Chubby Cheekers

I'm 5 months.  More like 5 1/2 months.  Almost 6.  In baby years, I'm old.  I'm mature.  Could someone tell that to my mommy?  She keeps kissing my cheekers in public and pinching my rolls.  It's so embarrassing.


Now that I'm a seasoned baby I've developed some pretty great habits.  Like coughing.  I'm a great fake cougher.  At first Mommy thought I was getting a cold.  Faked her out.  I can do it on command.  It's freakishly awesome.  I can also screech when I'm mad.  Crying wasn't conveying how mad I was so I developed the screech.  It really puts the point on the exclamation mark, even if Mommy gives me an ugly face for doing it.


As far as my mobility, I've got it.  I can roll faster than fast, and I have learned to pull myself forward  by reaching my arms out and pushing with my toes.  I can get anywhere.  My favorite place to go is anywhere near my baby cousin.  He has the fluffiest hair.  I just want to eat it.  I love, love, love it.  Why Mommy pulls me away from him, I don't know.


I think that's all I've got going on right now, but I'll leave you with pictures.  I wouldn't want to deprive you of my cuteness.


Love,
Chubby Cheekers

{Me and my best bud}

{Spending my leisure time rolling in sister's sleeping bag}

Random Thoughts on the Olympics

I love the Olympics like a fat kids loves cake.  Here are my random thought after hours of watching the actual games and commentaries...

• My absolute favorite sport is women's gymnastics which should really be called Girl's Gymnastics.  Very few of them are women.
• The new rule that the two top scores only per team advance to the Women's All-Around is ridiculous.  Let the best compete, not the best from each team.  This is the Olympics.  Watching Jordan Wieber cry was heart-wrenching.  She is a better than gymnasts than the other teams sending their two.  It just so happens two of her teammates are just as great.
• I cry with the athletes as they win.  All that passion displayed with the realization that their hard work and sacrifice paid off.
• I cry with the athletes that lose.  
• I am an all around hot mess while watching these games.
• Listening to all the personal stories is just as exciting as the actual events.  I guess I'm nosy, because I want to know it all!
• Being a parent has me watching the parents of the the athletes.  
• I want an Olympic Rings tattoo.
• I don't understand why archery and shooting are apart of the Olympics.  Those are skilled activities not sports.  
• Divers in skimpy speedos is just wrong.
• If I were to enter in the Olympics, I would do gymnastics...or the high dive...or swimming...
• I would not do water polo. I don't like to tread water.
• I have many more thoughts, but the Olympics are on.

PB Chocolate Chip Cake Cookies

Once upon a time I was a high school kid getting ready to head to college.  My brother and I were going to live in an apartment together and I didn't know how to cook (hard to believe, I know).  My long time childhood, middle school, high school BFF did cook.  One big problem.  She was going to OU and I was heading to NSU.  Have no despair.  She put together a cook book for me full of my favorite things she knew how to make.  Gosh, I love her.

One of the recipes she added was my all time favorite cookie made from cake batter.  They are so simple and delicious.  I could eat them all.  No, really.  I ate them all once.  That was back when I could see all my abs and weighed about 115 lbs.

I digress.  Without further ado I would like to introduce the best cookies ever...

PB Chocolate Chip Cake Cookies
2 eggs
1/3 cup water
1/4 cup butter/margarine
1 cup peanut butter
1 package yellow cake mix
1/2 package chocolate chips

• Preheat oven to 375 degrees
• Beat eggs, water, butter, peanut butter, and half of cake mix (dry).
• Stir in remaining cake mix and chocolate chips.
• Bake 10-12 minutes

Told you it was easy!  You might want to go ahead and pick up two boxes of yellow cake mix because you'll have some chocolate chips left over.  You wouldn't want those to go to waste would you?

Menu Monday

YIKES!  I'm pretty late getting this week's menu up.  I blame it solely on the Olympics.  Here's the menu...

