Candy Shop Pizza

I've told you before that when I was first out on my own, I was not that great a cook. My skills were very limited, because I'd grown up in a house with a Mom who was a FANTASTIC cooks, so I'd had no need to learn for myself. I didn't mind being a struggling cook when I was home alone. But I did mind when it came time for work or church carry-in dinners. So Mom helped me find a few staple recipes to begin my cooking career. This was one of them.

I think she found this one in a magazine, and she shared it with me because it seemed quick and easy. Because I made it so often in those early years, it became one that was frequently-requested by my friends. I've taken it to Super Bowl parties and New Year's Eve bashes and all sorts of good junk food events.

Last Sunday, I took this to some friends' house for lunch and they asked for the recipe (yay!). I already sent it to them, but because I know they LOVE (ha!) the picture tutorial....here it is.

The Recipe:
18 ounce roll refrigerated chocolate chip cookie dough
6 ounce package chocolate chips
1/2 cup creamy or crunchy peanut butter
1 Butterfinger bar
1 Kit Kat Bar
1 Twix Bar

Press cookie dough into a 9X13 baking dish or a 12 inch pizza pan. Bake at 375 for 11-15 minutes until edges are set and center is soft. While hot, sprinkle on chocolate chips and peanut butter. Let stand for five minutes to soften, then spread. Sprinkle 3 chopped candy bars over top. Cool. Cut into squares and serve.


I buy the generic cookie dough if I can find it. I actually prefer it to the brand name because it seems to have more actual dough. While I don't believe there can be such a thing as "too many chocolate chips" as a general rule, when you need something to be a "crust," it helps if there's a good amount of dough. I've used both creamy and crunchy peanut butter - makes no difference. And of course, the candy bars are up to your own choosing. I bought these this time because they're what I could find in the Wal-Mart aisle I was in.


The dough gets very sticky and that can get annoying. I put a baggie over my hand to keep it from sticking to me. The recipe's name (Candy Shop Pizza) suggests you should put this in a pizza pan, but I don't have one, so I just use my smallest cookie sheet. It doesn't matter. It's all cut up into squares before serving anyway.

It also usually doesn't fill up the entire pan. I don't want to thin the dough out TOO much, so I just leave the end of it wherever I run out.

While the dough bakes, I go ahead and cut up the candy bars, so they're ready to go. I almost always put Butterfinger and Kit Kat on this because they're easy to chop up and they add a good crunch. For the third bar, I've used Nestle Crunch, Baby Ruth, Snickers, all kinds of candy. I also take the baking time to measure the peanut butter, so I can have it ready the minute the cookie dough is done baking.

Here is the baked cookie - doesn't it look pretty?

I sprinkle the chocolate chips (about half a bag...milk chocolate or semi-sweet...I've used both) and plop the peanut butter down by the teaspoon. If you dump all the peanut butter in one spot, it won't melt as well and you'll have a hard time spreading it. I do this part the very minute it comes out of the oven.

Once the peanut butter looks melty around the edges and the chocolate chips are shiny, take a knife or spreader and gently spread it around. I try to mix them up well as I spread it. Don't push too hard because the cookie underneath is still soft.

Here is the finished, mixed product. This now serves as the "glue" for the candy bars...so they won't fall off when you cut and serve. So make sure to put them on right away.

And there you have it! Make sure to evenly spread the candy bars - and to let them go all the way to the edge. I usually make this a day in advance so it has a chance to set up overnight.

Just cut into squares and serve. You probably won't have leftovers, so if you want any for yourself, sneak them as you cut them.

Ministry Blogs

I'm post-happy this week, I think. Not post as in "I was previously-happy and now I'm post-happy." Post as in...what you're reading.

Maybe it's because last week I worked so many hours I didn't even have time catch my breath, eat properly, or sleep, and now I have so many things to report! Or maybe I'm just being a motor mouth again.

Anyway, if you haven't read yesterday's post and you need a good laugh at my expense, please do scroll down and read. In the meantime, I have just a couple things I wanted to say. Normally I don't say much about the blogs in my list. I figure if you are curious, you'll check them out, and if you're not, then...well...no worries! Most of the blogs are people I know in real life, but a few are people I just enjoy reading about, while wishing I knew them in real life.

But there are three posts I want to tell you about just in case you would otherwise miss them.

1. Living Proof Ministries has a new post up today, written by Beth Moore's daughter, Amanda. The title of the post is Disturb Us, Lord, and she makes pondering-worthy comments in it, I think. Perhaps it hits home with me today because of conversations I've been having elsewhere. Melissa has just started a new Master's program, and she writes about her first day in chapel. Among other things, she says, "But the catch here is that during that dry season I was studying Scripture more intensely than I had ever studied it before. Yet I was no longer engaged with the One to whom Scripture points, Jesus. I was no longer receiving life itself." Powerful stuff.

2. Ministry So Fabulous is a blog I just started reading this week. My friend Julie sent me a link to a specific post that sounded like a page straight out of Bekahland. I was hooked and started reading post after post...and loving the tales of a life so like my own...but actually happening to someone else! Yesterday she posted about meeting a guy with a beautiful accent, and I just LOVED everything about her post because it was all the stuff I think but never have the guts to say in a situation like that! :) That one even has a video blog with it. Good stuff.

3. And finally, since my lunch hour is rapidly ending and I need to get back to work...a few days back, Eric Ludy updated his blog. He and his wife have one of those "dream ministries" - at least in my opinion. The kind of stuff I would love to do! They are starting a "school of honor" and I absolutely love the concept behind it and hope it succeeds beyond their wildest thoughts. I met with a student (a guy) yesterday afternoon right before the end of work, and after chatting about money, we veered off into a conversation about ministry and fluffy Bible studies. He talked about the rare population of people who follow hard and fast after deep truth, and it made me think he'd be a great student for that school. He's the kind of heart they're looking for, and they're not easy to find - especially among the guys.

So anyway, if you have a minute, check out the posts...I have to give up my lovely lunch time perch on the porch and head back to work!

Pulled hamstring and all. (That's the post below.)

Only in Bekahland....

Before I get to today's almost-catastrophes, let me tell you my two "yay!" moments.

* Yesterday morning, some precious (yet anonymous) soul left a box of muffins on my desk at work. I asked around and the most information I could get was "someone with strawberry blonde hair." I can't think who that might be...which makes me feel even worse...because obviously said person was thinking enough about me to bring me food and I can't even come up with an option of a name! But thank you, kind soul! You have made my week.

* Tonight as I walked through campus after visiting one of my friends at her apartment, a group of students asked me if I was going to play dodge ball. After picking myself up off the ground from hysterical laughter, I realized they thought I was a student!! God bless that box of hair color.

Okay. On to today's injuries.

I'm not graceful. I'm forever doing something unkind to myself. Rarely do I break or sprain or do anything really horrid. But I am just a magnet for mishaps.

