So I tried Once a Month Cooking...

There's myth out there that something--an appliance, a process, a thing--will somehow make the arduous task of providing three square rations a day for preschoolers and picky husbands less, well, painful. Or at least prevent a few emotional breakdowns. Shopping for, preparing, serving and cleaning up that much food for that many people (who seem to throw more of it on the floor than eat it) makes my head hurt. Every. Day. They keep wanting more food! Please just stop!!!

So the idea of preparing the bulk of my breakfasts, lunches and dinners for the month seems a bit too good to be true. My version of Coronado's gold, treasure at the end of the rainbow, cellulite eraser pen... To have a freezer stocked full of paleo-approved goodness, labeled with thawing directions, is about as good as a visit from Mary Poppins. I need to give this trick a try.

A recent series of wasteful grocery shopping sprees and waaaaay too much last-minute take-out inspired yet another Google search of "paleo menu plan recipes," landing me at Once a Month Meals. Here's what pushed me over the edge to buy a month's worth of groceries and go for it.

I was under the impression that once-a-month cooking:

• saves time
• saves money by cutting down on waste
• saves a bit of sanity
• answers the worst question ever asked by anybody, "What's for dinner, Mom???"

Not much thought was put into do I/don't I do this, because the legwork was already done for me. For $8 per month you get a customizable shopping list, recipe cards, chopping instructions and, most vitally, step-by-step instructions on how to put the month's recipes together in an order that makes sense. What's to consider??? Surrender "minor fee" to the spreadsheet fairies and away we go.

So I end up spending three hours in four grocery stores buying all the junk for an entire month. It's intense. And right off the bat I notice that I'm not impulse buying a single thing. Something I've never accomplished. There's just no more money to spare with spending so much at one time. Unexpected problem solver right off the bat. Plus I was also smarter about picking the place with the best meat specials for the day. Started at Super Walmart for pantry items and kitchen necessities, then off to HEB for produce and weird stuff like coconut aminos. Kroger rounded it out with $1.87/lb. chicken breasts (rock on!) after a quick stop at the natural food store for arrowroot powder. (Why does that place always smell like a seance???)

How much? Well, I used the paleo plan this go around, but didn't buy grass-fed beef or free range chicken, or much of anything organic. I just bought regular 'ole ground beef and cancer-causing, hormone-injected chicken. And the total bill came to $540 for a meal plan for 5 people. That includes our usual produce for snacks and sides. I'll have to buy a few more things here and there throughout the month. It made double of all these things:

Breakfasts

• Apple Spice Cake
• Paleo Pumpkin Raisin Muffins
• Paleo Cold Cereal**

Lunches

• Paleo Creamed Spinach with Chicken
• Orange Chicken
• Crunchy Paleo Chicken Strips
• BBQ Bacon Apple Chicken
• Italian Slow-Cooker Chili**

Dinners

• Paleo Slow-Cooker Pork Tenderloin with Apples and Honey**
• Paleo Beef Lettuce Wraps**
• Paleo Bruschetta Chicken
• Paleo Stuffed Peppers
• Oven Roasted Paleo Indian-Spiced Roast Chicken**
• Slow-Cooker Beef Stew**
• Paleo Eggplant Lasagna

I did have to think on my feet a bit. There was an error in the shopping spreadsheet for the amount f stew meat needed, and I didn't have but 1/3 of what I needed for two recipes--so I incorporated the veggies used for them along with extra chicken. Ended up with a truckload of chicken, so had plenty to reorganize and then poach some for chicken salad. The cold cereal is rockstar awesome. Most of us like BBQ bacon apple chicken. We did alright with the stuffed peppers. But then I screwed up and didn't buy enough ground beef for the eggplant lasagna, so I attempted a mushroom eggplant curry which I tried to choke down. Zero Asian cooking skills.

The actual prep day is still a blur. I remember waking up early and getting started, and at some point took the children out to ride bikes, and then also had a visitor over, but I'm pretty sure it clocked in at 15 HOURS to cook everything. Yes, it hurt. The back, the shoulders--they ached. Completing the baking the night before helped and then I wrapped up three dinners the next morning. They recommend finishing it all in one punishing day, but I just couldn't do it with my four babes five and under.

And I stopped at least twice to do a big sweep clean mid-cooking and then one big clean up after the big day and another one the following morning. There were many pauses to clean bowls and pans and pots as well. Chapped, wrinkly fingers. I hit a wall around 3pm and it laughed at my coffee.

