A New Saying

I'm from Texas, the part with a lot of cowboys.  (Oh wait, that describes the whole state.)

When I was in high school, I became aware of the following phrase: "Cowboy Up."  Also available in the gender-equal "Cowgirl Up", this saying gently reminds its reader to do things like "Get Tough", "Deal With It", "Put on Your Big Girl Panties", and so forth.  

I've decided to coin a new phrase to be used when mothers of boys need to psyche themselves up to thread a worm on a fishing hook, remove the squished caterpillars or frogs from his jean pocket before you wash them, or involve her fatigued self in a never-ending light saber battle. 

The phrase is...Boy Mom Up.

As mothers of boys, we sometimes have to do things that make us want to gag (see: threading a worm on a fishing hook) or fall over in a wearied puddle of exhaustion. 

Yeah, we're moms.  We're female.  That means many of us enjoy movies like "Anne of Green Gables", "Out of Africa", and "French Kiss."  We like rainbows and ponies, French braids and Nutella.  This new world of war jargon, sword battles, and mock brutality is somewhat jarring to us.  Hearing my baby boy say to his brother, "I'm dunna tiwl you, bubby!" does strange things to my guts.

Like many of you, I have to do a lot of things I don't WANT to do. 

I don't necessarily WANT to ride a bike over the ramps and jumps we have on the park across the street and do "tricks" and "stunts", but when I do, the boys go wild.

"Whoa, MOMMY!  I didn't know you could do that!!"

Some days, I would rather sit and read a book, but how can I resist when the two fruits of my womb beg me to be Captain Hook while they are (both) Peter Pan?

"Boy-Momming-Up" is wearing hiking boots or tennis shoes when you would rather wear high heels or ballet flats.

It's playing out in the hot, sticky, mosquito-filled yard when you'd rather be in the air-conditioning checking Facebook.

In order to get the boys to eat beans, I've had to crudely rename the legumes "toot bombs".  But it works because they eat every single one of them and then proudly announce when the beans have reached their intestinal tract.    

I didn't really WANT the boys to get covered in mud the other day while I was working on the window, but partially out of desperation and partially out of knowledge that their little souls have a deep need to mix water and dirt and then roll around in it, I allowed them to.  

And yesterday, I was really quite tired.  I was ready to "clock out" for a while.  But Chris set up an awesome Nerf gun "course" on the park across the street from our house.  Our boys and the neighbor kids were excited to have a "war".  My husband said he needed me to be on his team.  At first I stared off into space, considering how my legs were feeling like cinder blocks.  But then I "boy-mommed-up" and agreed.  I might not have been the most active player.  Or the most valuable player.  But I was out there, and that counts.  Never mind that I screamed and winced when someone within 7 feet shot at me.  I hope that my boys will remember my presence on the battleground one day, even though I'm not in any of the pictures.  

I can hardly stand the cuteness.  Look at those socks! 

My fierce Nerf warriors.

We burn a lot of calories around this place.

This is our neighbor, Tanner.  He's the resident expert on all things Nerf and war related.  He had just done the "paintball slide" and said he had a huge grass stain.  I told him his mother would be grateful he was wearing camo.

  Do you like our pool noodle "light saber"?  (Thanks, Mariah.)

Matthew ensuring Tanner he is really "dead" by viciously beating him about the head and shoulders with the pool noodle. 

Here's Tanner's sister, Abby.  Matthew was taking no prisoners.  Abby didn't even get a chance to load her rifle, poor girl.  She's my only female comrade in this rowdy bunch of boys (but she can outrun, out-throw, and out-shoot me any day.)

Chris has absolutely no fun out whatsoever.  (Just kidding!  He's living the dream!)

I am so happy to be a boy mom!

 

I just need to be sure I can always keep up with them.

Thankfully, playing hard eventually gives way to napping hard (or vice-versa).

Do you have any stories to share of your proudest "boy mom" moment?  Please share...we all need inspiration.

I'm thinking of designing a bumper sticker.  Who wants one?

Be sure to "boy mom up" today if you can!  Your kids will never forget it. 

Turkey Burgers with Spinach and National Introvert Day

I'm feeling really laconic this afternoon.

Introverts get this way every now and then.

There are so many "National Day of __________" days.  It's borderline ridiculous.   For example, May 3rd is National Lumpy Rug Day. 

What in the what?

Therefore, I've decided that I'm going to call for the creation of a day to recognize some really important (yet shy and quiet) people: I hereby make a motion to add National Introvert Day to the American calender.  

Dianne Cameron wrote a piece a few years ago declaring January 2nd to be hailed as such a day.  She states: "Ahh, Jan. 2. The day that introverts get to breathe a sigh of relief. We can come out of hiding; it's safe to answer the phone, and to stop pretending we're under the weather. Hip Hip Hooray! The holidays are over."

She goes on to say, "...We [introverts] are the ones in the center of the room assessing others' interactions, and slowly backing toward the door. Introverts crave meaning, so party chitchat feels like sandpaper to our psyche."