This morning I bruised my calf with my flat iron. Do you know how much talent that takes? Significant, I assure you. For reasons unknown to me, my flat iron has about a twelve foot cord on it. Perhaps it was designed for women who actually do their hair on their commute to work and they need that much cord. Dunno. But in a 3 square inch bathroom, that much cord is...well...apparently a hazard. I had plugged in the iron this morning to straighten my bangs before work, and as I turned to exit the bathroom to get something, my foot became tangled in the mass of cord, and the plugged in iron came snapping off the counter and sailed straight into my calf. Thank goodness it wasn't a curling iron or I'd have a bruise and a burn.

Later, in another unprecedented move, I pulled or strained or whatever a hamstring while at my computer. HELLO. How????? Well I stood up from my desk to go meet with a student, realized I needed one more bit of information, and turned back to my computer. Rather than sitting down like a normal person or even bending over to gather this, I kind of bent sideways without bending my knee and in so doing, felt incredible pain shoot through my leg. Probably because legs don't bend that way! And now I'm on the injured list.

I stopped by to visit another friend on my way home from exercising tonight and she asked why I was working out if I was hurt. I said "Because fat trumps injury!!!" She rolled her eyes.

Happy Birthday, Dear Mama...

Today is my Mom's birthday. If you were one of the (approximately) one billion people I told she was 74....I might have been wrong.

She's one year younger than I thought. Consider this my printed retraction. I sorry, Mom. :)

Here she is with her birthday gift...love the bag? She is NOT a Victoria's Secret fan, so I thought it would be fun to put her gift in one of their bags. See the grief I continue to give her? It's part of my charm.

Balloon and everything! Everyone deserves a balloon for the birthday!

Happy birthday, Mom!

Okay So Maybe It's True

You'll find Bits in the post below, but my sister said I should scan this in, so I did. Because, you know, I'm a good sister. I follow directions. :)

People frequently comment that my niece and I could pass for sisters. Well sometimes we've heard mother/daughter, but HELLO! I was eleven when she was born! I don't think so! It always cracks me up when I hear that because I think she looks a lot like her dad, and we're not related.

This is Cassie's senior picture, that I have in a frame in my living room. Tonight I was adding pictures to frames, and I put the picture below it right beside it. And then I sat there with my jaw dropped and said, "Well shut right up. Maybe there's something to that theory!"

I'll claim her. She's the best.

Bits for Sunday, September 6, 2009

I have had a VERY busy week (see post below for details on that) so I don't have anything meaningful for you today. I'm so sorry. I found this little "get to know you" list on a blog and decided it would work for this week's Bits. Enjoy!


A is for Age… 31. That still seems so strange to me. I am growing accustomed to it, though. When it first arrived, I blamed everything in life on my age. Over and over, I’d say “It’s probably because I’m 31.”

B is for Bed… I have a “cheater” king bed. I can’t get a king mattress into my room, so I have two twin mattresses pushed together with a foam connector running down the seam to make it work as one bed. Love my bed! The cats love it too. I accidentally knocked Kaegan out this morning because I didn’t know he was there. Woops!

C is for Chore… HATE cleaning litter boxes. And the toilet. See a theme there?

D is for Dog… I once had a Chihuahua named Lassie. You may stop laughing now. Seriously. Stop!

E is for Essential… I m-u-s-t have a fan running while I sleep! If I don’t have white noise, I can’t sleep at all. Makes vacations fun when I’m sharing a room with someone who can’t sleep WITH one.

F is for Favorite… TV show coming back this fall? The Biggest Loser! I’m actually watching a marathon of an old season of it right now. Love watching those transformations. And I cry nearly every show of every season. I’m sure that shocks you. But it’s just so beautiful when they succeed!

G is for Gold… And I don’t have any broken, mismatched, or unwanted amounts of it to send to Cash 4 Gold. I hate their commercials.

H is for Height… 5’6” – taller on a good hair day! Tallest person in my family too, thankyouverymuch.

I is for Instrument… I took piano lessons for eleven years. I can play chopsticks. Sort of.

J is for Job… which is what I’m very thankful to have, even when it makes me feel like I am truly going to lose my mind.

K is for Kids… and since I don’t have any, I can sleep through the night and until eleven on Saturdays if I so desire. But God has blessed me with great kiddos all over the place that have adopted me as an aunt, and I love them!

L is for Living… the best year of life yet! I am having (seriously!) the greatest year ever. And there are many more fun plans waiting in the wings between now and Christmas!

M is for Mustard… I despise everything about mustard, but I adore honey mustard. My favorite is Bob Evans’ honey mustard. I buy it by the pint.

N is for Nickname… Well, for being the girl whose parents did not like nicknames, rendering me “Rebekah” for all my growing up years, I seem to have quite a few now! I was dubbed “Princess” in college and a bunch of my college friends still call me that. Bekah Boo...Bekah Roo...Bekah Bek...many others. I also answer to Julie, since most people get me mixed up with my sister.

O is for Overnight… which is how quickly I wish my hair would grow! I hate waiting!

P is for Pasta… Oh yes please! Bring me my carbs! I love pasta and eat a lot of it – especially in the winter. It’s great comfort food.

Q is for Quote… the one I used yesterday during lunch at work was from Friends. Do you know who said it? “I grew up with Monica! If you didn’t eat fast, YOU DIDN’T EAT!”

R is for Right… “I know, right?!?!?!?” I spent most of my shopping day out with Julie teaching her how to appropriately use that phrase!

S is for Sibling... rivalry. Something my sisters and I never experienced in the traditional sense. Not much to rival with our age gap!

T is for Time… to SLEEP! I have missed doing that lately. Two hours of a blissful nap this afternoon greatly helped my mood.

U is for Under… the weather is what I so fear happening in the next couple of weeks. Students and all their germies have descended upon campus. It’s a swine flu festival waiting to happen.

V is for Vegetable… I’ve heard of those.

W is for Watermelon… I l-o-v-e watermelon, and I’m quite excited about the seedless ones!

X is for X-Ray… Had one once. I was eleven and had fallen off my bike. They were trying to determine if my leg was broken, but the spot in question was directly on a growth “line” in my bone, so they couldn’t tell if there was also a fracture. I spent a whole weekend flat on my back until the specialist could read the x-ray on Monday.

Y is for Yummy… which is what I think about Culvers! We just got one and yesterday was my first time to go! MMMMMMMM mixers....

Z is for Zoo… Didn’t make it there this year. Love the dolphin show the best!

Labor Day Marathon

...Not of the TV variety, unfortunately.

This weekend has been...and will continue to be...busy. I did, in fact, survive the week with most of my brain cells still intact.