But I have a freezer full of food!!! And I'm more oriented to thinking frugally about using it up. No, it's not the absolute best food I've ever eaten in my life. But it has a decidedly paleo-feel, and I'd get the same results if I surfer the blogosphere for recipes. Many of the selections used are from low-carb bloggers anyway. The kids scarfed down crunchy paleo chicken strips, which will have to be a keeper in the future--nice curry spice to that one.

I'd have to agree that it saves me money in the long run. Our out-to-eatings had gotten out of hand and we were spending close to $900 per month in food. We can shave that by about $150, maintain our weekly date night and Sunday lunch out AND increase the quality of food we eat at home by using this plan. It's doable and I'd recommend it.

One disclaimer:

Anybody can cook for the month flying solo. It takes the mind of a hostage negotiator to cook with four children in the house. Here's how to survive without casualties: Tell them what's going on! "Mommy is going to cook all day." "All day, Mommy??" "All day, children. You can help me with x, y, and z, but you're going to have to find something fun to do while I'm cooking." I saved a new app for them to mess with that day (photo booth) and they experimented with that for quite sometime. They helped me make an assembly line for the chicken strips and learned a good lesson on efficiency. We rotated alone play-time in their rooms, I got out the fort, they got to watch a movie with popcorn when things got really dirty. Get your crap in order with the children and all with go well.

We Could All Use Some Humble Pie

The majority of popular, Facebook-shared mom-blog write-ups I've noticed lately seem to echo the same theme. Parents are bombarded by an over-abundance of "do this, don't do that" digital parenting gurus (or just folks met on the street) who range from faintly smug to downright rude. Moms, especially, become overwhelmed with guilt over which of these opinions to subscribe to and then toil over how "well" they implement the advice on a daily basis. We must rebel, these bloggers proclaim, and declare the "we-know-what's-best-for-our-own-kids" mantra. Stick it to the snarky experts and observers nosing in on our kid-raising business.

Of course there's more than an ounce of truth to their rants. Under no circumstance should anyone offer unsolicited and random parenting advice to anyone at the grocery store. Ever. Nor should we keep our minds completely open to any and all creeds floating around.

But to unabashedly reject all input about how to raise our kids is a problem. We say we know best how to raise our own kids, but does that mean we don't look for wise counsel? Or recognize the limitations of our own puny, human brains? The older I get the more I see how much I don't know about things. At the same time I also realize how much I'd like to believe I know more than I do. I'm pretty self-deceptive.

Let's say a fellow friend sees you constantly losing patience with your picky eater. She has an older child who walked through the same struggle and notices that the way you respond builds up a wall of conflict between you and your kiddo rather than your intended goal of developing a more well-rounded eater. This friend has some insight you don't have. And you have expressed your frustration with her. But in this don't-tell-me-how-to-run-my-family cultural climate, she is far less likely to share her experience and observations. It takes a big risk of her coming across as self-righteous when she really can (and needs) to lend a helping hand. So she stays quiet and you toil along down a bad path.

What I'm saying is, we need to be open to being reproved, even in our parenting choices, accepting that the advice giver isn't the perfect parent. Because even though she may done a crappy job of potty training her kids, she nailed the picky eater thing. Our initial reaction will be to criticize her potty training and mute her advice to us. But how can iron sharpen iron without an open, trusting dialogue?

It's just silly how quick we are to share our struggles while getting mad when listeners try to help. "But I just need to vent" never helped anyone in this life. Proverbs 9 tells us that correcting a mocker invites insult, but teaching the righteous will only add to their learning. We are prone to self-deception and to ignore help.

Here is a list of excuses I've used in the past and more I've heard from other folks that clue us in to resisting advice.

1. "Nobody's perfect."

This is the most obvious sentence anyone has ever said in the history of the world. It would be more revelatory to say "I have green eyes" than this dumb nonsense. What we mean when we say this is, "Yeah, I hear you, but you have your own junk to work through." Blame shifting at it's most boring,

2. "He'll outgrow it."

There is some truth to this, for sure. But it can easily be used as a crutch for not dealing with a heart issue or addressing how well or poorly I respond to my child.

3. "Every child is different."

Again, yes, we don't employ the same methods on every child, but reading between the lines this means, "You have no idea who I'm dealing with here. Your advice is bunk."

4. "You think you know better than I do what to do with my kid?"

Moms would never actually say this in a playgroup. But think about the times you've observed parents and known a better way of diffusing a tantrum. You actually do know better what to do with that kid than the parent, in that tough moment. It's so much easier to see solutions in other people's lives. That's why we need other wise people around.

