10 More Days.

That is how many days we have left of our Kindergarten year.

 

The days are long but the years are short.  And you guessed it, I want to cry.  As much as I am SOOOOO looking forward to the long, hot, long, hot, hot, long, days of summer with no real bedtime, camping trips, beach trips, libraries, splash pads, bike riding, pools, kitchen experiments, backyard sprinklers, kids spending time with relatives, summer camp,  arts and crafts, sleeping late in the mornings and lots days of driving mom crazy at home, I am also really REALLY going to miss this year.

SC’s kinder teacher could not have been more perfect for our family.  Remember how terrified I was of “real” school and “academics’?  SC never had that before, she had not been in the states, she had not been in this type of environment.  Would the Americans eat her alive? Nope.  That kid held her own and then some.  So, here is my heart-felt thank you to the best teacher ever:

Dear Ms. LB:
As this kindergarten year comes to a close, my heart is heavy knowing it is almost over but at the same time filled with joy knowing SC (and ALL of your Explorers) got off on the right start in your classroom.  I was never a parent to “push” academics on my child and wanted her to be a kid for as long as possible in many areas besides just academics.  You allowed her to play and explore the way children should.  Guess what?  She still learned.  Not only did you quickly recognize the learning style of my child, but the style of 19 other children.  Not only did you quickly recognize my parenting techniques, but the techniques of all the other parents.  And you managed them all quite eloquently.

Every day you cared for my child as if she was your own.  Each day she came home from school with a smile on her face, sharing (um, singing) something new she learned.  Except for the days there was a sub.  I didn’t hear much on those days.  I saw first hand in your classroom how you challenged the kids; you made them go beyond their comfort zone and surprise themselves with their own abilities.  I saw you be a counselor to those who had a hard time separating from their parents or were just having a bad day.  I saw you work through physical pain.  I saw you always put the children first.

This year has gone by too fast in my eyes.  The amount SC has grown as a student is outstanding.  You fed her craving for knowledge and knew her boundaries.  She learned to be disciplined by you and respect you at the same time.  The day of the Newton Shootings, I sat in horror, crying at my desk while trying to compose a short Thank You email to you for everything you do for our children.  And now, on the heels of the deadly storms in Oklahoma, there is no doubt that you would have protected our children and taken charge to keep control of the situation to reunite students and parents.  I see on a regular basis how much you love what you do and love each and every child in your class.  You understand their dynamics, their needs and style of learning to help them do better.  You recognize the feelings of these sweet little children and make them each feel so special and important.  SC has come so far in a short amount of time and clearly developed a love of school.  That is all I could have asked for.  You have set the bar high  for future teachers in my eyes; I am so thankful SC started off this way.  You made this first academic experience such a pleasant experience for our entire family, which made it easy.  You have also taught me much as a parent in a public school system; what to ask for and who to ask.  We debated nap time and tests;  you exhausted my cutting and stapling skills.   And thanks to you, I can now add Ricoh, die-cutter and laminating machine to my list of skills.

Now, as summer is just (GASP) 10 school days away, I hope the public school Gods are good to us next year and we get the best of the best who understands SC the way you did.  And while I am at it, I hope those same PS Gods send SJ your way.  He already has a love for you and your classroom! I hope you enjoy a summer filled with travel, friends, family and relaxation, you deserve it.  Thank you from the bottom of my heart for starting us on the right path of a love of learning!

xoxoxoxo
bfm

 

The Newest Holley

We were not outright seeking to get a dog, it just happened on a beautiful Sunday, as things do.

We had dreamed (we?) of having two German Short Hair Pointers to grow up with the kids on our 10+ acres in the country.  First thing’s first: one puppy.  We could not pass him up.  I had looked here and there for a GSP breeder, but did not get a ticket to the crazy train that goes out-of-state and has it shipped in for the amount it costs to feed my family for a month.  So, when The Fisherman stumbled across a flier for puppies down in Dripping Springs, we had to take a look.  With out the checkbook.  And, one thing led to another, blah blah blah and now I am cleaning up more messes in my day.  But, it’s all good.

Blitzkrieg Von Holley.

Blizt, for short, has settled into our family routines quite nicely. Blitzkrieg means lightning war in German.  I can tell you, the only thing this dog does at lightning speed is fall asleep.  He is the equivalent to a four-year old boy.  OH CRAP WHAT HAVE I DONE!!!