Last night I was invited over to my friends' house for dinner, a movie, and bonding with all my kiddos, including baby James. I informed them I might not be super intelligent, but I'd be happy to hang out with them. When I walked in the door, Savannah and Liam smothered me with hugs and kisses. Savannah read to me from a book about puppies. She is QUITE the little reader these days! And Liam just killed me with his one-liners. He is probably the funniest kid I've ever met.

James ate. A lot. And he peed on me. I didn't even know it. I knew he needed changed, but when I stood up to go change him, I discovered my entire shirt was soaked - as were a variety of spots on my pants. :) Woops.

I did have a chat with him before I changed his diaper. I said, "Okay James; here's the dealio. We do not pee on Aunt Bekah. Ever. If you have to go, you do it before the diaper opens or after the new one closes. Otherwise, you WAIT." I had that same chat with Liam the first time I changed his diaper, and he obeyed perfectly. We'll see if James does the same.


Don't know if I'll ever have kids of my own. That remains a mystery that only God knows. But there is something pretty wonderful about going to hang out with these three, getting loved on, and feeling the breath of a newborn on your face. I love those moments. (James does too...really. It's just not so much showing in this picture. LOL.)

So that was last night.

Today I had to get up EARLY and go to work. On a Saturday. Today was one of two Saturdays I'm required to work each year. It really wasn't so bad, and I even got to leave on time! WOO HOOOO!!!!

I came home and began phase 427 (it feels like) of the porch overhaul.

Here was the porch when I started. Worn and peeling green paint from decades ago, covered with a dried yellowed glue that reeks like an old lady's house when you scrape it off.



And here we have the primer. It took me between two and three hours to finish priming it. I was so careful to not paint myself into a corner...worked my way from side to side and down the front steps. I cleaned up all my stuff and put it away. That's when I discovered I'd not bothered to unlock the back door. WOOPS. Oh well.

Hopefully the actual paint layer will be applied Monday! Continuation of the weekend marathon!
But already it looks amazingly better. One of my neighbors drove by, slowed down, and yelled out "looks nice!" as I painted. He was probably refraining from adding "was wondering when you were going to address the eyesore it has been for months!"

Almost There...

...It's Friday morning. Only one more day and I can call it a week. It hasn't been such a horrible week. Just a long one. When the alarm went off today I said, "You've GOT to be kidding me!" I am sure I had just fallen asleep!!

Despite that, I got up, worked out (shut up!), had breakfast, and now I'm trying to squeeze in a post before I get ready for work.

I don't think I have anything of major importance to report, since I've pretty much just gone through the motions of work, chores, workouts and sleep this week, but I did want to comment on this post over at Stuff Christians Like.

We used to talk about this at my old church, and this Sunday it came up at my new church too. I'm always glad to know I'm not alone in my rapture-worry. I saw the same movie the post-writer saw, only I was younger. I'm sure I couldn't have been more than five. They showed it on a Sunday night in church, and not too long after that, my parents read me a book on the subject during our family devotions. Now I'm not one to badmouth my parents' decisions in raising me. Who am I to talk? I have no children. I'm not smart. I know that. But I do have to say if I had kids, I'd approach this subject differently than they did because it scared me to death.

I went through a season of life when I was literally petrified to be alone because I was afraid Jesus would come back, leave me here, and I wouldn't even know it had happened because I hadn't been around anyone to watch them disappear. I wouldn't let Mom and Dad out of my sight. If we went to the gas station, I'd go inside with them to pay because I had to be able to see them.

Babysitting was the perfect job for me because I knew babies were safe. As long as I could still see them, I knew I was fine.

The insane fear lasted until I was sixteen and could not come up with a viable excuse for not driving alone. I had to be brave enough to get in a car and get out on the open road. (I solved that by listening to Christian radio...as long as the songs kept playing, I knew I was okay!)

I have to admit, though my Dad loves to talk end times, the topic still scares me and I'd prefer to talk about painting or Wal Mart or root canals or anything else.

So that's my deep dark secret fear...apparently shared by the post writer. Now I know a couple of you who read my blog have had this same fear, because we've talked about it. Anyone else?

"The Week"

One thing I love about my job is that with the exception of the random question at church...at Wal Mart...at the gas station...I can leave work at work. I don't drag home papers to grade. I don't have lesson plans to make. I am not required to check my email or voicemail off hours. I don't get called in for anything. I love that because it gives me ample time to do what I love: scrapping, cooking, writing, eating.

And then there's "the week." It only happens a couple times a year. The week when going to work at four in the morning and staying until ten at night isn't enough time. The week when I know better than to plan to cook an actual meal. It's either drive-thru or cereal. Or both if I'm stressed. :) The week when I have to strategically plan my workouts to accommodate shortened daylight hours and lengthened work hours.

Welcome to my week.

Went to work at 6:30 Monday morning. Yes, you heard that right. 6:30. In the morning. Found out that apparently this week my building doesn't open until 7:00. Not my happiest moment. Leaving on time is...not going to happen. I do still firmly hold to my need for a lunch hour. Must have my carbs. I am careful to have iced tea, coffee, whatever it takes, on hand. I lecture myself that sleep is just not going to happen. Not this week.

I know there are people who do "the week" every week. No idea how they do it. In fact, this week I'm glad I don't have a husband or kids because I have no idea how I'd possibly be a quality wife or mother. The cats are all I can handle during "the week."

So far I'm not super-overwhelmed. The longer work days have been enough to keep the load manageable. Check back tomorrow, though. That's when we have a five hour meeting that could prove interesting upon my return to emails and voicemails.

Seriously. Check on me. See if I'm still sane. If I'm not, you can pretend you don't know me. :D

Bits for Sunday, August 30, 2009

This morning at church, our pastor preached about effective prayer. For the second week in a row, I felt my toes being rightfully smashed, and I walked out of church with notes to ponder and a full mind. As I packed up my Sunday-afternoon-writing-notebook after lunch, I found a little stack of writing tucked under it in the basket. Three years ago, I felt prompted by God to accept a challenge involving prayer, and I wrote about what I learned during my weeks of learning. I glanced over the first part today and decided to share it with you – because I need to hear the words again myself.

Always save the best for last, right? Another good thing to save until last is the topic you’re trying to avoid. That was exactly what I did when I taught a series on prayer to my Ladies Bible Study group at church. For eleven weeks I found a facet of prayer to cover while carefully skirting the issue of fasting. Finally, on week twelve, it was time to don the skirt.

Why did I avoid it so long? Simply put: I like to eat. I shared quite openly with my friends that I grew up thinking – from what I observed and heard discussed at church – that fasting was all about skipping a meal or a series of meals to pray. And being the food addict that I am, the idea never really appealed to me. I admired people that could do it. I just wasn’t one of them.