5. "Being a parent is just one of the hardest jobs on the planet."

I'm not quite sure what this one means, other than a pithy non-statement designed to cut the conversation short. We can all agree parenting is the most sanctifying (or revealing) experience we have in this life. That statement isn't particularly helpful, though, in figuring out how to navigate it.

This doesn't give us carte blanche to start preaching to each other, then demanding to be heard. A word fitly spoken is delicious, edible, devoured by a wise listener. But it's not our job to force the listening.

Let's face it. Not everything goes in parenting. There are many, many ways to screw up a child. To fall short of what we are called to do as parents is a serious, heavy consequence that we may not chalk up to random chance. While we don't have to be condemned to guilt and punishment over our parenting through the sacrifice Jesus Christ made, we still strive to repent and get going in the right direction. We must be sensitive to first following the perfect Parent's wisdom on growing godly kids and then be open to counsel from others we trust.

End of sermon.

Kid Quirks: Dirty Old Men and Pwetty Dwesses

Kid quirks seem to be as unique as DNA. Hubs and I busted many a gut over the Hot Tamales pre-verbal gargle. It was a hyper-fast hybrid of Mandarin and Urdu with complicated tongue rolls and authentic inflection. We Craig's List-searched in vain for a translator and never could locate someone qualified enough to interpret. SkippyDon is a different story at her googley-gargle age.

He belts out laughter, dirty-old-man style. All he needs is a cigar hanging out of his mouth.

SkippyDon inherited his daddy's bass octaves with a raspy twang. It's delicious and adds to the overabundance of charm he already unabashedly flaunts. It starts when he cracks himself up (usually at the start of a heated peekaboo game) and grows into a full Wizard of Oz Lion guffaw. Get him going in a public place and watch the women and children either flee from that surely-sinister sound or shower him with kisses. Apparently SkippyDon's Sunday school was a blast last week. It's embarrassing and perfect all at once. Baby Huey better watch his back.

As deliciously peculiar and seasoned as his laugh is, Hot Tamale's fashion sense rivals a close second.

Only "pwetty dwesses, Mommy" with a scolding don't-even-try-the-shorts-and-t-shirt-today glare. Before Grimaldo Garage Sale Extravaganza I sheared every last pant, short and "regular" shirt from the closet. She now has only dwesses, tights and fashionably acceptable shoes. And she's also taken the reigns as my personal clothing assistant. Pretty hearts are more important to Jesus than pretty clothes, my broken record repeats.

I've even surrendered the "give the kid two options from which to choose Love and Logic approach". Just let her pick it out and forgo a morning battle. She does a better job than I do anyway.

Among some of my other favorite Hot Tamale quirks:

• The order of bedtime. She's a total Nazi about it. "Weave cwoset wight on, wead two stowies, sing a song and pway, Mommy." Go out of order or omit at your own peril.
• Climbing in the car on SkippyDon's side.
• Watching the Leap Frog Karaoke videos about Meg, Og, Izzy, Gus, and Al. If I ever attempt suicide, full blame rests with Leap Frog. I don't give a fiddler's toot about her learning to read if I have to endure another video.
• Singing at the tip top of her lungs during library story time. Hot Tamale is a natural ABC diva.
• Her wickedly awesome awareness of every object in the house. I never need to look for my keys again, girl already knows where they are.

The singularity of a fingerprint seems so boring compared to these unique traits. I'll end with an apt quote by the infamous Dr. Seuss:

"Today you are YOU, that is truer than true.

There is no one alive who is YOU-er than you."

Round Three! Ding ding!

Oh yes, yes! This is not the result of dark chocolate indulgence. Unless chocolate can sprout appendages and a heartbeat...more likely, this is Baby 3G--the newest download on the block! Babies are just super fun to make. That (mainly) and the fact that we want to put people on the planet that we like leaves us with only one glorious pooping-crying-smiling-tantrum throwing option. Three cherubs under three-years-old.

The Hot Tamale is absolutely thrilled. "Baby's gotta cook. Not induh oven!" she'll tell you in two shakes of a Pug tail. SkippyDon Juan is just looking for the next meal, so he's not quite as impressed. This new little one appears to be growing steadily and wreaked plenty of havoc on my hormones during the first tri to let me know she's present and nearly accounted for. I'm pretty sure she's a she too.

We've had an interesting reversal during the last few weeks. Our Hot Tamales, spicy though she still is, has become such a lover. My favorite phrases from her just this week:

• Daddy, thank you for pwoviding for us.
• Aaron needs to go to his room to calm down.
• Mommy, how's your day?
• Need anyfing else? (after fetching toilet paper for me)
• Mommy, I need to wear a pwetty dwess. Please, Mama? Wif pink tights and shoes?

