When the cats away....

Shh...We have a secret. When Brian is away, the girls and I eat very differently. Before meeting Brian, I could probably have become a vegetarian with little effort. Don't get me wrong, I love a good steak, but after awhile, meat begins to bore me and I am left longing for the variety that only fruits and veges can provide. Most days I set this aside, and in the interest of family unity and my iron issues, fix well balance meals with portions of meat, grains and vegetables. The girls however, have stronger feelings than me. Most nights, my sweet girls sit down at the table asking how many pieces of meat they have to eat in order to be excused. They may not love whatever vegetable we are having, but this is not what keeps them languishing at the table or drives them to hide food under the chair cushions. This honor belongs exclusively to meat.



As a houseful of secret carb and vege loving women, we begin our Daddy free days with pancakes or french toast and fruit and not a sausage link to be found. We lunch on salads and cheese filled pastas and consume way too much chocolate. (another item Brian doesn't really like) J has been a little harder to manage. It must be a male thing, but he hits the bottom of the stairs asking for sausage and eggs, and loves hotdogs. I am sure it is only a manner of time before he insists on either going with Brian or demands to see red meat on the table at supper. By the end of our weekend or business trip, we of course go back to our balanced protein diets. We love Daddy more than our secret vegetarian life style. I would venture to guess he didn't eat a single vege while he was gone so I am sure it all evens out in the end!



Double Chocolate Brownies



3/4 cup butter

4 oz unsweetened chocolate

2 cups sugar

4 eggs

1 1/4 cups flour

2 tsp vanilla

1 bag milk chocolate chips



Heat butter and chocolate together until blocks of chocolate melt. Stir until smooth. Cool slightly. whisk in sugar, eggs, flour and vanilla. Stir in 1 cup chocolate chips. Pour into greased 9x13 pan. Sprinkle with remaining chocolate chips. Bake at 350 degrees for approx 35 minutes

Look What I can Do

L is still army crawling as her primary form of mobility, but she is much faster and can get from room to room with relative speed. She has also begun to pull up to tall kneeling and be able to play from that position. Last night she discovered the kitchen cabinets and had a wonderful time opening and closing doors!

J & L are 3!!!

J and L turned 3 February 26, but the party had to wait for clear spot in the schedule. Grandma and Grandpa got to come and we put them to work all day in order to be ready. Thank you!! J is a huge Mickey Mouse fan and it was a party theme that worked for both. L didn't get the hands in the cake thing on her second birthday, but she did this time. Sometimes we need to be thankful for small steps and I was thrilled to see those finger marks across Mickey's face. J just loved opening presents and being the center of attention. He is the private Ken doll to his four cousins who dressed him up in assorted dress up outfits and then he would run into the dining room yelling "Da Daw!" All in all a good evening. We just won't discuss the artichoke chicken that did not want to cook.

Just Horsin' Around

B has struggled to find an activity she enjoys and lasts longer than six weeks. This fall she began taking horse lessons once a week with the goal of riding contest. She has worked through lots of nerves and struggled to find a horse that matched her personality, but this spring we seem to have found a match. Ginger is a paint that belonged to another young lady in the community, but as she is a teenager now and moving onto other things Ginger was looking for someone new to belong to and B loves her. They have had some wild rides where Ginger did considerable bucking etc as they figured out who was in charge. ( Truth be told, I am still not sure which one of them is in charge.) B has also had to adjust to her instructor. He is really good, but a little loud and has high expectations- thus more than a few tears. Saturday morning, B rode in her first show. She ran the barrels as an exhibition only, but I couldn't be prouder. I did ask Brian how both our girls got interested in very expensive activities that have a show time of 2 1/2 minutes (cheer) and less than 30 seconds (horse). Oh well, no value can be placed on hearing B's instructor say "I'm proud of you, girl." and watching that shy smile cross her face.

Too Cute to Not Post

Copper Mountain 2009

S-C, Brian, J and D. It's Wonderful to have cousins to play with!

Daddy and J tried sledding outside the house. J was a little young for skiing, but we loved watching from the house which was right on the slopes.

B is our ski wonder. She loves moguls and trees!

H tried snowboarding and absolutely loved it.

We laughed on this trip at how much has changed since we started this annual trek. The colors are much more muted. B's brown coat is the new style. We used to all have wild hats, but now we wouldn't dream of sending the kids out without helmets and most of the adults wear them as well. Snowboarders once seemed a little out there. We now have 2 boarders in the group. We are bigger and louder, but still having a great time.