Several years ago, I attended a wedding with a friend of mine. We arrived early and I sat alone for a while in a row near the back, watching guests arrive. A very tall, thin young man wandered into my row and greeted me enthusiastically. “Hey! Anyone sitting here?” I stared at him for just a moment before I realized I knew him. Only the last I’d known, he was about forty to fifty pounds heavier. I don’t hide shock well, so he quickly explained that he’d lost some weight as a result of participating in a forty-day fast for some people at his church who were battling cancer.

Wow. There I was, counting down the minutes until reception time so I could get in on the food, and he’d given up everything for over a month for the sake of the health of church people. I was amazed he even had the strength to sit up straight at the wedding. Imagine my shock when he further volunteered that he was working a full time construction job that summer.

So this was the sort of image I had of fasting. The Jesus-type fast. Forty days…the heat…the desert…the lack of chocolate. That wasn’t me, I decided. But I also decided that I should at least attempt to teach on the topic before I closed the study on prayer. Having never participated in a fast, I decided to consult the experts. I parked next to my bookshelves and pulled out every book I could find – and there were several. I scoured the table of contents in every book for chapters on fasting. Nothing.

Finally, near the end of my resources, I found one lone book with a chapter on the subject of my quest. Wesley Duewel’s book Touch the World Through Prayer had a chapter called “You Can Deepen Your Prayer by Fasting.” I curled up the couch, determined to absorb a crash course. Interestingly enough, the chapter opened this way: “Why has the mouth of the church so often been closed on the subject of fasting? How has Satan managed to silence so many Christian leaders today on this subject? Though fasting is clearly taught and practiced in both Old and New Testaments, I do not recall having ever heard any other person give a full message on this subject.”

Well! Apparently I was not the only one to be baffled by the lack of teaching on the matter. I continued reading and found myself slowly amazed at what I learned. He didn’t present fasting the way I’d always viewed it at all!

He said, “Biblical fasting is a form of self-denial for the sake of Jesus and His kingdom. It is deliberate abstinence from some or all food for a spiritual purpose. It demonstrates a deep level of commitment and sacrifice…Fasting in the biblical sense is choosing not to partake of food because your spiritual hunger is so deep, your determination in intercession so intense, or your spiritual warfare so demanding that you have temporarily set aside even fleshly needs to give yourself to prayer and meditation.”

So basically, fasting is not for the faint of heart. And it’s not a new diet. It’s not about skipping breakfast once a week so your stomach pangs remind you to pray for a concern. It’s about real commitment. Not a commitment to skip a meal so much as a commitment to give up something important to you – to set aside your desire for that thing – and instead turn full, devoted attention to deep, faith –filled, intercessory prayer.

So I showed up at Bible study that Monday night in late November, armed with quotes from Mr. Duewel’s book, alongside my own grand conclusions.

And I had no idea God was about to take me on a grand journey because of it.

Crock Pot Pizza

I think I first had this at a church carry-in, but the recipe was given to me by my friend, Marie. We'd gone to a party somewhere, and she took this. It was so fabulous that I knew I had to have it. I love to make this when I'm having company, because it feeds several (and would feed several more if I had a bigger slow-cooker!) and can cook while I'm doing something else.

This also makes a great dish to take to someone as a whole meal, which I did just a couple of weeks ago. My friend Rachel was moving, and I figured her time was more needed in the world of packing than the world of cooking, so I made dinner and took it over to her and her husband. She just kept the slow-cooker on warm until he got home and dinner was ready!When I took this to her, I also took over a loaf of garlic bread and some veggies with dip. (And of course, brownies...that recipe coming soon.) Makes a pretty easy meal!

One other nice thing about this is that you can alter the recipe to fit your pizza topping preferences.
The Recipe:

1 1/2 pounds of ground beef
1 pound rigatoni noodles
2 jars of pizza sauce
4 cups of mozzarella cheese
1 can of cream of mushroom soup
1 medium onion, chopped
1 package of pepperoni
1 can of mushrooms
any other pizza toppings you like (sausage, peppers, etc)

Directions:
Brown ground beef and drain. Cook noodles and drain – spray with cold water. Take 1/4 of the ground beef and place it in the bottom of a five quart crock pot and proceed to layer all of the other ingredients. Repeat until gone. Cook on low for four hours. Do not stir.

This recipe was based on a five-quart slow-cooker, and mine is only three, so I've had to alter the amounts of some ingredients. I only use a pound of ground beef, and I don't use quite as many noodles. I only use one jar of pizza sauce, and usually I don't end up putting in quite the whole can of cream of mushroom soup (which, by the way, I know sounds really weird to put in this kind of recipe, but it works, and you can't really taste it).

I actually use the tri-color rotini for this, just to add color to the dish, but I think I've also used shells and bowties, and all sorts of other pastas when I needed something in a hurry and didn't have the normal stuff on hand. And as usual, I skip the chopping onions part and just use the dried flaked onion. Because it cooks so long, it's perfectly fine.
Sometimes I brown the beef the night before I assemble this. Since it only cooks for four hours, if I need it for dinner, I'll often assemble it on my lunch hour. Browning the beef the night before saves a huge chunk of time the next day.

If I do happen to prepare it all at once, I let the pasta cook while I brown the beef. If I'm doing the next-day thing, I don't prepare this part ahead.

Rinse them off...aren't they colorful?

To make it easier, I usually create a little assembly line with all the ingredients, so I can just go right down the line with my layers. I try to just guess at how much each layer should contain, but I admit my bottom layer is usually skimpy and the top layer is packed with all the leftovers. LOL. Fractions were never my thing. One thing about the pizza sauce...if I do end up with some left over, I just refrigerate it and use it for those little pizza-lets later!

I definitely use the slow-cooker liner on this to make clean up much easier!! Just begin layering...

And gradually add the toppings. The more, the merrier!!!

The finished, pre-cooked product! I fill it all the way to the very tip-top.

And after cooking.....yummy!!! This does warm up nicely, so if you have leftovers, they'll still be good the next day!!!!

A Brief Time of Mourning...

...some of you will understand this. Others of you will roll your eyes. It's okay. I will pray for you.

I searched for literally years to find the perfect day planner. Yes, I use a paper day planner. I do not have my life saved in a phone or on a Blackberry or in an Outlook program - because you see, those things can crash. And if they belong to me, chances are good that at some critical moment in time, they will. I love all things paper. I love paper books. I love paper scrapbooks. I love letters in the mail. I love cards. And I love a paper day planner.

You're not going to change my mind on it, so don't even try.

Just over a year ago, I had the most miraculous day-planner moment when I found the perfect day planner. It was an 18 month planner too - even better. I have been using it faithfully for a year and still have a few months left on it.

Because my OCD requires me to plan ahead, I got online to find a refill for my perfect day planner - which, by the way, is in the cutest pink binder.

They

stopped

making

my

planner.



I have no words that adequately express my disappointment in the day planner business as a whole.