"Introverted adults are hounded to "be more outgoing" and tortured with invitations that begin, "Why don't we all..." No thanks, we don't want to do anything that involves "we" and "all"; we prefer to visit you, just you, and not a dozen other people."

Oh Amen and Amen!!!

(Validation feels so good.)

I wonder if most introverts like to cook.  Unless it's a date with my husband or a quiet dinner with a friend at a small (quiet) restaurant, I don't really like to go out to eat.  Which would really be hard to manage if I also hated to cook. 

But seeing as how I love to cook and I love to be home and I love to write from the safety of these four walls, life is good.

And so are these turkey burgers. 

Have you ever made your own skillet turkey burgers?

This one was particularly delicious, if I may say so myself.  Which of course I can.  It's my dang blog.  :)

Here's how I did it...

First I mixed together all of this...

Then I sectioned the mixture into four (almost equal) parts to make the patties.

Sauteed them in olive oil for about 6-7 minutes per side...

Topped with some delicious Queso Fresco (a lovely Mexican cheese), and nestled it in a split Kaiser roll. 

Really filling, but easy(ier) on the ole "spare tire" than a real burger. 

Mmmmmm...  Now I'm going to go off by myself and enjoy it.

(Here's the printable...)

Turkey Burgers with Spinach and Shallots
Makes 4 large burgers

1 10-ounce box chopped spinach, thawed
1 pound ground lean turkey (or ground chicken breast)
1 shallot, finely chopped
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
10 basil leaves, shredded or chopped
Handful of fresh parsley, chopped (or 2 teaspoons dried parsley)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
20 mushrooms (I used Baby Bella), chopped
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1/2 cup dry white wine (or chicken stock)
4 slices of your favorite cheese (Swiss, Queso Fresco, Gruyere, all work well here)
4 kaiser rolls, split and toasted
4 red or green lettuce leaves
1 ripe tomato, sliced
Desired condiments (mustard, mayo, ketchup, etc.) 

Begin by preparing the sauteed mushroom mixture.  In a small skillet, heat 1 tablespoon of the olive oil over medium-high heat.  Saute the garlic cloves for about 30 seconds, and then add the mushrooms.  Stir occasionally and cook for 4-5 minutes.  Add the wine and cook until it has mostly evaporated from the pan (about 2-3 minutes).

You'll want to squeeze the water out of the thawed spinach.  To do this, you can use a clean kitchen towel or good-quality paper towels (the really cheap ones will come apart).  Wrap the tea towel (or about 3-4 stacked paper towels) around the spinach and twist to squeeze out the excess liquid.  (You can also press the spinach up against the holes of a colander with a spatula to release the extra water.) 

In a mixing bowl, combine the mushroom mixture, spinach, ground turkey, shallot, mustard, basil, parsley, and salt and pepper. Use your mixing spoon to section the mixture into four equal parts.  Form each part into an inch-thick patty. 

Preheat a large skillet (you may want to use non-stick) over medium-high heat.   Swirl one tablespoon of the olive oil around the pan to coat it well.  Drizzle the remaining tablespoon over the burger patties.  Cook for 6-7 minutes on each side (resist the urge to flip unless you think they're burning), until the turkey is cooked through.  Turn the heat off under the pan.

Place the cheese on the burgers and place the lid (or foil) over the pan to trap the heat in order to melt the cheese.  It should be nice and melt-y in about 2 minutes.  

Assemble burgers on the buns with mustard and mayo (or whatever you like), and top each with a leaf of lettuce and a tomato slice.  

Adapted from  Rachel Ray 365:  No Repeats (A Year of Deliciously Different Dinners)

Snippets of Stuff

Caulk and Mud
Last week, I had the pleasure of scraping off the remnants of a bad caulking job with a razor blade.  

Took me about 2 hours of pure, unadulterated fun. 

 

 
Since I was working on the kitchen window which overlooks the front yard, I was able to boot the boys outside to play.

Sure enough, they made a mud hole.

And proceeded to paint their bodies.

You might be thinking, "Oh, wow.  She's such a chilled mom to let her kids get so dirty."  Not so.  I am trying to be more of a chilled, spontaneous, "let's-go-out-and-get-MUDDY" type of mom.

But this was an act of occupation desperation.  I needed their hands and hearts to be doing something (anything!) while I scraped the caulk.

And as long as their chosen activity didn't involve guns, knives, illegal drugs, or motor vehicles, I was good with it.

Guilt

I am often racked with guilt that our pet rabbit, Mr. Sniffer, has to live his life in a (luxury) hutch on our back porch. 

So (every now and then) I let him inside.  He stays in the kitchen and rips up the newspaper.  The kids feed him expensive organic produce and I feel better about the state of our animal affairs.

Love
The day that my children stop putting on their shirts, shorts, and underwear backwards will be a sad one for me.

And Finally...My Pantry
Surely you remember the "before" shot:

Ahhhhh.   Now it's white and there's SPACE between the items.  Magazine beautiful?  No.   But very practical and ultra user-friendly. 

I'm going back in there to stare at it now.