Cowboys

One of the greatest blessing of my life is that I am married to a modern day cowboy. What better way could I explain the man that had me branding and vaccinating cattle before we were even engaged. He looks a little different than the fictional image. Except for "fancy" events he doesn't wear a cowboy hat or boots, but instead has on coveralls and red wings. (He keeps a pair of Crocs under his desk for when he works inside.) As the business has grown, he spends more times in meetings and his phone is always at his side. He hasn't lost his drawl or his do what needs doing no matter how dirty or disgusting philosophy, but he is always on the cutting edge. He is looking for ways to capture methane from deceased cattle to be able to produce electricity. He is a first choice of pharmaceutical companies to run tests on drugs because he does such an amazing job. He can ride a four wheeler through mud and muck to capture lost calves and just a few short hours later be in discussions with college professors and consultants.

He is also a renaissance man. One of my greatest frustrations are people that some how or another believe living on a farm means we don't know about or appreciate culture beyond our back door. Brian has escorted me to CATS and the Russian ballet as well as a few George Strait concerts. He has a more developed palate than I do and I have the culinary experience.

But perhaps my favorite blending of old and new cowboy is the genre of cowboy poetry. We were first introduced to this art form a few years ago when Brian attended a reading by Baxter Black. Inspired and delighted by his writings, Brian came home with a book that he read from after supper for many nights. Listening to him dramatically read the carefully crafted pieces that so mimicked our own life, I fell in love all over again. This year I was unable to attend the NCBA with him, but Brian brought me home a wonderful gift- a collection of poems written not by a cowboy or a rancher, but a farm wife. Oh, how I have savored this prose whenever I have a few minutes to snatch. I am not sure this lives up to Emily Dickinson or Robert Frost, both of whom I enjoy, but for this moment in my life reading cowboy poetry feels a little like having a good friend to tea and for a moment I am not so alone, and my cowboy is a prince.

Outside Circle

by Audrey Hankins

In my youth I envied my cowboy

Riding out, decisive at dawn,

While my fetters of babies and bottles

And cooking and cleaning dragged on.

I wished for a careless, ready laugh

For loops that sped straight and fit.

I could have picked replacement heifers

And done a good job of it.

I longed for that outside circle

And sharing at end of day

As I told my tales of triumph

Over cattle that didn't get away

I was a misfit female wallflower

Watching an all male dance.

Long, long I poised on the sidelines

Waiting, hoping for my chance.

I wasn't invited to his party.

I tagged along against advice

Like an unwanted pup who follows

After you've rocked her homeward twice.

But even a pup who's being ignored

Can pick up quite a bit

And eventually time rolls around

To where the man depends on it.

I'll never make a top hand

Or tie wild cow to gentle tree,

But now as he takes the outside circle

Cowboy calls my name and whistles to me.

Catching Up

No, I have not fallen off the map during the last month as some of you may have suspected. We have been overwhelmed by events and activities, both happy and sad, that have kept us barely coming up for air.


We said good bye to my grandmother and Brian's within a week of each other. Two weeks of funerals is enough to put anyone over, but it was particularly hard on J and L. They did not make the trip to Mississippi, but the separation was a challenge. Everyone deals with grief differently and emotions tend to run high at these times.


We have also dealt with several L issues. She is pulling out hair and harming herself so we had to begin discussions on altering or adding medicine as we continue to look for ways to diffuse some of her frustration. She will be evaluated and measured etc for a wheelchair on Thursday. L is a 3yo stuck interacting with the world from a flat instead of upright level. She needs a consistent form of mobility. Having become fully entrenched in the world of pediatric drugs; those parents questioning the appropriateness of medicating a child don't have a child truly in need of medication. When you child is driven to biting themselves and looks like they have recently begun chemo you are open to almost anything.

On happier notes, Brian and B are both involved with the inaugural season of Upwards basketball at our church. It has gone extremely well. Brian has overseen referees and I think it has a proved a much more difficult job than he imagined. Of course the Upwards season has run concurrent with a crazy cheer competition schedule, so we have often had to "divide and conquer", a parenting plan we both detest.

We finally were able to celebrate Christmas with the Bush family last weekend and held a surprise 60th birthday party for my dad on the Sunday. Good food, friends, family and memories. Lots of blessings for all involved.

Add in stomach flu, sinus infections, H's 8yo birthday slumber party, National Cattlemen's Meeting and a few snow/ice days and it seems the last 6 weeks or so have simply flown by. Here's to a slightly slower spring.