I found one that might work as a close second, so I've bookmarked it in hopes that with time, I will learn to love it as much as I love this one.

It's true that I dropped out of my marketing class in college and am therefore not equipped to speak as an expert on this subject, but allow me to say...I'm saddened that the mentality of marketing newer, better, different planners has left me without the one perfect planner I ever found in my whole life.

So for now, I will cherish my final weeks in my faithful pink planner. Sniff

Lowe's Should Love Me

Clarence or no Clarence...I went shopping today!

I had the day off work - one last hurrah before everything breaks loose (a.k.a. the start of the school year). I think actually going to work is easier. I was out in the hot sun sweating up a storm while I worked on scraping the porch.

Have I told you the porch story? I can't remember. Perhaps I should back up.

My front porch is a tribute to the seventies. Or sixties. Or maybe fifties. We're not sure. When I moved in, it had that lovely green outdoor carpet stuff on it - on the steps too - and this great aluminum scrolled post/railing combo. Well, last winter, during one of our fierce storms, half the porch carpet detached itself from the wood beneath and began blowing festively in the air.

LOVELY.

So sometime last spring, I finally got sick of trying to tuck it back down under flower pots and chairs, and I just ripped the blessed thing off the porch. It was so old that it just ripped right up, exposing this gorgeous yellowed glue/green paint porch underneath. It's very Eastern Comets. I'll give it that. :)

I really wanted to strip/sand/stain it, but that was going to be far too much work and some of the boards were in too bad of shape. So for now, I've been working on scraping the peeling paint and the flaking glue off of it, with the intention to paint it NOT yellow or green. Today Mom came over to help, and we worked on scraping, sweeping, shop vac'ing, and washing the front porch. It looks pretty good - considering it still looks like an Eastern Comet.

And then off to Lowe's I went to purchase primer and paint. And while I was there...you know...some porch furniture...and a fire pit.

So I'm going out for some coffee, since it is, after all, my vacation day, and then it's off to assemble my purchases......

Bits for Sunday, August 23, 2009

I had a very dangerous encounter yesterday. No, I was not driving down the Marion bypass, nor was I navigating the still-confusing aisles of Wal Mart. Both would normally be good guesses, though.

I was in Lowe’s, actually, and I ran into Clarence. Clarence is not a disturbing geriatric specimen of a suitor, though again, that would normally be a good guess. Clarence is a somewhat evil tempter that shows up at my weakest moments and dazzles like none other can.

Clarence is the clearance aisle.

At least that’s what we call him in my family.

I’d made my way to Lowe’s to look at mums. Yet somehow the tiny shimmering yellow tags in the next room over lured me in…and suddenly I was rotating through the aisles pondering the curb appeal improvement of patio furniture. I paused at each box, mentally calculating just how much razzle-dazzle the little yellow tag promised and just how proportionate this piece of furniture would appear on either the porch or the patio.

I considered benches vs. tables and chairs. I pondered the compatibility with existing seasonal decorations – but of course should nothing match, there’s a Clarence for that too. I carefully eyed each box to see which would fit in my car and which would require a “DAD!!!!” phone call and a visit from the trusty white van. And I did my best to ignore all notices of “some assembly required.” All those adventures are a “Bekah’s Bits” in and of themselves.

One thing I will say about Clarence…he’s got a lot of family. Because you see, a Clarence bench requires a Clarence fire pit to match. And where there’s a Clarence fire pit, there’s bound to be a host of Clarence accessories...tiki torches, lighters, those little s’more stick things…on and on it goes. And the worst of it is…it the purchases that are not yet part of Clarence’s family, but are still required. Say, for example, a fire extinguisher.

Yesterday – probably because it was so cold – I managed to remain strong against Clarence’s temptations. I did not purchase the loveseat with the coffee table. I did not purchase the bistro set (yet). I did not purchase the cute park bench. I did not purchase the table-and-chairs-for-four. I did not purchase any one of the five fire pits I perused.

And I did remember the mums.

Which, by the way, had nothing to do with my friend Clarence.

Remember This?

Yep! That's pretty much how my yard looks now. I hadn't mowed for almost two weeks because it's been so dry that it wasn't necessary. The weeds, you understand, are growing magnificently, but the grass was breaking under my feet when I mowed. Well it has now rained. And rained. And rained. And rained. (I think you can see why it's now THREE weeks since I mowed...)

And now I have a bit of a problem on my hands!

Here's to hoping the sun I see STAYS PUT until I can get off work and begin the trek through the yard, peering over the top of the grass....

After that I'm scraping more paint and glue off my front porch. Please don't be jealous of all my fun. I realize it's nearly too much to absorb.

The Big Five Five

Today is my parent's fifty-fifth wedding anniversary. Five years ago, my sisters and I planned an open house for them. So many people came through to congratulate them...we ate a lot of cake...we took a plethora of pictures...I thought it was a fun party. Hopefully they did too!

This year they're taking a trip to the bulk food store. The celebration goes downhill fast in five years, apparently! :)

I sent them on their merry way with a gift card for a nice dinner out. Not that they'll be the least bit interested in eating after their hot date at the bulk food store. Mom is buying some spice. Lemon zest or something like that. Dad will probably get a big jar of those orange chewy peanut shaped things he likes. I think they're horrible. But that's okay. More for him!

And I will just sit here and wish them well - and remain thankful to have parents who have persevered that many years!

Sigh of Happiness

I went to work at 6:30 this morning. I don't believe in 6:30 in the morning. In fact, I don't believe in mornings at all. But tis the season to be behind on work, so I went in to try to catch up. And by catch up, I mean try to stay alive.

I guzzled coffee. I took walks. I had a giant iced tea. But the thing that really kept me going all day was the knowledge that right after work...massage time.

Some people get massages all the time, and if you don't tell, I'll confide in you that I envy them. I love a good massage, but I don't love the price tag that accompanies them. Therefore I only get one about once a year.

Tonight was my night.

And here's what I have to say.....ahhhhhhh.

Bits for Sunday, August 16, 2009

Today was baby James’ dedication. I sat in the front row of the sanctuary (just for that…don’t worry…I’m still partial to the back of the church!) two cameras in hand, snapping pictures of a snoozing sweetie who was oblivious to the significance of the moment.

Chris and Trudy promised to teach little James the ways of the Lord, while big sister Savannah flashed a gigantic smile to show me her very first gap created by a lost tooth. Big brother Liam squirmed ferociously to get down and move on to the next activity while the church family behind me stood to their feet and vowed to support this family in raising a new little life to know about God’s love. Even when he’s five and running in the halls. (See, Brian? I was listening!) Perhaps especially when he’s five and running in the halls.

Though my time in the moment was consumed with photography, listening, rescuing the bottle when it got in the way, and making goofy faces at the kids, I later had time to think about that little ceremony and what it means.

