did I need to tell you? Oh yes. All the geologic pictures and maps used in this post were borrowed from the United States Geological Survey website (or links contained, therein). I don't want anyone thinking that I was up late drafting those figures, myself.

what's in you wednesday

I read somewhere recently that if people want to significantly reduce stress in their life, they need to do away with their to-do lists and schedules. That bit of advice really surprised me since I didn't see how any one could function without a to-do list and schedule. But because I've had a lot of stress in my life lately, I was willing to give this new approach a shot.

Suffice to say, the first 12 days of 2010 haven't been very productive for us.

While we get the kids to bed before 8:00 every night, Charlie and I go to bed whenever we want to go to bed. Usually very late and after several games of Guitar Hero. As a result we wake up late. It's like our old days in college, except there are four children running around demanding that we feed them food that we don't have because shopping was on my to-do list.

During the day, everyone roams about not sure of what to do next.

Except me. Because I'm usually busy at work in my awesome pajamas.

Granted, we've all been very sick with a bad case of bronchitis and at least twice this week, I've been in a hot steamy bathroom with a hacking child in the wee hours of the morning. And we're slowly recovering from our Christmas vacation, which always seems to take a month. Even though I made a concerted effort to get everything down and put away, as I look around, there are still a few rogue decorations scattered here and there and I'm wondering if maybe I should just leave them up until next year?

The moral of this story is that after 12 days, I came to the conclusion that I can not and do not want to live without a to-do list. If having a schedule means that I will carry more stress than the average human, so be it. I'd rather have a little stress than feel like everything is totally out of whack and I'm living among a colony of slugs.

In an effort to combat this onslaught of crippling New Year atrophy, I bought a spanking new calendar for me, for Charlie, for our house, and I also bought a variety color pack of Gel pens. And I then surmised that there are very few of life's ills that cannot be instantly cured by an afternoon shopping for office supplies.

I then signed the children up for several classes through our local recreation center because they need structure and we need structure. They now have karate on Mondays, gymnastics on Tuesday, tap and ballet on Wednesdays and basketball on Fridays. Elizabeth also has speech therapy on Thursdays, so every single day during the week, something is happening.

I love it.

And our brand spanking new color coded calendars love it, too.

In addition, Charlie and I sat down last night and had a major talk about what we need to do to kick some major ass in 2010. Because as it happens every so often, we both felt like we had reached a point where our priorities were out of alignment. Our house was suffering - we were suffering - and most concerning to both of us, our children were suffering due to our inability to get our heads in the game.

You're up. You're down.

You're hot. You're cold.

You're on. You're off.

Such is the game of life. But we both recognize the importance of keep our eyes on the prize of satisfaction and contentment and feeling like we are living our lives the fullest we can. So last night, with glasses of ice cold water between us, we jotted down a few things to take on this New Year with gusto.

For starters, we are going to focus on our physical health. We are both going to lose weight. Not just because we're getting a bit chubby, but because we feel unhealthy. We're in the process of doing a COMPLETE overhaul on our diets. We are eliminating reducing our sugar intake and are bumping up our consumption of protein and fresh produce.

Here are some STAGGERING statistics that I recently read...

100 years ago, the average person consumed 15 grams of sugar a day. Today, our daily sugar intake is 189 grams ~ approximately 47 teaspoons ~ that are hidden in a wide variety of foods that we consume. Cookies. Soda. Cereals. Energy Drinks and Bars. The average healthy person should be consuming 32 grams a sugar per day, or approximately eight teaspoons.

In our family, Charlie drinks about three cups of coffee everyday and in that coffee, he puts no less than two teaspoons of sugar per. Sometimes, he'll have a Coke with dinner. Boom, that's another 10 teaspoons of obvious sugar for a total of 16 teaspoons, or twice his recommended daily allowance. This doesn't even take in to account the other foods that he's had throughout the day that are undoubtedly loaded with sugar. As for me, I can easily put away a box of Joe-Joe's (chocolate chip cookies, bag of M&M's, Dove Squares - insert your sugary poison here) without blinking. Considering two Joe-Joe's contain 13 grams of sugar and there are approximately 60 Joe-Joe's in a box, in three days, I've exceeded my two-week sugar allowance.

And then I wonder why my pants are tight.