He has even come in handy after dinner time snatching up SJ’s droppings.  Some other great things about this puppy we LOVE:  He wakes SC up on school mornings.  The normally “I am not a morning girl” girl wakes with a big fat smile as he nuzzles her in bed.  He has digging contests with SJ in his dirt pit.  We recently added fresh dirt to SJ’s own little construction site and Blitz has challenged him to a hole digging contest; practically every day.

SJ finally has someone to boss around and tell NO!  He goes to bed when we go to bed.  8:00.  Well, at least when the kids go to bed.  He fetches a ball.  I’ve never had a dog do this simple task, so I think it is pretty cool.  He recognizes the sound of the school bus and runs to greet SC when she gets off.  THIS IS PRETTY COOL.  He has horrible gas. Not a cool thing. And he likes to eat chicken poop.  Just keep that in mind when he is licking your face.

Even though we may never add any children of our own to our family (I’m still up for adoption!) I love the fact that we added a new family member in the form of a DOG.  And this one really fits our family.  I look forward to many, many Blitz Stories.

Here’s to pet ownership!
xo
bfm

Love Your Mother.

I must have started a dozen times to write a post about motherhood, my mom, my mom mentors, the moms in my life, funny stuff motherhood does to your body and your mental state but I just can’t complete a logical thought process.  Maybe its the time constraints of being interrupted by the spawn of my body.  Or the mental state I’ve dived into head first (in the shallow end) of trying to Be The Mother Of All Mothers.  Who knows.

I had the incredible privilege of attending the production of Listen To Your Mother this past week.*  It is a series of women who tell stories of mother hood.  I was warned ahead of time: You’ll Laugh, You’ll Cry.  Wow.  Did I.  Fourteen women and one man told a story about their own motherhood.  From adoption, divorce, the “crazy” mom, empty nest syndrome, death and career vs. motherhood, the stories were absolutely incredible.  Listen To You Mother tours around the country; if you ever have an opportunity to see a show, jump all over it and pack tissues.

The amazing thing about the show, is that as a mother, you can relate in some fashion to all of the stories.  As a mother, you fiercely don your cape of motherhood and stand tall shoulder to shoulder with these women and say “I got your back”.  Because as mothers, we all want the same thing, right?  We just might go in different directions to get it.  What ever direction a mom chooses is her own personal decision and other mothers should not be so judgmental.  We should be supportive and share our own stories of success and failure.  Teach new moms about motherhood.  Instill the importance of motherhood in our daughters.  Teach our sons to respect women; for their lovers will become mothers.

And so, in awe of these women and their performance, I imagined myself up on stage.  A bundle of nerves, telling a story of my own motherhood.  Which story in the volumes of books I have in my brain would I choose? The dream like sequence I had when we brought SC home from the hospital, born in the middle of the night, a week early?  House not ready but two incredible friends cleaned and set up shop for me, the new mom.  How I learned to curl my toes to distract my mind from the pain of SC latching on to nurse?   How I can tell you the very last time I nursed my daughter, looking down at her knowing it was the last time? Being so blitzed out of my mind after SJ was born I would literally hand him over to the Fisherman when he arrived home after a LONG day and remove myself from my house; down a six-pack of beer while crying on the phone to my BFF?  Or,  SJ calling my boobs stems? { In the sweetest little voice, “What are those mom? Stems?}

Motherhood is the single most hardest thing I have ever done and at the same time, the most rewarding.

And while all those stories may be funny or sad, depending on how you look at them, I am who I am because she is who she is:  My Own Mother.  No matter ho much I think I am completely different from her, we are exactly the same, and that is kind of hard to admit, only because I am fiercely I DO WHAT I WANT.  My sisters are no exception.  They are exactly her as well.  And guess what?  I already see it in my own daughter.  I about melted right on the kitchen floor the other day when I overheard SC ask her daddy to save the milk carton because she needed it for a craft.  THAT IS MY DAUGHTER BORN OF MY OWN BODY!!

And so, all that is left for me to say and do, is to continue to cherish my mom, nurture my children and be me.  Complete, logical thoughts or not, that’s what I got.

To all the mother’s out there, we know we don’t need a “day”.  We need a strong drink!  We didn’t sign up for this gig for chocolate and flowers.  This shit is HARD.  I have somehow misplaced my parenting/mother hood handbook issued to me upon delivery of my first born. No matter what path you are taking on the greatness of motherhood, you are doing one kick ass job.  I hope you have a fabulous Motherhood.

xo
bfm

*The recorded stories will be available on YouTube for you to view.  I’ll let you know!

Hurry Up Summer!