I was just two days younger than James when my parents stood at the front of another church and promised to do their best to raise me to know the Lord. And that wasn’t a task they took lightly. Dad told me bedtime stories every night – straight out of the Bible. Mom taught me memory verses and how to tithe. They rehearsed lines with me when I had a part in the Christmas program. They taught me to sit still in church, listen to the sermon even when I didn’t understand all of it, and learn the words to the hymns. When I got older, they carted me back and forth to bell choir practice and youth group. And they always made sure we had daily devotions as a family – even when I rolled my eyes.

A baby dedication is a nice service. It’s a chance to invite the grandparents, aunts and uncles, dress up in fancier-than-normal clothes, take some pictures, and have a special announcement in the bulletin. It does make a fabulous scrapbook page and a pleasant memory.

But it is so much more.

It’s a declaration of a permanent commitment to work incredibly hard. To pack a lifetime (it seems) of spiritual truths into just a few short years. To be on a vigilant watch for teachable moments. To remember that sometimes the greatest lessons are not purposefully taught but simply lived.

Baby James missed his entire dedication and the after-church photo shoot where he was passed from one set of loving and eager arms to another. When I had the chance to hold him for just a few minutes, he snuggled up close and continued his nap. And even though I’m not his mom, and my moments with him will be sporadic, I know I want to make those moments count.

I’m thankful to have the opportunity to have these adopted nieces and nephews to love and invest in. I am so glad to have been in that church service today, snapping pictures, but I also recognize the responsibility that goes beyond those ten minutes. Even for an aunt.

Baby Dedication

Today I went back to the church I used to attend so I could be there for James' baby dedication. I'd not visited since I left a year ago, so I was a little bit nervous to go back. But everyone was very nice to me, and I appreciated that!

Pastor Brian did the dedication - his first ever, he said! I thought he did a great job, and he was even thoughtful enough to ask if everyone was in a good location for the pictures. :)

James looked SO TINY today. It was the first I'd seen him since he was born. (Looks really different in clothes! LOL) Anyway, he's a little snuggler, which makes me so happy. I love snuggly babies. Loud ones and stinky ones...ehhh, not so much. (just kidding!)

So here we are. Chris wanted me to turn him around for the camera, but he was so comfy I just didn't want to bother him. So we modified. With me is Kathy, who was their doula. (If you don't know what that means...neither do I, really! She was part of the birthing team. She and I were there for all four kids.)

The Cure-All

...for weeks such as this? A day at the lake. I was tired of feeling beaten up AND down at the same time. It takes a special kind of talent to experience both at once. :) My friend Ronda asked if I was busy this weekend. Amazingly enough, the answer was no, so she invited me to visit her at the lake.

OKAY!!!!

I'm fond of lakes in a sit-and-look-at-them sort of way. But to voluntarily crawl in fish-hooey infested waters and watch seaweed drape across my arm...it's not really my thing. But Ronda talked me into it! Take a good look. This is me IN a lake. Not AT a lake. IN a lake. And this is Ronda, who cheered me so.

Ronda was dog sitting for her daughter, so this is my new friend, Addie. I'd tell you her breed but I don't remember. I'd never heard of it before. She was beyond energetic, but she was cute! She does not like water, so we put her on this raft. She didn't like it either.

Ronda braved getting the boat out by herself and did a FABULOUS job. This is the view of the great big houses....from the swimming hole.

I could take those, you see, because I was not IN the swimming hole. I was being conscious of my straight hair, so I stayed in the boat. LOL. Ronda said I was being a diva. YEP!!!! Addie and I hung out in the boat.

After a while, she did get brave and managed to peek over the side of the boat.

So that's a tour of the day at the lake. It was complete with grilled sausage and corn on the cob and pasta salad...mmmmmm. And of course, a sunburn. I'm going to look SO CUTE tomorrow.

OH! And I just wanted to take a moment to say that I did successfully help get the boat back in the lift and up out of the water. I think the fisherman behind me got quite an entertaining view during that adventure.

Journals

I should be sleeping but wanted to post this before heading to bed.

A few months ago, I bought The Journals of Jim Elliot. At 475 pages, it's significantly longer than most books I buy, but his life so fascinates me that I wanted to read his raw words. I'm reading very slowly, as his thoughts are full of meaning that I want to absorb and appreciate.

Because I know he and I think along the same wavelength, I bought the book for my brother-in-law for his birthday. We chat about it now and then...about what we're learning and how we're being challenged from words scrawled in a notebook years ago.

I love journaling and do it in a variety of ways. My scrapbooks are journals of sorts. I have actual journal books. Even the Bible studies I write become journals when I share details of my life events and how they relate to the topic at hand.

This week has drained my heart...and by tonight it had sapped much of my spirit, too. I was the girl out on the running path who occasionally could be seen swatting bugs and wiping a random tear. Interesting and maddening how the words of someone I don't even know in real life could affect me so profoundly. How I can hear them echoing in my mind as I run...as I cook...as I try to fall asleep at night. How his opinion of me, which I will not repeat in polite company but can assure you is less than favorable, has caused me to question everything about who I am.

It makes the moments profoundly lonely when I am caught up in those thoughts and have no one to pull me away from them or refute them.

When I came home from my run tonight, defeated by the thoughts, I sat down with some journal entries I wrote a few years back after a deeply moving seven-week encounter with God. I shook my head at my own words, hardly able to believe they were coming back to encourage me. I hadn't intended to be my own audience, but I found comfort in the lessons I learned in a little prayer chapel. I am so thankful I took time (on the spot) to document that time in my life, as I'd forgotten much of the detail. But God is a God of detail and faithfulness.

And for that, I am thankful.

Have You Thanked Your Parents Today?

My dad called yesterday. The man can talk for hours (and I do mean hours) out and about. He can turn a trip to the bank into a three hour excursion. Two minutes of banking and two hours and fifty-eight minutes of socializing. But when it comes to the phone...at least with me...it's "less is more." He knows I normally call to chat with Mom, so if he answers, the conversation is something like this: "Hello? Hi, hang-on-I'll-get-her." Bless his heart.

If he does call to talk to me, it probably means I'm late for an oil change. (Which reminds me....better look into that!) Or...he wants to know what time my lunch hour is tomorrow so he can make connections with me to drop off a sack of stuff from Mom. Or...he ran into so-and-so at the bank and they said to tell me hi. That sort of thing.

Last night he called, and I was (shock of ALL shocks) on the phone with the internet troubleshooting department, so I couldn't take his call. Once I was up and running...again...I called him back. He said he just wanted to tell me he really liked "Bits" on Sunday.

I about dropped the phone.