Gotcha Day

One year ago yesterday, we stood in a Russian court room and pleaded our case to a staunch judge and a young prosecutor with a reputation for not playing nicely with American families. We were not only given custody of J and L but a region that NEVER waived the ten day waiting period, did for us. And so began the journey. We rushed from the courthouse to the hotel with orders to get something to eat and pack while Olga began frantic translations so we could be on the 11pm train for Moscow. I have no idea what favors she had to cash in to get people to stay late and push our paperwork through. We were picked up by a driver and a "friend" of Olga's and drove in the dark to the orphanage. We arrived at dinner time and in less than 30 minutes, had signed a few papers, watched food be shoveled into J and L and seen their clothes changed into the outfits we brought. We realized J had a grid like burn mark over half his back, but protocol dictates we not ask questions. The twins were thrust into our arms and hurried into the waiting car.

Both J and L were terrified at the newness all around them. They had rarely been out of the orphanage, let alone at night or with strangers. We flew down tiny roads with little signage to arrive back at the hotel with orders to wait until Olga arrived for the trip to the train station. We did our best to entertain and comfort the new little people we had prayed for so hard. We wanted them to be happy and for that few minutes at the hotel, seemed pretty content with us. It didn't hurt that we had neat trinkets and a non stop supply of vanilla wafers.

Around 10:30, the car with Olga and our paperwork arrived to take us all to the train station. Children in orphanages are put to bed early- think 7 or so. We were long past bedtime and taking them into yet another strange situation. The snowsuits J and L were wearing were too warm for the evening and slippery against our coats. We were carrying diaper bags and luggage. L didn't trust me and instead of snuggling into me was pushing back as hard as she could, making people stare and the trip up and down in front of the train looking for our car seem like miles. We were all four hot, sweaty and nervous. Finally we reach our car and Olga left us. She was coming on a later train. Russian trains are very similar to those pictured on Little House on the Prairie shows. This night it was hot. The twins are very fussy and exhausted at this point. Brian keeps assuring them "Mama has soft blankets to sleep on." Having no Russian, I could only hope the sing song of his voice was comforting.

The trip to Moscow, as all train trips in Moscow are, was long and bumpy. The twins slept fitfully while we watched their every move. We were beginning to realize we had not brought the items L would need. We arrived in Moscow in the dark, and with no translator, were left on our own to find our driver. Thankfully we had been through this stations many times by now and Brian at least acted confident to steer us through it. We arrived at the Mariott at 5am and were met by the embassey docotor. How thankful we were for Michelle's donated rewards points to stay in a western hotel this time. We stepped into our beautiful room with a bathtub, running water, a soft bed and 2 cribs. We closed the curtains and put all of us to bed for a blissful 6 hours or so.

Moscow is very different from our first trip nine years ago. Brian was able to find Sbarro pizza for supper one evening. J was impressed. We took stuffed dogs for both J and L. J was saying "WOOF" before we got home.

We arrived home on Saturday night. We were exhausted, but delighted to see B and H. H chose to stay at a cheer competition until Sunday, but B cam running out of the house in her pajamas, jumping up and down and grinning from ear to ear. She had ballons tied to chairs and toys all set up. She was an absolute joy to watch.

Sometimes we allow the what-ifs to over take us. What if we hadn't gone? What if we stuck to our plan on age and ability instead of allowing God to decide? What if we had listened to the doubts and fears? But then I wipe the tears and thank God that He spoke louder and Brian listened, and we have the most precious children in the world. They make our life meaningful and our hearts full. Happy Gotcha Day J and L!!

Who is this woman yelling in the stands?

Most of you reading this are well aware that I am not an athlete. Never claimed to be. I also would not call myself a sports fan. Okay, I don't really even have a mild interest in anything sports. At a FH party before we were even dating, Brian asked if I was attending the game tomorrow. "What game ?" I asked. He responded "The UK vs LSU game." I think Brian almost wrote me off at that moment. I am not sure his family has ever gotten over the introduction of a band geek.

I still care nothing for most college or professional sports. I follow UK from a distance, but I don't know players' names or even if UK is playing at any given time. I can't match teams to mascots or tell you where the Super Bowl is to be played. But..... When it comes to my own kids and Michael before them, it is a different story. I have yelled at referees and steamed over calls. I have felt personally effected by the outcome of games. I know details. I know rules. I have learned to catch a ball. I enjoy playing softball in the back yard and hearing the ringing sound as the metal bat in my hands connects with the ball firing from the pitching machine. I have heard the ball bounce off the window and corrected the bat swing instead of worrying about the window being broken. I think my mom thought I had lost my mind when I walked into her hotel room at Becky's wedding and corrected H's back handspring form instead of telling her to stop doing it on the bed. What has happened to me?