I can almost TASTE it!  Hot summer days are right around the corner and I want to be READY!  As I am sitting at my desk updating Mental Health support groups, this is going on outside:

Gotta love it. He doesn’t have a care in the world, nor should he.  He doesn’t care that he has been up since 6am and refuses to nap.  He just keeps going…..This supports my mental health.

Happy Tuesday!
xo
bfm

Misery Loves Cucumbers {your next favorite recipe}

Little did I know this would turn into a history lesson for me.  I just thought I would share this totally awesome cucumber salad with ya’ll.  Upon a little research, turns out it has a REAL name: POLISH MIZERIA.

The dish of cucumbers served in a sour cream dressing is called Mizeria in Polish, which translates to Misery.  It referred to the peasants who devoured this dish by the Have -Gots.  Well, that’s sweet, but this dish has it ALL.  It’s refreshing, tangy, sweet, sour and even a little dilly.

I’ve made this dish a few times lately and my kids eat it up and ask for more.  I never ate cukes as a kid, so I am in love with the fact that they are in love.  Also, we planted some cukes in our garden and I hope we are over run with them so I can eat them every day all day until I turn into one.

There are several versions of this recipe out there.  I don’t use onions, you certainly can.  You could also season with cayenne pepper for a little hot-cha-cha with your cool.  The most important thing to remember is to toss the dressing with the cukes about 2 seconds before you want to serve them.  DON’T FORGET or this recipe will bomb and you will be known as the person who served those horrible soggy cukes at the pool party.  Don’t be that person.

Easy Cucumber Sour Cream Salad:
1 large cuke
salt
1/2 cup sour cream
1 tsp sugar
2 tsps. white vinegar (or, go on with ya’ bad self and use that apple cider vinegar you read about working wonders)
1 tbsp. dill

Peel cuke if that makes you happy, slice and salt them up heavily. Place slices in colander with paper towel or something of the like to catch the sweat.  Let sit for at least an hour, longer if you’d like.

In a bowl big enough to hold the cukes, mix the remaining ingredients.  Put it in the fridge and go play with your kids for at least an hour.  Or lock the bedroom door with you and your husband one one side, and the kids on the other. For an hour.

Rinse the cukes, pat dry and toss them in the bowl with the dressing RIGHT BEFORE YOU WANT TO SERVE THEM, remember?  You can also lightly salt and pepper them at this point.

I hope you and your family enjoys this easy dish as much as we do.  Sometime, I forget about the cukes and they get soft in the fridge.  I hate wasting food, and this is something I can put together quickly; I always have the ingredients on hand. ALWAYS.

HERE IS TO SUMMER BEING RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER!!
xo
bfm

Stop The Busy.

You know what I am talking about.  Someone asks you, “How are you?” or “How are things?” and you’re like, “Um…SOOOOO BUSY. Kid #1 does this on mon/wed ;kid #2 does so and so on tues/thur and I can’t even find kid #3; kid # 4 is away in Malaysia learning how to sew clothes for Old Nay and she’s only 3!! Can you believe it?  Husband works from 5 am until 12am.  We wake the kids up when he gets home for a picnic in the living room, which is really the dog’s bathroom because we added that  addition last summer.” (insert on-crack smiley emoticon here)

Got that? And, now, I am there.  SC does Hip Hop dance (which should be called Teach A White Kid To Dance) once a week and Daisy’s every other week with some sort of event taking place in-between that I have to decline.  SJ recently started what I can only describe the most un-organized t-ball practice; but he’s four, remember.  He was not built to sit still or listen to directions.

Every other week for the past couple of months, we have not been able to sit at the table and eat as a family Tuesday – Thursday; by the time Friday comes along, I’m done.  I could care less about dinner. This may not seem like a big deal to you, but for us, it is.  The dinner table every night is the beginning of our evening routine.  We sit.  At the Table. As a Family.  Every Night. Even If We Eat Cheerios For Dinner.  And when we don’t, mamma goes into a little tizzy and her world gets shaken.  Our family thrives on rhythms and when they are off, we can adjust.  I see a BIG difference in our attitudes when we don’t get to bed on time because of a weeknight obligation; and I know I am not the only mom. And I know I can’t control the world, just adapt. So, far starters, tball night becomes family picnic at the fields before practice instead of a mad rush to eat dinner, bathe, snuggle AND get to bed at a decent time after practice. Bam. Adapt that shit.