It's not that he dislikes them any other week. It's just that he's normally neutral about the writing. To have a special long-distance phone call just to tell me he liked what I wrote was the highlight of my day. It reminded me of the Sunday when I stood in the bathroom straightening my hair before church, listening to Dad on the radio, and I heard him begin to read aloud some words that sounded very familiar. Then I knew...they were my words! He'd never read my stuff on the air before. I ran around the bedroom squeaking quite unceremoniously, scaring the cats. But to hear my own words through the radio waves...from my own Dad...that was exhilarating.

Affirmation is good.

And because I had so recently experienced that joy, I turned it back around to him (to both my parents) today. I can't go into the specifics, but I had an encounter today that made me so thankful my parents had never been "those parents." Sure they loved me. Sure they went to bat for me. (Shoot, Mom's still going to bat for me at 31!) But they knew how to say no. They knew where to draw the line and even though I thought some of their decisions were mercilessly unfair, they stood firm. And now, looking back, I'd probably have done the same thing they did. And I told them so...when I called to thank them. I probably owe them something far greater than a "thank you." But I thought it just might make their day.

Bits for Sunday, August 9, 2009

I worked on writing a Bible study today. Those are always quite a production here in Bekahland…Bibles spread all over the living room, notebooks with all my late-night research scribbled inside, and the trusty computer ready to take on every word I write down. A few hours later, I emerged with a study mostly written. Well…entirely written, but still in need of some tweaking.

In the course of my research, I found this sentence in a Matthew Henry commentary, and it stuck with me. I was researching Peninnah, the “other woman” in the marriage of Hannah and Elkanah. Peninnah was the one who had the kids Hannah longed for…but she didn’t have Elkanah’s love…because he reserved that for Hannah alone. The commentary said, “Peninnah could not bear the blessing of fruitfulness, but she grew haughty and insolent; Hannah could not bear the affliction of barrenness, but she grew melancholy and discontented.”

Peninnah could not bear the blessing.

Wow.

Hannah’s problem was a social curse. To be childless in those days was disastrous. Men needed children…sons, especially. It wasn’t just about carrying on the family name, although that was part of it. They needed children to help with the family work. They needed warriors to protect their people. Women needed children to provide for them when they grew old and were widowed. To not have children…was unthinkable.

Peninnah’s problem was a personal curse. More than likely, she was brought into Elkanah’s life just to bear children, since Hannah could not. And that is exactly what she did. The Bible doesn’t say how many, but it implies that there were several. A household filled with a wonderful mix of personalities and potential. Little creative minds just begging to be cultivated into all they could be. Cuddlers and pranksters, jokesters and thinkers…little lives bubbling with promise and hope as little lives do best. Teachable moments in the family tent…storytelling around the fire after dark…watching the blossoming interests even in childhood. Hers was a rich and blessed life! And yet she could not bear the blessing.

Made me wonder if I’m unable to bear the blessing, too. If I’m missing the glory of what I have because I’m too engrossed in what I wish I had. If I hurt God’s heart when He sees me choosing to overlook what He has placed in my life. Choosing to focus my energies on trying to coerce him to see things my way.

I don’t want that to be my legacy. I don’t want people to look over my life – now or when I’m gone – and say I was unable to bear the blessing. I want to embrace it. Live it fully. Love every minute.

Peanut Butter Cookies

I am always on the lookout for "the perfect cookie" of every variety. I've told you that I've tasted the perfect chocolate chip cookie, but I don't have that recipe, so the one on my list is second best. This peanut butter cookie, however, is as far as I can tell...the perfect cookie. I found the recipe on the little wrapper that surrounds the Crisco sticks. Normally I balk at such recipes, much preferring the ones that come from sources I know. But I gave it a shot, and WOW I'm glad I did!

These cookies - at least in my house - sure don't last long. I could pretty much eat the entire batch as it comes out of the oven. Perfect with a big glass of milk. I'm not even kidding when I say these melt in your mouth!!

The Recipe:

3/4 cup creamy peanut butter
1/2 cup butter flavored shortening
1 1/4 cups firmly packed brown sugar
3 Tablespoons of milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 egg
1 3/4 cups flour
3/4 teaspoons baking soda
3/4 teaspoons salt

Combine peanut butter, shortening, brown sugar, milk, and vanilla in large bowl. Beat at medium speed until well blended. Add egg. Beat until blended. Combine flour, baking soda and salt. Add to creamed mixture at low speed. Mix until blended. Drop onto greased baking sheet. Flatten into a criss-crossed pattern with a fork. Bake at 375 for 7-8 minutes.

I use the Crisco sticks for the shortening because I hate measuring shortening in a cup. I use 1% milk in my cooking and it does fine in this recipe. And as always, I use pure vanilla extract, not imitation.

I use my Pampered Chef Measure-All cup for the peanut butter because again - hate the mess of measuring in a regular cup!

When I mix things by hand, I usually melt the shortening first, but since this uses an electric mixer, I just put it in without melting it. This is the peanut butter, shortening, brown sugar, milk, egg, and vanilla. I just throw them all in at once.

It mixes together very easily and is a rough texture after it blends.

I mix the flour, baking soda and salt in a separate bowl and pour it in a little at a time, trying not to let powder fly all over the kitchen!

Once it starts to get thick, I switch to mixing with a spatula by hand. This is partly because my best mixer broke and I haven't yet replaced it. And the mixer I still have is kind of low-power. I try to help it out when I can. :)

The finished product is pretty thick.

Don't forget to grease the cookie sheet! Most of my cookie recipes don't call for that, but this one does.

To try to help the whole health situation (HA!) I don't dip the fork in sugar before I make the criss-cross pattern.

Mmmmm. Kinda wish I had one right now! Very yummy!

Busy Busy Busy

I thought life would slow down once my waiting game ended. WRONG!!!!

We have entered our busy season at work, which means the added potential of going in early or staying late just to stay afloat. I anticipate that beginning next week, I'll have the phone glued to my little ear, and I'll be saying "Grand Central Station...how may I direct your call?"

I spent the last few days catching up on all the things I didn't quite get around to in the baby-waiting-game days. I made a ton of cards. (I told the post office lady on Monday that I thought it was my personal record for number of cards sent to one household in one day: five.) I got mostly caught up on the scrapping. Just a couple of undone pages to tidy up. I cleaned the house. Sort of. I conquered the visible dirt, at any rate.

And then of course, there were the "schedule time out to accomplish this" tasks that had gone unscheduled during that time. Yesterday I had my hair thinned. People, I know that I should be grateful to have a lot of hair, and truly, I try to be, but my GOODNESS!!! I had become a chia pet! It was not good. I also had to get my phone upgraded, because I was way past due for that. My poor phone has been issue-laden for a while due to a rather unfortunate encounter with a wall. Long story.

A couple of days ago, I cooked a meal for my friend Rachel, who is moving soon and needs to focus her time on packing, not cooking. Who has time to cook when there are boxes screaming, "PACK ME!" You should be glad I made that meal...two more recipe posts came out of it!