She's not your kid, so you probably don't care or see just how magical it is for tiny tots to develop a voice. If you knew just how special this was, you'd zoom over here with a camcorder right now. I'm so in awe that I'm going to slap a "My kid can talk" bumper sticker on the Yukon.

While she's becoming quite the hostess, SkippyDon Juan has started to throw epic tantrums. Oscar-worthy, hilarious and hideous blow-outs. Here's how you can have one too:

1. Start bouncing up and down rapidly while whining in a crescendo.
2. Drop to the knees with a loud shout.
3. Fall face down in an all-out cry.
4. Bang head on ground a.) in hard repetitive motions on a carpeted surface; or b.) just once very lightly on tile, making sure onlookers see you do it.
5. Roll over on back to observe reaction.
6. Repeat steps 3-5 as needed.

Don't even fall for those big brown peepers. He's stellar and I'm hiring him as head instructor for the next class of toddler enrollees. Just $289 for an entire semester.

SkippyDon is still a joyous little love (and enjoys the heck out of his new sport Sister Tackling) but his second year of life has been quite a test so far. My sweet guy: the car seat is not demon-possessed. Please embrace the buckle and enjoy the ride. He'll really appreciate having somebody younger to vent with, or on, or both.

Until August, it will still be the four of us, learning our letter sounds and how to sing the entire Wicked album.

Having 19 Kids would be Awesome! If...

Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar have 19 biological children.

How in the crap does she do that??? Oh, and she homeschools. OH, and the family, um kids and parents, built their 7,000 square foot home. What the crap?

I did some digging around on these Duggars. No, I didn't just watch one episode of their TLC show 19 Kids and Counting. I've seen about 15 episodes and read their book. Here's what idiots who like to spew without facts say about them and how I'd respond based on my (voyeuristic) observations:

1. Don't they know about birth control?

Yes, they do. Michelle took birth control early in their marriage when they thought they'd have 2 or 3 kids. But she miscarried after having her first son and realized the birth control she was taking contributed to that. That would be enough for me to change my mind. Birth control is a booger! Ladies, you know how annoying it is to remember to take the pill. Plus those nasty brown spots on your skin pop up. And dishing out $40 a month for that trash? I'd rather make babies too. In fact, I am!

2. They need to stop contributing to overpopulation.

I taught public school. Anyone who's been to a mall in the last month would agree that a little abstinence from people who don't love their Creator wouldn't hurt. An overpopulation of greedy, self-centered brats does nothing to honor God. I'd prefer folks who collect babies like Webkinz, whether they make 2 or 19, to please stop. But watch a Duggar episode and you'll see these kids are respectful, put others before themselves, and put God before it all. Mom isn't yelling at her children, Dad kisses her when he comes home, and they have devotionals every night. Oh the scandal! Mamma Duggar, please have 10 more!

3. It's not fair that the older kids have to take care of the younger ones.

I don't think it's fair you let your kid get addicted to video games. Or be a family moocher. Or graduate with nothing more than useless, forgotten book facts. 51% of high school seniors flunked a basic personal finance exam. The average college graduate is a complete idiot with zero real experience. The Duggars learn about construction (they built their paid-for "mansion" together over 3 years), child care, education, nursing, restaurant management, budgeting, and most importantly the Word of God. Way to go for encouraging your kids to contribute more than disobedient back-talk to the family!

4. They are a burden on society.

While everyone else stupidly "bought" a sick amount of house with no money and then cursed the bank when THEY couldn't make their increased ARM, the Duggars pay cash for everything. Cars, businesses, land, and HOUSES. And no, their parents aren't wealthy. They made huge sacrifices early on to accept having children without knowing if they would have enough space or money to take care of them. They lived in a 2-bedroom house with six children. Then, when they had enough cash saved they bought (outright!) their second and third (the pre-fab mansion) houses. On one income! Michelle homeschools her children and doesn't take advantage of the public school system they generously fund with property taxes. Their children will, in turn, become responsible people who encourage others to do the same.

Kids are NOT burdens! Our culture treats them like collectibles or expendables, but Psalm 127:3 says Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward.

5. Girls wear long skirts and have weird long hair.

And your kids wear black and get piercings. Modest skirts! Shirts that don't show 2 inches of boob! Call the authorities!!! I think this is an individual family decision. While I don't look like they do, if they're convicted to dress the way they do and it honors God, awesome!