After SC started Daisy’s, they were asking us to sign up for events MONTHS in advance.  I couldn’t commit.  How would I know if we would be camping that weekend?  Then, one of the smartest moms I know, an experienced mother of three, said, “You don’t have to go.  Just sign up so your kid has a spot, then, if you have other plans, don’t sweat it.”  WHAT??!!!??? I thought.  Sign up for something and then not do it?  Back out? Un-commit? Not do something I said we were going to do?  I HAVE NEVER HEARD OF SUCH A THING!  BRILLIANT!! I WILL DO IT. And I did, and it felt great.  I let that pressure go. Several times.  Bam. Adapt that shit.

Last Friday, beginning at 8am when I dropped SJ off at child-care, I had back to back appointments for this and that until 4pm that afternoon.  It SUCKED! I am not used to that.  I’m used to working from home with out a bra and waiting ’til noon to brush my teeth.

Every single weekend, we have to make decisions as to what festival, event, birthday party, concert, brisk, athletic event, or tickle party to attend.  Not because we are Mr. & Mrs. Popular, but because there is SO much to do in this wonderful city we now call home.  So much. So freakin’ much.  Sunday evening I try to go to bed with a clear head, only to wake up Monday morning to a barrage of emails of the coming weekend’s happenings; to which I start texting and planning with the Fisherman; to which he reminds me to chill the eff out.

We used to be on the outside looking in.  We spent our weekends being lazy. Cleaning up the yard, tending to the house, catching up with friends at the beach;  and maybe attending the one cool, free event that took place on a weekend on STX.  Wondering what all the cool people in ATX were doing with all the cool free stuff happening EVERY DAMN SECOND OF EVERY WEEKEND RAIN OR SHINE WITHOUT TAKING INTO CONSIDERATION A MOM’S SANITY.

Who says being busy = being successful?  Who taught you that?  Re-think it.

So, I got caught up in what The Fisherman and I were trying to avoid.  I think I got overwhelmed with so many choices, I just felt like getting the kids involved.  It just took a couple of month’s to realize that we don’t want to be busy.  We want to be relaxed.  Work in the garden.  Play with our new puppy. Sit outside in crazy Texas weather and read.  Expose city folk to chickens.  So, slowly, I am saying NO more and more to everything available just because it is there. And slowly, I am gaining back my un-busy lifestyle.   I am just suggesting you do the same. STOP. Slow down. Take your time.  Don’t rush.  Don’t rush breakfast.  Don’t rush the love you have for people.  Be the person you want to be.  Take that new-found time while your youngest is home from Malaysia and snuggle in bed with a book.

I did not realize it was a “thing” to stop the glorification of busy when we moved back to Texas.  I did know that I wanted our family to live simply, and be the un-busiest people you know.  Here’s to doing not much of anything today,
xo
bfm

Nesting My World.

{let’s all take a minute to thank Jah for Pinterest}

I had to do this with the kids.  In the past year, SC is understanding that we are no longer Just Visiting Texas.  She knows STX is an island in the Caribbean.  Her little six-year-old brain is trying to make order out of a sometimes un-orderly world.  SJ, on the other hand, just wants to make sure he can have milk with his cereal.

I knew this would help them, and it looked like fun AND I could FINALLY use those empty cans I’ve been saving for a project. I know I am not the only one who justifies a purchased based on whether or not I can re-purpose the packaging? Right?

TA DA! I don’t think you need a step by step tutorial.  It’s pretty self-explanatory.

We live in Austin, in Texas, in The United States Of America, in North America, on planet Earth.

You can see the full blog post here with a little bit of lesson involved here from First Grade To The Core.

And, that concludes today’s geography lesson.  Go play.
xo
bfm

Good Morning, Moon.

There is something mysterious about the moon that draws people to it and I am no different.  Our family scopes it out nightly.  It is usually one of the first words in a child’s vocabulary.  I can still hear SC’s sweet little voice softly  declaring “moon, moon” as she pointed to the sky. Good Night Moon still is a staple in our house.  We own several copies.  We read it so much, SC had it memorized by age 3.  We, of course, thought she was brilliant and could read at three. {she was just re-telling the story, but she is, of course, brilliant}

As the kids were eating breakfast in the dark, which should be against the law, she spotted the moon SETTING in the west.  It was beautiful!  Similar to one I captured on STX at night.  A BIG ball of orange.  I ran outside to snap a photo:

Then, a few minutes, SC beckoned me again for this:

A true setting moon!  I LOVE THIS!! It really is the little things….

xo
bfm

And, It’s Been A Year.