I started the second half of my blogging Bible study that a couple of you had asked about. I'm learning so much from the girls who are part of that with me!

And...I'm doing some research for a little vacationlet I'm taking with a friend this fall. It cracks me up that when most of my friends begin a sentence with "I'm doing some research," it's for a graduate degree. When I say it...it's all about the travel, baby. All about the travel.

To conclude our time together, here's a bit of trivia for you today. This has been bugging me for some time. Why are the number pads on phones and calculators upside down from one another? As a person who works with calculators all day...and also returns phone calls all day, this can become problematic. I have the potential to either call the wrong person or give someone REALLY bad financial advice! To make my friend Kristin proud...I googled the situation and found a semi-fascinating answer here.

Bits for Sunday, August 2, 2009

If you've not seen the two posts below, you don't know that the little baby I have been waiting…and waiting…and waiting on was finally born this week. A couple of weeks I wrote about my not-so-patient waiting game, and it turns out that was just boot camp for my nine hour pace-n-pray in the hospital on Friday.

I arrived at (a.k.a. moved into) the birthing center Friday about 1 in the afternoon. I had stopped by the Gaither store for a shopping spree/writing brainstorm/giant iced white chocolate mocha dream. I also squeezed in a trip to the nearby Hobby Lobby to breathe its air. Then, armed with a Biggie iced tea and a backpack loaded with my computer and camera stuff, I stepped off the elevator and into a candid-camera trap. Since Liam’s birth three years ago, the hospital added a security entrance between the elevator and the maternity ward. The directions said to ring the doorbell, listen for the click, and open the door.

Problem #1 – two doorbell looking devices. I was afraid one of them might be an alarm in disguise, and I certainly didn’t want to send a multitude of laboring women into distress by pressing the wrong button. I took a guess, pressed a button, heard a click, and pulled on the door. Nothing. Repeated the process about 10 times (literally) and finally heard this little elderly voice calling out to me from the other side of the door, “JUST PULL!” I am!!!!!!! Somehow I finally got the door open and made a joke to the lady about being smarter than the door.

She just stared at me.

Well at least I’m not here to give birth! Not passing on the stupid genes to anyone else!

For the next several hours, I hung out in good old room six, watching contractions on the monitor, checking status updates online, watching TV, watching contractions on the monitor, pushing the portable IV cart for laps in the hallway, sending text updates to my friends, offering random words of encouragement, laughing at Chris when he picked up a little brown cup of “chocolate pudding” off the bedside table only to find it was definitely NOT chocolate pudding, and watching contractions on the monitor.

About mid-afternoon, I moved into praying mode. As the contractions grew closer together and more intense, and as the clock crept closer to midnight, I began to pound on the door of Heaven. I knew that they wanted…they needed this baby to come before midnight. After midnight, it would be August first, and that day was their first baby’s birthday…a day they needed to be reserved just for her memory. The doula and I stood right outside the door to room six, asking God to please extend kindness and mercy to them and allow this baby to come before midnight.

And then we went back inside for the last of the adventure. And that’s when the pacing began. As the nurses and midwife and doula and Chris stayed close to her bed, I stayed close to the cameras, making sure everything was ready when the time came. And during every contraction, I walked slowly back and forth across the room, praying for enough strength to get her to “the next crack in the pavement.” God heard from me quite a bit that evening.

And finally, just after nine, little James made his appearance. I cried…just like I cried for his two big sisters and his big brother. I cried because I realized what an amazing privilege it is to be trusted to be part of such a beautiful and life-changing moment. I cried because I got to witness something that some people never get to see, except for through a TV screen. I cried because the absolute joy that follows such absolute pain is something I never see anywhere else. I cried because God heard the prayers of a pacing girl in room six…and granted mercy and kindness in the time of need.

Just moments after his birth, I got to hold little James and have a chat with him about life at Aunt Bekah’s house. I told him about how much fun he would have when he came to visit the kitties…even though they’d hide from him. I told him to get used to the camera because it isn’t going anywhere.

I’m so glad to have had the opportunity to be on the welcoming committee for little James, and I can’t wait to watch him grow up!

It's August First Again...

I love this little blog and all the friends I've made along the way. I truly do love logging on every day to see what everyone has been up to! As a writer, I know that not everything I say is going to be noteworthy...but I do hope that what you find here either entertains you or educates you or makes you think.

So I'm pretty excited to have received an award from Stephanie whose blog is one of my new reads. I'm enjoying her posts...hop on over and check her out! Anyway, thanks, Stephanie for the award! I have only ever received one other one, so I still haven't prepared the official acceptance speech. :)


I am supposed to tag five blogs, but I truly cannot pick from my family of blogs. You all are superior scribblers to me! TAG!!!!!!

If you haven't seen the post below yet, you might not know that baby James arrived yesterday. My newest "nephew" whose arrival has been forever (it seems) in coming. I ended that post of his little newborn pictures by thanking God that he was able to be born yesterday...

...Because today is his big sister, Carol's birthday.

I'll probably write more about Carol and James tomorrow...but this sweet baby girl was the first birth I'd ever gotten to see. Nine years ago today, she was born, and six months later, God chose to take her back to Heaven with Him. It's something we still don't understand...something we still grieve. And yesterday as I stood in that hospital, just down the hall from where I stood nine years ago to the day, I could still remember that moment when she came into the world, and I cried for her right there in the hospital.

It was important to her parents that she and James get separate birthdays, and boy did we pray hard about that for a few hours yesterday!

So even as I celebrate this sweet baby boy...I remember his sister today.

Sweet Baby James

After all those days and days of being attached to my cell phone...and nesting...and doing my nails...and hauling around a backpack with hospital clothes...and ending every other sentence with "if that's not when the baby comes..."

HE'S HERE!!

Sweet baby James was welcomed at 9:13 tonight. Hours and hours of very painful labor for his mama...hours and hours of pacing and praying (done by yours truly)...but they finally merged and this sweet thing entered our world.

This is me calming Mr. James as I had a frank chat with him about how life isn't fair. (No one should have to get that talk at 45 minutes of age, but he was waiting on his bath and he wasn't really happy about it.)

As soon as I put my hand on his little tummy, he calmed right down. For a minute. Let's focus on that minute, shall we?

Well, my hair did look good. Twelve hours earlier. LOL. Love this picture, though. Love this little guy. I've already told him about the cats at my house and how he'll have to get used to the picture thing because it happens A LOT when Aunt Bekah is in the room.

I don't think he believed me about the pictures. He'll learn.

Striking a pose already. What a GOOD GOOD BOY.

About five minutes after birth. DID NOT like the bright lights. I told him I felt his pain every morning when the alarm went off.

Thank you, Lord, for this precious baby boy!!

And thank you for answering the "big prayer..." Thank you for sending this boy before midnight. You knew how their hearts longed for it to be this day.