It's because sugar is hidden (and not so hidden) in many of our foods that the average person is 10 to 30 pounds overweight. Did you know that the number of obese people has more than doubled since 1980? Excess weight can cause a host of health troubles including but not limited to diabetes, heart disease, cancer, sleep apnea, pregnancy complications, osteoarthritis, gallbladder disease and fatty liver disease - just to name a few - and studies indicate that in the United States alone, more than $100 BILLION dollars are spent on health care needs related to obesity each and every year.

Say WHAT?

So yeah ... in addition to signing up for several physical challenges including a triathlon for Charlie and at least one, possibly two 3-Day walks for me, we are making it a PRIORITY to eat healthier. For instance, just tonight, I threw out all of our cereals that contain more than three grams of sugar per serving. We'll largely be eating oatmeal and Cheerios for breakfast from now on, with sliced fruit on top. And if I can find the time, I honestly promise that once a week, I'll do my absolute best to share a new healthful recipe that we've cooked up.

Now we're also planning to exercise our brains and improve our overall mental health by signing up for a class that interests us. Charlie wants to get back in to classical guitar and I really want to learn more about photography. Since both of us are busy during the day, we're looking for classes that we can take one night a week, on alternating nights, at a local Junior College.

AND THEN, we're planning to participate one day a week in a small group through our church. In the past, the time that we've spent with other people reflecting on spiritual matters has provided an excellent boost for every facet of our lives, including our marriage - our careers - our relationships and best of all, our overall family unit.

This might seem like we're taking on a lot.

But it's easy to make time in your life for things that you enjoy. And it certainly makes you feel better about yourself when you can look back on a day - a week - a month - or a year and think WOW, I really accomplished something!

Last, but certainly not least, we are tackling our financial health. While we are able to survive off of my income, we definitely took a hit in the wallet when Charlie was laid-off from his job last summer. And while money has slowly started to trickle in from his very part-time business venture, we recognize that overnight success definitely doesn't happen overnight.

It dawned on me as I was doing our bills last month that never in our entire lives have we ever really stuck to a budget. If we want something we buy it. Sure, we've always religiously (and aggressively) put money away for retirement (and more recently, savings), but for as long as we've been married, we've never done well harnessing our wants with our means.

Did I ever tell you the story of the 3-seater Sea Doo our first semester in Graduate school? Or the brand new Honda Accord our second semester? Or how about the beautiful cherry bedroom set our third semester? And then the beautiful cherry living room set our fourth semester?

Come on! Isn't that what financial aid is for?!

What about the bright red BMW convertible that we bought soon after I landed my job in the oil business and almost immediately before becoming pregnant with triplets and taking a year off of work? There is no doubt that if we had managed our resources better up until this point in our lives, Charlie and I would have ZERO debt. But we didn't and so we do. (But we also have some awesome memories and the same beautiful cherry bedroom set, so not ALL is lost.)

This year our goal is to throw, at a minimum, six extra payments in to our mortgage and pay for as much as we can with cash. Not credit. Not even debit. But cold hard cash. Or any coins that we can dig out from between our sofa cushions. I'm still not sure how exactly we are going to do that without a money tree in the backyard, but if the budget that I calculated last month is sound, there is absolutely no reason we can't.

It will take some very savvy planning and living on a TIGHT budget but I want to do it so badly that I wrote it on my list. And my new line of thought is that if it is on my list of things to do it shall be done. On earth as it is in heaven.

So, what kind of life changing goals do you have in store for yourself - or your family - this year?

Do you think it would be harder to live on a strict budget or give up sugar?

Personally, I think both will be extremely difficult. With any luck, I won't be driving a new Range Rover and supplementing my diet with Bon Bons come February.

my one TINY character flaw

While I believe that there are greater and lesser persons than myself, I have a really tough time with people who solidly fall in to the "greater" camp. Instead of looking at them as someone who has their act together and is a source of healthy inspiration, I see them as someone who illuminates my own shortcomings. Whenever I'm exposed to someone who I think is eons ahead of me, I find myself constantly asking, "Where's the flaw? Surely, they aren't as perfect as they portray themselves. There's got to be a flaw in there, somewhere!"

Do they hide in the closet and eat cookies to combat stress?

Do they have a moody streak that makes them intolerable for a few days each month?

Do they have a funny laugh that isn't so much funny as it is odd?

Are they weird because they hide from people and avoid answering the door?

