Sunday Potluck, April 20

April 20, 2014

The Sunday Potluck is our way to share all the great posts our members have posted this week.

Pull up a chair at our table! Post your link & get a taste of what everyone else is doing.



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It happened again this week.  I had to walk away from the dinner table in frustration.  That day I had planned, shopped, cooked and I felt good about my week’s dinner menu.  On Monday night I prepared a Mexican rice casserole.  It had beans in it and I knew my 9 year old would turn his nose up at the beans.  The first 3 years of his life I made his dinner and then I made ours.  Then one day I realized how ridiculous and disastrous this habit was becoming.  I made the decision years ago that I would no longer limit my dinner preparations according to his picky desires.  If it were up to him our nightly dinner would rotate between plain pasta, beef tacos, Raising Canes chicken and cheese pizza.

He is a picky eater, there is no doubt about it.  I could make excuses for him saying that he has a problem with certain textures.  That his Sensory Processing Disorder makes eating certain foods and trying new things really difficult.  Both are true but I refuse to let those excuses define him or me.  Falling back on SPD as an excuse as to why he only eats enough to sustain a mouse is a crutch.  He can overcome his fear of green food, I’ve seen him do it.  It’s just really hard and unfortunately I don’t have the patience for it.

Thank God for my husband and the patience he has at the dinner table.  If it weren’t for him my child would have starved by now.  As I watch and listen to 9 year old groans and moans about how horrible the dinner I prepared for him is, my already thin patience starts to crack.  I watch him take the tiniest bite of what other children would love, and gag.  Literally gag and have to force himself to chew and swallow.  When the gagging starts I see red.  When I should be sympathetic, I become enraged.  My husband coaxes him through a small plate of food, coaching him through every bite, while I finish mine and have to walk away.

It’s times like these when I feel like a parent hack.  I know in my head that I should be more patient with him.  More understanding because I watched him go through Occupational Therapy for SPD and emerge victorious.  He has made leaps and bounds over the past 6 years and I should be happy that he will choke down a single green pea without throwing it back up.  Yet, 90% of the time I just can’t bring myself to show sympathy.

I’ve accepted that at the dinner table I’m failing at parenting this child.  That is when I give up a silent prayer of thanks for the man sitting in between us who will be his teacher in How To Eat Like A Normal Person 101.  Because I know I’ve failed this test I remind myself that I will ace other areas of parenting.  We bond over Harry Potter as I read out loud to him each night.  I will sit next to him at the piano and encourage him to keep up the good work.  I will stand firm in my refusal to let him play video games before school despite the fact that all the other kids in class get to play them whenever they want.

When it comes to parenting we can’t all be perfect all of the time.  It is the times that we feel like parent failures, or hacks, when a variation of the serenity prayer comes in handy.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things

(the tantrums, the snotty noses, the spit up, the vomit in the middle of the night, the piles of laundry) I cannot change;

the courage to change the things (the screen time, the negative attitudes, the messy rooms, the chores) I can;

and the wisdom to know the difference

(realizing which battles are worth fighting, which hill I’m willing to die on and when to take a deep breath let it go).

ParentingStephanie Clinton is a SAHM to two boys ages 9 and 4.  She loves their hugs and kisses but does not love wiping their snotty noses.  In her past life she has been a Gymboree teacher, an activity director at a retirement home, a business manager and a celebrity sighter.  She likes to think of herself as a pretty decent cook, artistic, crafty and sort of okay with a sewing machine.  She is a free lance writer, administrator for Oklahoma Women Bloggers and contributor to Metro Family Magazine.  In her free time (if there ever is any) she can be found reading, volunteering in her community, singing, avoiding housework but most of all blogging about her stay-at-home adventures.  Visit her at www.hugskissesandsnot.com

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Cake Shake

April 14, 2014

The other day, I found a gray hair. This is a problem, because I’ve spent a significant portion of my twenties refusing to grow up, and now my hair is trying to proclaim to the world that I am, in fact, an adult. I don’t understand my 401k, I don’t feel like I’m old enough to use an X-acto knife without supervision, and I regularly eat candy for breakfast. (Sour Patch Kids and a can of Dr. Pepper is totally a breakfast of champions sort of meal. Champion of what I don’t quite know.)