The worst has been over H's competitive cheering. Before joining this lunatic group, I did not understand and maybe even spoke badly of some of the things I have said, done and observed. Why would any parent put their child in this extreme world of 3 hour practices and long distance drives to competitions? Who wants the intense pressure of being scored and measured on a 2 1/2 minute routine? For us, the answer is simple. H would rather cheer than breathe. She has also been forced to develop discipline and a work ethic that no other activity has ever asked or required of her. She has learned to work through severe mental blocks. During one stretch, she seemed to lose all tumbling ability and could not manage the most basic flip. As I watched her break down on the floor, I fell apart on the arena concourse. This was not about winning or losing, but the mental strength we all need to push through the voices that are telling us we can't do something. She did it. She broke the vice around her mind and is now working on a back tuck. At an event shortly after Christmas, one of H's teammates over rotated in warm ups and cracked her knee on the floor. She hurt and wanted to cry, but the coach asked her for 5 more minutes. Give me five good minutes and then you can fall apart. She went out on the floor and filled her role as a base for every stunt before falling apart. How many adults still need to learn that even when we think we are at our absolute end, we sometimes just have to suck it up, hold it together and give more than we think we can do for 5 more minutes?

Athletics, (cheer, softball, football etc) is not about winning. No, it is not only fun if you win. It is not about making professional athletes although H says this is what she will do forever. It is not about giving parents or grandparents a way to live vicariously through their children. It is not about any one sport being better than another. It is about learning to stick with something no matter how hard. It is being trustworthy so that the girl you are throwing in to the air knows you will catch her on the way down even if you get hit in the face. It is about taking the hit for your teammate. It's giving more than you think you can and pushing yourself to a better you than anyone thought was possible. It's working for nothing less than victory, but playing by the rules and accepting defeat graciously.

No, I am still not an athlete. I still can't stomach the out of control parents who have caused some little league programs to demand silence at games, or whom think their child is heaven sent. I am however a true youth athletics fan. You can find me on Saturdays making a fool out of myself at cheer competitions, or basketball games or softball fields. I'll be the person with the cowbell in the blue wig. (okay, I haven't gone that far.....yet)

Christmas Morning

B and H were the first two up, but they did wait till there was a little daylight as per their parents request. We held them to stockings until J and L woke up. At the first whimper, B and H rushed upstairs and carried them down in total bewilderment.

I think this is an example of not needing to wear everything you get for Christmas at the same time! Brian would also point out that since I am the photographer and the blogger, no such pictures ever seem to exist of me!

J loves Thomas trains and attempted to build track all the way around the kitchen.

H was more excited about the contents of L's stocking than she was, but she was a very helpful big sister!

Pop Rocks

Let it be noted that Uncle Michael is completely responsible for intoducing J to pop rocks. J downed several bags at Halloween with Uncle Michael's help so when he discovered bags of them at Grandmother's, Uncle Michale was once again the man for the job. In order to not make a mess, he lays J back and pours them into his mouth. This looks very similar to the way they pumped charcoal into H when she took the claratin overdose, but they assure me it is fun for all. That is of course until a few fizzy chips land inside your nose! This is when Aunt Kassie is forced to come to the rescue and help J snort out the bubbling rocks.

Christmas Before and After

L's New Wheels

I couldn't bring myself to consider basic mobility part of Christmas, so this arrived a few days early. L has been very mobile and happy in a baby walker, but all the therapists are in agreement it has to go. It does not teach the correct way to walk and is not really helping her. In addition, she is just outgrowing it. This is a special gait trainer that provides her support, but makes her stand upright and place weight on her feet to move. It also allows the use of both braces. She is still struggling to catch on, but in the mean time, J is pushing her all over the house and bouncing off walls. Luckily, it extends far enough out that it is just the walls in danger and not L's head!

Worst Kids Gifts

B and H do not have college funds of the usual variety. Instead, they own cattle. They have their own little partnership where they feed some cattle in the west. They picked out the checks, but of course Daddy does all the management and the girls really don't know much else about it.

Yesterday, Nana, delivers two big boxes from the company the girls feed cattle with. The girls are beyond excited. This close to Christmas and a big box with just their names on it has arrived. "Can we open it?" They are pushing to see who will carry it in. H takes it to her room. We have to call repeatedly to get it brought back downstairs. Finally, Daddy gets it open. Hello 6 pound smoked beef brisket. Not the first choice of my almost vegetarian children. Welcome to the beef industry baby girls!