There is a family that I know who have triplets about a year younger than ours and their children are perfect. Absolutely perfect. The kids don't cry or scream or fight or tease or disobey or drive their parents crazy, in the least.

EVERY ONE in the family from the wise and spry grandparents right down to the triplet preschoolers are calm and collected. At least when we've been around them, they never raise their voices as they float through their days in complete harmony with the world. They're in good shape. They're good looking. They cook everything from scratch and eat organically. They're financially well off and live in a big house that is not only tidy but actually clean. But worse than any of that ... they have children that are so relaxed and easy going, you'd never know they were there if not for the cute little people wandering around. Children that are that always calm.

Is that a function of genetics or environment or...

HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?

Is the whole family medicated?

Are they piping Zoloft in to the house... or what?

It's tough to spend any amount of time with them and not walk away feeling like a freak. So I don't because until I find out that the wife tortures bunnies and the husband has a split personality and the grandparents peddle crack, they do nothing but bring me down.

As I mentioned on Twitter the other day, Charlie came home the other night with The Pioneer Woman's new cookbook. He had stopped by to pick up a pizza on the way home from church and since he had about 20 minutes to kill, he dropped in to a bookstore. He went in to casually peruse the aisles, but as it often happens, he was immediately drawn to the cooking section, because my husband loves to cook. To the point that he takes classes in his spare time.

While he was flipping through various cookbooks, he unknowingly picked up the hottest new cookbook in the blogosphere. The book fell open to a page that declared, "Thank God for Charlie" and not even realizing that there was a picture of a Basset Hound on the page (who is coincidentally named Charlie), my husband was convinced he'd just received a sign from God. When he returned home half an hour later, he was excitedly waving the newest addition to his cookbook collection.

Later that night, after we tucked the children in to bed, Charlie sat on the couch and with a cup of tea in one hand, Ree's cookbook in the other, spent the next two hours reading it from cover to cover. There were lots of "Oohhs and Aahhs" followed by several, "Now that's what I'm talking about."

All told, he loved the cookbook. He loved that it was basic and simple and nothing too extravagant, but packed full of good food. And when he felt satisfied that he'd read everything there was to read, he put the cookbook aside and I picked it up. Hesitantly at first, because as you know, I'm not much of a cook.

But as I began flipping through the pages, I had a whole different feeling come over me than my husband. Ree has four children, two girls and two boys. I have four children, two girls and two boys. She is married to the love of her life. I am married to the love of my life. We both thank God for Charlie. We both began blogging in 2006. We both stand upright and breathe air.

And... that's pretty much where the similarities stop.

How in the world she has the time to raise four children, home school them, grocery shop when she lives 100 miles away from civilization in one of the most beautiful places on the planet, maintain a brilliant award-winning website with multiple blogs that must require no less than 12 hours of maintenance a day and undoubtedly generates a fortune in revenue, take gorgeous photographs, bond with womenfolk, cook up meals that will knock a cowboy's boots off, go on a whirlwind book tour AND still look so fabulous is absolutely beyond me.

(And there are very few things that are absolutely beyond me.)

Has anyone read her cookbook? Do you have ANY idea the amount of butter she uses? Have you SEEN her figure? Or is she using Photoshop to enhance her image? Please SOMEONE tell me that she has uncontrollable flatulence and chews her toenails. I need to hear it because while I never have met this woman and she wouldn't know me if she tripped over my unkempt vacuum cord, it's hard to exist another day just knowing that there is someone out there that is such a phenomenal wife and mother and daughter and sister and friend and photographer and writer and blogger and comedian and maker of awesome food.

How is any one woman so perfect?

I've never felt so inferior.

If you must know the truth, since it's been in my possession, I flipped her awesome cookbook upside down and am storing it under my cutting boards. (Shhh. Don't tell Charlie.) Although, I did catch a glimpse of her cinnamon rolls and chocolate sheet cake and if I make them and if they taste anywhere as good as they look, the cookbook will be tarred and feathered and burned.

Because clearly she's a witch and she's cast a spell on me and I can't have any of that black magic in MY house.

what a nice way to (almost) start the week

This morning as the children all came out of bed, they cheerfully greeted me with, "Happy Mother's Day, Mom!"

Smiling sweetly at my children, I patted each one of them on their adorable heads and said, "Guys, that's so nice of you but today isn't Mother's Day."