6. Those people need to stop breeding like rabbits.

You need to carefully look at each of those children before you compare them to rabbits. They are children of a God who knew them by name and tell you how many hairs are on each of their heads, way more valuable than animals. According to the Duggars, they didn't start their married life intending to populate a school room. It was a decision they made to take how ever many children God brought to them...by enjoying the heck out of each other physically! How is your bedroom life? And the phrase "in God's time" when it refers to babies is ridiculous when birth control is involved. If you're convinced that it's truly "in God's time" doesn't birth control completely negate that? I'm not commanding you to go commando, but at least admit that you're taking matters into your own hands.

7. They had to do a reality show just to pay for the kids.

This is just ill-informed drivel. The only contributions TLC made to the house was hiring a designer to pick colors for their house and helping out with landscaping. Everything else was paid by them.

8. With 19 kids, how would you ever get to know them.

Since Michelle homeschools, she's with her children most of every day. Consider that your children go to a randomly chosen school, sit in rooms with 30 random kids, and get taught by a stranger who may or may not like his job and subject. Then your kids do hours of homework before falling into bed. You get the worst piece of your children while complete strangers teach them things you may not agree in a room full of THIRTY influential (for the best or worst) other peers.

My hope is that this family would challenge us to really think about our notion that 2.5 children is more than enough. That if God truly blesses people with children, then our conception of what children actually "need" is far off the mark than what they really deserve. Please pray about this. I know I am.

New Beginnings

If I'm in a room of kids and adults, I'll always end up with the kids. The reason being: kids are accepting, quick to forgive, and quick to love. They don't judge my shirt stains or whisper that I've put on a few pounds.

This is why when we bear children, there's this exciting part of us that feels we have a second chance. These new beings know absolutely nothing about us. They don't know the stupid stuff we did in college or that we cussed out our parents. We take great pains to create a new version of ourselves for them. Mom knows how we gossiped with the best of them in junior high, but these tiny folks don't.

Don't believe me? People who guzzle gallons of Coke insist their Precious only have water or milk. Great, sailor-worthy swearers take a bar of Dial to their mouths around Junior. Having kids is the only time we truly get a clean slate. A potential do-over to avoid screwing them up like our parents did to us.

Aside from knowing Christ.

It's beyond difficult to understand that God sees his son when he looks at me. He knows I seek comfort in food, worry about stuff that doesn't matter, and waste time he's given to me--but accepts me because I ask him to be my friend. He knows all the ugly stuff, that nobody else could imagine about me, and still pursues my heart. A twisted part of me wants my kids to love me like that without knowing my past, but with half a brain they'll see through the facade after a few short years. They accept me in a passionate, I-don't-give-a-rip-what-others-think-of-me way.

I'm learning from the way they adore me to love God.

I do get a new beginning, but I can't look to my kids for that. Only God issues do-overs.

Attack of the Drone

If you've ever been a teacher or parent (or a dude in front of a football game) you have surrendered to the dreaded automaton voice aka Drone Speech.

I've noticed it creeping up the last two weeks since the Hot Tamale is really pushing the behavior envelope. When I used to work in prison, er public school, ten seconds into Drone Speech would completely unravel classroom discipline. In the family arena, the voice materializes around 4:30 when tempers, dinner, and thinning patience converge. Drone speech invades everyone at one point or another, sometimes in the form of nagging, but not all nagging is automated. I nag vigorously with flare most of the time.

Some people don't even know they have this capability for Drone Speech! Others use it EXCLUSIVELY!!! (And annoy the watchuzis out of the rest of us!!)

How do you know when you're infected with it??

1. Your voice sounds about a half octave higher.

2. You use the words "ok" and "ready" way too much.

3. The children or folks being addressed are completely oblivious to the words coming out of your mouth.

4. You move very quickly and find it hard to focus your eyes.

5. M-o-n-o-t-o-n-e.

We're (God and I) working on identifying when I start to talk like one of those pull-string toys and zipping it shut before it annoys people, namely Hubs and the HT. SkippyDon would heart me even if talked through a creepy voice modulator--he's no yardstick for my parenting success.

Maybe it's as close to an out-of-body experience as we can get, this Drone Speech, because when it turns on I feel about a second behind the present. Deliberate, intentionally chosen, seasoned speech is 80% of discipline. Shoot, it's 80% of relationships! I must slow down, stop to think, and forget pushing my agenda when the Hot Tamale starts to freak out or it gets as nasty as day-old fries.

SLOW DOWN. Breathe. Pray. And focus. The other stuff can wait.