That’s quite an understatement. Its been a year since we relocated our lives back to Texas, after a brief unwanted vacay in the slums of Miami. Do we miss St. Croix? Yes. Do we love living here in Texas? Yes. Are we glad we moved? Yes. Are things challenging, hard or different here in Texas? Yes.

But, that’s life. And we love it. I love seeing photos from all of our STX friends. The beautiful water, sand, sun, and fun times. It really looks like paradise. But, remember, Paradise is just a state of mind. I love our old house in the country here in Texas. Our chickens who have made themselves quite at home. Our newly planted garden. The beautiful spring time Texas weather is a reminder that a hotter-than-hell-and-I-love-it Texas summer is just right around the corner. We once looked out our back deck to see a sea of blue, the occasional whale sighting, watching the boats come and go from Christiansted Harbor. Now, we look out our back deck to a sea of green (and sometimes brown) of hill country, hawks riding the thermals along the ridge above the valley, the occasional white tail deer sighting, the sounds of lions and peacocks from the little zoo down the street and the trailers of cattle being hauled to and from the ranch at the end of our road. {and even gunshots, though not from random shootings but from a shooting range right down the street. We just can’t seem to get away from it…} You may not think these things are beautiful, but I do. This is our paradise:

Family. No matter where we are.

It was my goal to continue a similar lifestyle here in Texas as we had in STX in the sense that more is not better. Just because something is convenient, does not mean we have to have it and it CERTAINLY does not mean that it is better. We lived with so little THINGS on STX, that our lives were filled with LIFE. The Fisherman and I have made some un-conventional/difficult/non-traditional/against the norm/not what everyone else is doing choices in order to stay true to our parenting beliefs and the lifestyle we want to live, but we wouldn’t want it any other way.

We want our kids to be fearless risk takers. Jump out of a tree, go down a dirt road by themselves, make new friends…keep the old. Get pinworms a few times a year.

Just as with any life changing decision or move, there will be challenges along the way. The way you approach them and allow them to play out is up to you. You don’t need other’s approval for your life decisions. Remember, only you are responsible for your own happiness. Our family, The Holley Family, is living proof that paradise is a state of mind, not a location. Quit longing for someone elses’ life and they way the live and start making YOUR way of life the way you want to live.

Enjoy your day in Paradise, where ever you are.
XO
bfm.

Jambalaya Bread Pudding {a most delish recipe}

My MIL passed this recipe on to me.  Not sure where she got it.  She has been making it for several years.  I’m glad she shares her recipes with me.  I ask permission before I share with you.  You never know if you are sharing a 100 year old family secrete.  My mom still has not shared with me her banana bread or potato salad recipe.  I told SC my secrete ingredient to green beans and she tells every one.

This bread pudding is topped with a bourbon sauce.  It says you could use lemon juice, but that just wouldn’t be Christian or American. Anything with bourbon in it can also be eaten for breakfast; it gives you that little extra boost that coffee doesn’t provide.  It is a known fact amongst red necks. So, here it is:

Jambalaya Bread Pudding: For Breakfast or Dessert
1 loaf of STALE French bread (let it sit out for about a day)
1 Quart Milk (that’s 4 cups in mom terms)
3 eggs, beaten
2 cups sugar
2 TBSP Vanilla
1 TSP cinnamon
1 cup raisins
2 TBSP butter

Break bread in bowl into bite size pieces, cover with milk and let sit & soak for one hour.

I love baking with hooch, don’t you?

Mix well. Pre-heat oven to 375.  Add eggs & sugar.  Stir in vanilla, cinnamon and raisins.  Melt  butter in 13x9x2″ baking dish, tilting to coat all sides.  Pour pudding in dish and bake for 1 hour.

Tha’ Sauce
1 stick butter
1 cup sugar
1 egg, beaten
1/4 cup bourbon (or juice of one lemon + grated rind)

In the top of a double boiler, melt butter & sugar.

Gradually whisk in egg.  Cool slightly.  Add bourbon.  If serving right away, pour warm sauce over pudding.  If not, warm sauce slightly before serving.

It’s been a very Good Friday at our house.

When you make this, I suggest you go ahead and print out several copies of the recipe because all of your friends will want to make it for all of their friends and family.  It’s just the right thing to do.  I suggest you make it today and eat left-overs for breakfast on Easter Sunday, before church.  It will make a good impression.  That is what I plan on doing.

yum yum yummy!!

enjoy & you’re welcome.  Just doing my part to help strung out moms.  Strung out dads can fend for themselves.
bfm