My children were unfazed by the date as they excitedly said, "That's okay. We're just going to PRETEND it is." Looking over at Charlie, I said, "That sounds great to me. I'm going back to bed for an hour and when I wake up, I'd like an egg white omelet and fresh squeezed orange juice."

Charlie didn't agree. He said something about confusing the kids by celebrating a holiday four months ahead of schedule. To which I replied, "Why must you CRUSH our children's imagination?"

To which he replied, "Don't you have a conference call in 10 minutes?"

To which I replied, "........."

"Darn!! Can we please do this tomorrow?"

children, this is your mother

Since our children have been born, we have taken more than 30,000 photographs. I think it's safe to say that Charlie and I have taken more pictures in the past five years, than the two of us have taken in our entire lives.

Because it's important to me that we capture and record as much of this time in life as we can, not a day passes that we don't take pictures. Already when I look back on my blog archives, I am amazed at how much our children have changed. In that sense, this blog is an incredible treasure for me. I can only imagine how much more precious it will become as our children grow older and I have a running chronicle of their lives in words and pictures, captured in the moment.

I was recently talking with someone who told me that both of her parents are deceased and it greatly troubles her that she has very few pictures of them. Once she realized just how scarce the photographs were of her mom and dad, she began making a concerted effort to have herself in front of the camera whenever she could. Despite the fact that she is camera shy because she is a few pounds overweight and doesn't feel particularly photogenic, she realized that her children know what she looks like and love her all the same. So why not record images for them?

As I was looking through my archives recently, I realized that there are very few pictures of me. Not for any reason except unless I set the camera up on a tripod, there is no one here to take a picture of me. It frequently happens that I'll take a photo of Charlie, but rarely does he pick up the camera and take pictures of me because he doesn't think about it the way I do.

It's cool though because our kids have reached an age where they really enjoy taking pictures, themselves. For instance, over the past week, the kids have almost completely assumed control of my point-and-shoot camera. Granted, they need a little practice on centering the subject in the frame, but they're getting there.

So to my kids ... this is me, your mom. These are pictures that you took of me, doing what it is that I do at this point in my life and for the most part, enjoying it thoroughly. I hope that as you grow older, you have fond memories that match these images - of this time.

A time when I laugh more than yell, take you on extraordinary adventures whether out in the real world or in a story book, frequently stop whatever it is that I'm doing to pick you up and give you a BIG hug, and sing totally random and made up songs throughout the day. And last but not least, spend an exorbitant amount of time cleaning after you because Good Lord you sure do make a mess.

Here I'm working from my "home office" in my pajama bottoms the first week of 2010. Kudos that at least the top half of me is dressed for the day.

Here I am negotiating with children that if I got dressed, they must also get dressed before we go out. I'm being met with resistance because the average age of children in my charge is 4.3 years and as a collective unit, they aren't the most rationale. Or cooperative.

Here I am bending over to pick up things off the floor.

Here we're heading off on an adventure with the sunroof open. I realized two blocks from the house that we forgot something and had to turn around and drive back. Thankfully it wasn't a child.

Here I am taking a walk in nature with Henry on my back.

Here I'm washing dishes, wiping down the counters, putting food away. I think I spend more time cleaning the kitchen on any given day, than I spend sleeping.

Sweeping. Mopping. Vacuuming. One of the three. It never ends.

Picking up more objects from the ground. There's always something down there that needs to come up. I'm convinced my children only hear a fraction of what I say because I'll interject various words in to a sentence just to see if they are listening.

"Hey guys, could you please come in here and pick up your crayons and make your bed and put away your pajamas? I'm really tired of cleaning up after you." Pause. Oblivion. "I'm really excited to go to Legoland but first all of your crayons must come UP!"

What they hear, "Wank wank wank wank LEGOLAND wank wank wank WANK!"



Sitting down to read story upon story, or complete a craft with the kids while the baby climbs all over me and tries to shove his hand down my shirt because that's what he does whenever I sit still for more than 10 seconds. Here, I am making a pot holder. Which wound up becoming a blanket for William's baby panda bear.

This is the finished product. My edges didn't come out as well as I had hoped but thankfully William, nor baby panda bear, objected.

Maybe I should just tell everyone this is something that the kids made?

Then it actually looks kind of cute.