Green Eggs and Ham

"I am Sam.
Sam I am."

The first two lines of Sam's favorite book, Green Eggs and Ham. Whenever I do the voice of the dude that doesn't like 'that Sam I am', he looks at me like I'm telling him I don't like him. I ask him all the time, 'Are you Sam I am?' and he ALWAYS replies, "NO! I just SAM!"

There are some things that make up my little Sammy, and, good or green eggs and ham, make me love him even more.

Sam is:
*Two-period.
*loving his silly hairline and telling me "It's grows up, mommy". Which it does, and then grows down. Think of a wave and you've got the front of his hair.

*enamoured with Max. He follows him around and does EXACTLY as Max does.

*a friend to Lego Men everywhere. "Look mommy, I found a Lego man" pulled from his church pants pocket. Or. "Where's my Lego Manses?"

*not laid back, but wants to wear the Hang Loose shirt Grandma and Grandpa brought back from Hawaii. He makes the sign with his little hands and tells us to "hang moose".

*excited to see his dad. I picked him up from nursery today and the first thing he said was "Where's my dad?" But with the sweetest little voice and the cutest little hair tuft in the front.

*fearless. You name it, he's climbed it. and jumped. or fell.


*sweet. "May I have this nacho?" as he takes a crumb from the plate.

*underestimated and sometimes overlooked. it makes me sad to say, but lots of times Sam gets the 2 year old bad rap. Max never went through the search-and-destroy-stage, so I often compare the two which is wrong. Sammy really is a sweet, wonderful little kid that teaches me love and patience everyday.

I love this little dude, and know he's got a lot more to teach me, and maybe one day I can proclaim, "I do like them, Sam I am! I do like green eggs and ham!"

THAT explains it!

2010 was not my year. I have never had so many mishaps, accidents, or general unluckiness.

The Chinese Zodiac has proven why.

I am a rat. Rats are charming, and -ahem- elegant. Last year was the year of the Tiger. Tigers are fast paced and CRAZY. Rats, therefore are non- compliant with Tigers. WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THIS BEFORE NOW!?

Seriously, though, I cannot figure out why this year has been so WEIRD! I was never so happy to welcome in a New Year because my friend and I are always joking about 2010 just being the worst year of all time for me. I won't go into all the insanity, but know this- 2011 has got to be better than previous.

Or at least I had hopes of this being a reality.

Last night some chick on her cell phone ran a stop sign, and I hit her. T-bone style. So frustrating. However, we only had to wait for an hour for the Police Service to get there, and my van ended up being drivable. No tow- truck needed. Upside: not my fault. Downside: my back hurts. Oh well.

I really hope 2011, or the year of the Rabbit brings me better luck. I found this online though: "This year is generally considered as an unfavourable year since 2011 will usher in the Wood Rabbit in a Metal Year. Since the metal element generally works against the wood element, expect at least some uncertainties and continued troubles carried over from the roller-coaster Tiger Year."
Oh. boy.
At least I can brush last night's incident under the rug, and chalk it up to the fact that the new zodiac year doesn't begin until February Third.

Maybe, though, I should invest in one of those weird gold cats with it's paw up and put it in my front window. You're goin' down, Rabbit!

Max-a-roo

Is FIVE! When did that happen? I know I'm a little slow getting to this post- the story of my life- but I couldn't procrastinate this day away. I'll fill you in on the day Max was born five years ago.
We lived in Saskatoon. It was freezing cold, the coldest day that we'd had (-40). Ya, that cold. I don't even have to type the F or the C after it, because it's the same degree of insanity. I woke up on the Saturday morning and knew that I was in quasi-labor. Mom told me to go walk around, so we went out into the freezingness to walk the mall. Someone had stolen our extension cord. Jerky Saskatoonians. So, needless to say, our car wouldn't start. Until a less jerky saskatoonian jumped our battery. Much walking and a lot of nerves later, we went into the hospital at 9 pm when my contractions were about 5 minutes apart. Labored all night and had sweet little Maxen James at 10:20 am December 4, 2005. (Dustin asked me how I remembered the time, and I told him it would be hard to forget a moment like that.)
Here are just a few things I love about Max:
He's so loving.
Max loves to create an imagine.
He has the tenderest heart of any little guy.
He says "Je t'aime, Mommy/ Daddy" out of the blue.
He's so stinkin smart, but says, "It's okay, Mommy. I'll help you get it right." Usually when I'm helping him make something of his own design.
Max is a loyal friend, and tries to include everyone.
He is the class clown, even at home.
He loves volkswagens and will sit forever looking at them with his dad.
Max loves to play with Sam, and even helps him put his jammies on.
He tells Elle how sweet she is about a zillion times a day.
He's a little trooper when it comes to things he doesn't like.
Max hates meat, and you can get him to eat just about anything else if you tell him there is no meat in it.
Max loves to wear hats, especially the ones Grandpa Wilde gives him.
He loves riding around with Grandpa Wilde and asks when we can visit constantly.
He loves it when I read to him, and can say "constantinople" from hop on pop.
Max loves Inspector gadget.
He laughs out loud- super loud- when he thinks something is funny.