Anyway, to top it all off, I can’t cook. I grew up in a family with two parents who are amazing cooks, and now I’m cohabitating with a man who cooks me all of my meals. I’m incredibly lucky, if not completely dependent upon others for nourishment. (See my breakfast of champions above for further proof.)

Not one to be deterred by common sense and good judgment, I thought I would take this post to experiment with a recipe. It’s symbolic in that it contains quite a few of my favorite things. It’s the culinary equivalent of the battle hymn of the overgrown child. It’s the sort of comfort food one needs when one realizes that one is basically a worthless heap of overgrown adolescence in the graying body of what can pass for an adult most days.

And before you all actually take me seriously, let me just say that I’m fixing to put cake, ice cream, and booze in a blender, so don’t go congratulating me on becoming a viable human being just yet.

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Step 1: Go buy some cupcakes. I mean, I guess you could bake them yourself. But it’s 2014 and I derive no pleasure from using the oven. This recipe is kind of all about instant gratification and taking the time to make cupcakes is antithetical to what we’re trying to accomplish.

You should pick one of the more obscenely adorned cupcakes. They have more sugar, generally speaking. Hell, pick two.

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Step 2: Get some ice cream. The bigger the container, the more likely you are to have leftovers for breakfast throughout the week. There’s nothing like eating ice cream from a travel coffee mug while you’re inching along in morning rush hour traffic.

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Step 3: Scour your liquor cabinet for a usable alcohol. Now, chances are you have stuff left over from the one time you decided to make wedding cake martinis for someone’s bridal shower. You can use anything, though I would suggest you go with your amarettos, your Frangelicos, or your Kahluas. However, if you’re a next-level sugar fiend like myself, then you find yourself purchasing and consuming a lot of very niche alcohols. My liquor store keeps them near the front, kind of like where your grocery store keeps all the impulse buys. That’s why I had pralines in the form of booze. Also, I generally have no self-control.

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Step 4: Throw it all in the fancy pants blender you bought so you could make healthy smoothies. Nothing really turns out like you thought it would, does it?

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Step 5: Pour that beast in an imperial pint glass, because who doesn’t need 20-ounces of cake, ice cream and alcohol? In a related story, my jeans aren’t fitting so great right now. Maybe it’s the cake shakes or the ice cream for breakfast. Another symptom of my extended adolescence is the psychological inability to acknowledge that there are consequences for my actions. Or maybe that’s just my sociopathy.

MarisaMohiHave you ever made a cake shake? What’s your favorite alcohol to mix with dessert foods? I’m dying to try some lime sherbet margarita shakes some day.

Marisa Mohi may not be a food blogger but she is the Oklahoma Women Bloggers Blogger of the Month. Find her at MarisaMohi.com.

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Sunday Potluck, April 13

April 13, 2014

The Sunday Potluck is our way to share all the great posts our members have posted this week. Pull up a chair at our table! Post your link & get a taste of what everyone else is doing.  

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Friday Foodie: Flashback

April 11, 2014

When I was a kid back in the avocado green, harvest gold and pumpkin orange-colored 70s, my mom, like most moms on the block, had a green Betty Crocker Recipe Card Library box on the shelf. I used to love perusing the contents of that box, dreaming about the delicious foods pictured on the handy […]

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Wordless Wednesday

April 9, 2014

From Shel Harrington: Taken in Barcelona, Spain. From Jammie Kern: From Mari Farthing: Taken at the OKC Zoo. In memory of Kyah.  

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Meet Marisa Mohi

April 7, 2014

My name is Marisa. I think the best way to get to know someone is by sharing food with them. Or drinks. And if all goes well, then a mani-pedi too. If we went to lunch during the week… I would probably disgust you with the amount of Diet Coke I can consume in a […]

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Sunday Potluck, April 6

April 6, 2014

The Sunday Potluck is our way to share all the great posts our members have posted this week. Pull up a chair at our table! Post your link & get a taste of what everyone else is doing.

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Wordless Wednesday

April 2, 2014

The Mediterranean Sea from Shel Harrington. Hanging out at the Castle from Jammie Kern. The Eiffel Tower (which is 250 years old this week) from Brandi Barnett.

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No Rain, No Rainbows

April 1, 2014

That’s our theme for the month–loosely suggested by the old saying “April showers bring May flowers,” perhaps a bit of wishful thinking contrived back when we were still knee-deep in the snows of winter. I’m reminded daily of how true this is. It’s through adversity we grow; the fabric of our lives must be woven […]

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