Monday-Chili Con Queso Pasta, Corn Saute
Tuesday-Key West Chicken Skewers, Brown Rice, Honey Balsamic Zucchini and Carrots
Wednesday-Dinner Out Before Church (supporting our beliefs)
Thursday-Fajita Bake
Friday-Pizza Bread and Salad
Saturday-Crispy SW Chicken Wraps, Fresh Raw Veggies
Sunday-Dinner at Mom's

The Middle Child

Little Miss.  My only precious little girl in a world of boys.  Two brothers. Two boy cousins. Boy, girl, boy, boy, boy.  That's the order of her in the boy world.  On so many levels she fits right in.  Just yesterday she was working with a shovel showing the boys how to dig a good hole in the empty lot near us.  She was the dirtiest of them all and it didn't phase her one bit. Two hours later she was playing dress up with her Minnie doll.  She's a tom boy and girly-girl all wrapped up in one spunky body.


My Tom Boy.  Notice she wanted her shoes off.  Not five seconds after I snapped this did she have a fist full of mud making a mud castle.  She was also torturing her brother by pretending to chunk mud at him.  She's an ornery one.

My Girly Girl.  She enjoyed the make-up, crown, pretty dress, and sparkly shoes more than the candy.  She whirled and twirled the entire night and looked to Steven for approval.  He's a good daddy for a girl.  She doesn't get overlooked him, and she knows it.

 

She's such a perfect blend of sugar and spice.  She's sassy, but sweet.  Loving, but ornery.  She's daring, but...daring.  She's a little risk taker and fears few things.  She's a...she's a...she's a little replica of me.  God knew what he was doing when he gave us just one girl.  She's all the girl we could handle.  Thankfully, she's got part Daddy in her too.  The world would be a bit scary if there were two of me.  You all know what I'm talking about!

An Encourager Like His Daddy

My husband.  I just love him.  My Little Man.  I just love him. He is so much a little white replica of his father.  He walks like him, talks like him, and encourages like him.  There are few people who can take their kind of encouragement.  I can take it.  It annoys me, but I can take it.  Case in point.

In May I was working hard to improve my 5k time for an upcoming race.  I was running about 3.1 miles in 33 minutes, and I wanted to get it down to under 30 minutes.  Steven knew my goal and was supportive in his own competitive spirit way.

When I would head out for my runs, Steven would take the kids out to play and wait for me to complete my my first 1.5 miles (the loop I take in the neighborhood is exactly 1.5 miles).  He would shout out my time, and then yell, "14:08.  Pick it up, babe."  Geez, I was keeping a good pace.  I was going to finish well under 30 minutes, but apparently he wanted me to finish in 27 minutes.  His goal for me.  Not my goal.  I didn't get a 'good job'.  I didn't get a 'well done'.  I got a 'pick it up'.

Despite my annoyance at his kind of encouragement, it did make me work harder.  If he had good jobbed me, I would have slowed it up knowing I was already under the pace I set for myself.  His hard nosed encouragement worked.  It allowed me to finish my race in 28:16 (official time).

(me and my gal pal, Jackie)

I tell you about Steven's unconventional encouraging tactics so you can appreciate Little Man's encouraging ways.  The night before my race, Steven ran.  Of course he finished in 21:34.  Yes, he ran 3.1 miles in 21:34.  He placed 4th in his age group.  An amazing job.  Of course he wasn't happy because he didn't win.  Such a competitive man.

Anyway, since Steven runs fast he was in the lead group.  We were waiting for him to finish when the walkers passed by us at the tail end.  Little Man was getting bored so he bent down and started playing with some chat in the road.  He was right at the edge where the walkers were passing by.  I didn't even think he was paying attention until he looked up at the rather large lady right in front of him, moving very slow, and said, "Man, PICK IT UP!"  

The lady had to have heard him.  I wanted to die.  My friend, whose husband was also running, died from laughing.  I totally chalked this experience up to him being like his father.

If you think that is bad, it gets worse.  

A few days ago, we were at our neighborhood pool and Jackie's sister was working with her oldest girl trying to get her comfortable with jumping in.  The poor thing was so fearful of the deep end.  She stood so close to the edge ready to jump, but just couldn't bring herself to the actual plunge.  My heart went out to her.  Wanting so badly to do something, but not being able to take that last little step.  Then Little Man swims by and offers his two cents, "Man, you've been standing there FOREVER!"