Max is my sweet little dude, Sammy's idol, Elle's protector, and Dustin's clone. We love you Max, and can't wait for all you have to teach us with your loving heart!

Merry Christmas

Dustin has been a student for a very long time. (I have been his wife for most of it.) This usually means that we never see each other, except for holidays and weekends. Well, we see each other, but not for the long enough time that you might get sick of one another. Pure wedded bliss. Anyway, these holidays are, for the most part spent with our families. I consider our family to be very lucky to be able to drive for a while and spend the time of year meant for peace on earth, and love, with those that mean so much to us. I have very tender feelings in my heart for Christmases past, the traditions, and the overall feeling of the holiday. I found this poem the other day and it paints such beautiful imagery, and this is what I picture our home to be one day. Especially during the holiday.

A Prayer For A Little Home

God send us a little home,
To come back to, when we roam.

Low walls and fluted tiles,
Wide windows, a view for miles.

Red firelight and deep chairs,
Small white beds upstairs-

Great talk in little nooks,
Dim colors, rows of books.

One picture on each wall,
Not many things at all.

God send us a little ground,
Tall trees stand round.

Homely flowers in brown sod,
Overhead, thy stars, O God.

God bless thee, when winds blow,
Our home, and all we know.

-Florence Bone

With that, I'll add some imagery of my own that old Florence didn't have. This may warm my heart just a little bit more.






Do you have any traditions, or memories that evoke that sense of family in your heart at this time of year?

fondant update

Well, it worked! My fondant worked! I was so amazed. I only had to cook it once, beat it once and it balled so nicely. The fondant dipped really easily too.
Paulette came over last week, as mentioned, to dip our chocolates. It was so fun!!! Paulette made delicious ganache (truffle filling), and yummy-secret family recipe- caramel for turtles. She really is so wonderful. We dipped the olympian creams that I made as well.
Yesterday, my friends Lauren and Erin came over and helped me dip some orange flavored and peppermint flavored fondant. They really did a great job and I was so grateful they were so willing to help get all that done and out of my fridge!!! I hope they'll come over and pick them up soon...(nudge nudge you guys.)
Without further ado, here are some pictures of the most fun we've had since last week!
Next post, Max's 5th Birthday Party! Hang on to your hats!

mid-production


my little "helper"


dark chocolate covered ganache, milk chocolate covered olympian cream, cocoa covered cinnamon-chocolate ganache, milk chocolate mold (Paulette's) with fondant, red foil turtle. DELICIOUS! Thanks Paulette!

Another Rite of Passage

I'm 26. Soon to be 27. I'm an adult, I think.

I have three kids. Two of which are very excited for Christmas.

At Christmastime, adults make the season magical for their kids.

I've made pillowcases. Stockings. Advent Calendars. Cookies.

Now...now is the time to step it up, and make chocolates. My friend Paulette is so amazing. She's coming over tomorrow to make truffles and turtles with me. (or for me, we'll see) With that in mind, I'm going to try to make some fondant today and totally surprise her. I hope they work so she'll still be my friend.

I vaguely remember making fondant with my mom every year. By vaguely, I remember the cream, sugar, and syrup. However, I don't remember the really important details that go along with it. Do you guys have any tips? Please let me know! I'm making olympian cream and I really hope they don't go to sugar.

I'll let you know how they turn out.

Has this ever happened to you?

I wish I had a video camera to record last night's supper escapade. Instead, I will (figuratively) draw it out for you.
Dustin, having come home late from school, was frantically trying to get things ready to go for his hunting/school trip. (In no way related, he just combined them for an extra good time.) The boys are desperately trying to get his attention. They know something's up, and about to change. Elle is being cute and quiet- as usual.

My crock pot is cooking away- trusty old crock pot- making mind blowing beef barley stew. Nugget potatoes and the last of our garden carrots. Yum!

Flash to me. Wandering around in a daze, not wanting to admit that Dustin is ACTUALLY leaving. I'm ACTUALLY going to be on my own totally for the next while with a crazy two year old, a "having behavioural problems on the school bus" (but aside from that, very kind) four year old, and the miraculous little newborn. Trying to help Dustin get things together, check the stew, wondering 'Why is the barley not cooking faster?', and keeping the boys from killing each other as they clamour for Dustin's attention.

Dustin barely scrapes out the door, freeing himself from my death grip. My last words to him, 'Don't die. I'm serious. I can't do this alone.' Cheery, huh? No romantic good-byes reminiscent of newlyweddom, only a plead not to leave me to raise three kids alone.

Cue: my pregnant friend, for whom the rest of the stew was destined. I forgot she can't handle meat this pregnancy so my good deed was most likely moot. She's so sweet, bringing her own container for the stew. She gets out the door as fast as she can, my yelling, but best intentioned, two year old hanging on my leg.

Finally, it's time to eat. I had set the boys' stew on the table before Dustin had left so it would be cool enough to eat. I put Elle down in her carseat so I can help Sammy eat. She cries. I tell myself she'll stop. Max cries- screaming and wailing. "I don't want to be the man of the house!" I think this is motivated by the expectation to eat a meat stew, and given Max is a bit of a vegetarian, I can see the problem. I snap- "You HAVE to be the man of the house! Dad's gone and it's your job!" I realize I'm speaking to a four year old, who just doesn't want to eat stew. Time for prayer. I offer a hasty thanks and a 'please bless'. Sam refuses to say amen. I can handle that. Sam refuses to eat. Max refuses to eat. I give up, picking up a crying Elle, and delve into my just-out-of the crock-pot-stew. Potatoes are raw. Carrots are raw. Barley is cooked- barely. At this point, I'm starting to get a little frustrated. and by a little, I mean steam is shooting from my ears. I finish my stew while Sam is in and out of his chair, and under the table. Up he comes. I give Sam some cut up potato on his spoon, and he stands on his chair, turns his back to me, and dances. All out shake his booty and shoulders dancing. I almost started to cry. Why won't my kids just eat their supper? Why do I even try? Why does Sam have to get out of his seat and crawl under the table? Why does he dance? Why does Max hate meat? Why does he cry on the bus? How do I know if he's telling me the truth about his irritable bus driver? Why did Dustin have to leave? Why did I agree to this?

Why am I so alone?

Sam looks at me, "you're my best friend, mommy". Dance dance dance. Max finishes his stew without meat, and wants grapes.

I start to laugh. I had given all I could, what else could I do? I call my nauseated pregnant friend, and warn her about the stew. I put Elle in the bath and rub her with yummy lotion, laughing and smiling at me the whole time. I call Dustin and tell him he owes me an afternoon out on the town. I play Candyland with the boys. I let Max win. I forget about the bus driver, I don't mind the stew, and I'm happy that Max doesn't like meat. Maybe he'll live to be a hundred years old.

Jammies, prayers, scriptures. Lights out. This is when I read this conference talk by Jeffery R. Holland, and apostle who has given amazing talks on the atonement and Christ's love for us. This was what I expect. I get something totally different. I get exactly what I need. I feel happy because I remember telling Max about listening to the prophets as their voice is the same as the Lord's. I know that my Saviour remembers me, and I'm not alone.

I learned a couple of things at supper last night:
1. My kids don't care about eating. Why should I?
2. When I've given life all I have, I need to learn to laugh.

On a totally different note, here are some pictures of the rough family history book I've been working on getting published. This is the soft cover. Let me know if you like the type color on the front. I only have until Monday to change it. I wanted it to look as close to the original book as they could get. I can't wait until Santa brings us a Rebel and our pictures will be legit. =)