Yes, another 'I Want To Crawl In a Hole' moment brought to you by Little Man.  At times he is so compassionate and caring, just like his father, but when it comes to physical activity he only understands one mentality.  It goes along the lines of do it to the fullest or don't do it at all.  Just like his father.

Now here's the true confession time.  My friends pointed out the other night that I am the same way.  We were discussing a run that two of my friends did.  One friend piped up that I would have not enjoyed it because there were so many walkers that made it impossible for you to run the entire race. I'm not one to pay money to enjoy a leisure run. If I'm going to run a race, it will be for a purpose.  That's why I've only done 3 races in my entire life.

This next part is very insensitive of me, and I know it...now.  (Thank you, Jackie, Erica, and Melinda for helping me see the error in my ways).  I said to the girls, "I just don't understand why on Earth you would do a race and walk the entire thing.  Unless you're a speed walker or something."

Their faces just dropped and then they started laughing.  They know me too well.  Erica, the wonderful fitness instructor, said, "Amanda, for some people getting off the couch and beginning that first step is a big deal.  Walking the entire 3.1 miles is even a bigger deal."

And then I hung my head in shame...

I am just like my husband, and our competitive spirits have been compounded into one little, tiny boy named Little Man.  May his competitors and coaches be able to handle all of him.  Amen.

Thoughts on CFA and Ellen

I am under no illusion that this post is controversial.  I try very hard to avoid controversy. I don't like drama, but sometimes I speak out. Now is one of those times.

I'm pretty sure you all know I'm a Christian.  I spend a great deal of time working to live similar to how Jesus lived on this Earth, demonstrating love, compassion, and sharing truth.  Jesus rarely showed anger (there was the one time in the temple).  He showed love and truth.  He corrected with truth and love. I am far from being just like Jesus, but I try.

In light of Don Cathy's, owner of Chick-fil-a (CFA), statement regarding not support gay marriage, I've read so many things that slap my Jesus, my God, and other Christians in the face.  I have a problem with that.  Just as I would have a problem with someone spreading non-truths about my friends or family.

Honestly, I don't care if you are a customer of Chick-fil-a or not.  We are.  We love Chick-fil-a, but I don't care if you do.  It's not about supporting a business or not supporting. It's about truth.

I am a believer that the Bible is true.  The whole entire Bible.  Not just the parts I want to be true.  There are times I discover new truths in the Bible and it has me adjusting the way I think and the way I conduct myself. Since I believe the entire Bible is true, I do not feel like I get to pick and choose what I want to follow.  Hence, I am the one who changes.  Not the Bible.

There are a lot of misconceptions about people who follow Christ, mainly because there are a few crazies that call themselves 'christians', and don't live the Christian life.  I am by NO means perfect, but I do try to live what I believe.  As far as gay marriage, I believe it's wrong, just as I believe cheating on your spouse (physically or emotionally) is wrong.

I know many gay/lesbian people.  Do I hate them?  Not at all.  I know many people who have cheated on their spouses.  Do I hate them?  Not at all.  Both groups of people made their choices (yes, I believe in both cases you choose to do what your flesh wants).  I love both groups of people as individuals, but I hate the sin.  Love the sinner, hate the sin.  There is such a love.  I promise.  Others would like to classify me as a judgemental hater, and there is little I can do to change their mind.  I'm okay with that.  I'll just continue to try and live as closely as how Christ lived, and let that be my action to show others.  After all, talk is cheap.

Now that I've given you my Biblical stance on marriage, I want to talk about Ellen.  Is she a lesbian?  Yep.  Do I boycott her show?  Nope.  In fact, I find her show very entertaining.  My sister-in-law (also containing the exact same beliefs as me) and I dream of going to one of her live shows.  It's on our bucket list.  There are many things I love about Ellen.  I love her giving spirit.  She has blessed and continues to bless a lot of people and organizations in need.  I may not agree with her lifestyle, but I don't hate her.  I don't hate her show.

And now, my controversial post is over.  Whew!  I welcome any comments you have on this matter, but they must be respectful.  If not, I will delete them, because I am the author of this blog and what I say goes.  Ahhh, I just love power!!!! ;)