A Really Yucky Recipe (and the Kitchen Isn't Quite Done Yet)

I finally cooked something in my pretty, new, partially-finished kitchen.  

But it wasn't great.

Which is really disappointing. 

Because I so badly wanted to successfully post a recipe tonight.  

I miss cooking and sharing my stuff with you.

This evening I made Chicken with Sweet Raisins and Apricot Sauce over Parsley-ed Orzo with Toasted Almonds.  (An adapted Rachel Ray recipe.)

During dinner, Chris and I said (approximately 9 thousand times) to the kids:  "Put a bite in your mouth, Timothy."  "Come on, take a bite Matthew."  "Finish up!"  "Come on!"  "Chew it up, boys!"   

(Almost every mealtime I feel like Napoleon Dynamite saying to the family's pet llama, "EAT YOUR  FOOD, TINA!!!!!")  

In a sweet, loving, motherly way, of course.

But tonight, my Timothy was really trying his best to obey.  I knew he was hungry.  

After staring at his plate for a while, he finally scrunched up his little nose, exhaled loudly, and said in all sincerity and without the slightest hint of disrespect, "Mommy.  This chicken is super yucky!" 

How can I possibly respond to that?  I was laughing so hard, hiding behind the counter so he wouldn't see me cracking. 

"Oh, go on, boys.  Go wash your hands and play."

I will not post this recipe, and not just because my kid didn't like it.  As fellow food photographers will understand, the sauce (plus the raisins and apricots) turned the chicken a funky color and I cannot even describe to you how awful it looked once plated.  

Well...here...tell me really.  What does that chicken+sauce look like to you? 

Retch!  Retch!

We all have mess-ups in the kitchen.  Only the brave (or stupid) admit it.

The kitchen's getting close to being done.  I had to order some cabinet hardware...it hasn't arrived yet, so I just can't take a photo until it's finished.

I'm done with the pantry, though!  I'm excited.  I'll show that to you soon.

Thanks for reading my posts even when they're not pretty,
Ginny

53 Hours

Since last Thursday night, I have been caulking, sanding, scraping and painting for a total of 53 hours.

Remember what the inside of my pantry used to look like?

Bye-bye, ugly 70s paneling.

Hello, lovely white.

 

What do you think?

The problem with fixing up one thing in an old house is that it inadvertently lengthens your to-do list.  Juxtaposed to my new, pristine white subway tile backsplash, my "Heavy Cream" colored cabinets looked ugly and dingy.

So I repainted them all.  Inside and out. 

 

See the "Heavy Cream" cabinet door on the right in the photo below?  It doesn't look like a big difference, but believe me:  it was grungy and dismal compared to the bright white of the tile.

And I just can't LIVE with that for the REST of my LIFE!

(I'm still painting the cabinets, so that "after" pic will be posted later.)

Did y'all see my new solid-surface counters?

Just kidding.  

The top is Formica.  I painted the edge to match.

It took lots of phone counseling and encouragement from my friends, including Nashville designer and professional faux painter (and my friend since the 6th grade!) Heather Spriggs Thompson.  (And Anjie, I could not have done it without you, either.  My best sections occurred while talking with you on my "AnjieTooth.")

I think the counters turned out pretty good! 

Let me state for the record:  I am NOT a crafty gal.  I dislike crafty things because I lack skills of craft.  But I did this!  So that's a big deal for me.  By going this route, we saved lots of dough which can go into something fun like my wish fund for my dream stove (no hard feelings, Gladys, old girl).  

Here's how I did it....

I took a sample of the Formica to Lowe's and walked around matching paint chips to it while my kids screamed and fought over who would be the "driver" in the blue race car shopping cart with two steering wheels.  It was super relaxing and lots of fun.

I bought a small $3 sample of each color.  Then, I bought one $10 sea sponge (available in the now-aren't-you-crafty section of the paint aisle) and cut it into thirds.   

 

I started out with a base layer of the mid-tone color 

(thanks, Heather dear, that was the kicker).

And then I went to town with the sponges and lots of dabbing and blotting, working on about a 12-inch section at a time.

  

(I even used an old toothbrush loaded with watered-down paint and "spattered" with the brown color.  That was fun.)

While I still need to add a coat of polyurethane (which will probably cost about $10 for a quart), I'm liking the $29 price tag for this whole faux shebang.  (The Formica was a special order item and cost about $300...I don't know how much we spent on the plywood base...need to ask my hubby). 

But I'm liking the new look of my little kitchen! 

Maybe by this weekend we'll have it all put back together and we can actually eat something besides frozen pizza and PB&J.

Just curious here:  have you ever "fauxed" anything?  Are you happy with how it turned out?

While I'm At It-- A Pantry Redo

Someone please make me a t-shirt that reads:

The person wearing this shirt

is a 

PANTRY HYPOCRITE.

Remember this post I did last year on pantry organization?

I even showed a picture of someone's messy pantry and wrote, "Not that there is anything wrong with this [picture], but it doesn't really lend itself to smooth and peaceful meal preparation."

Oh, brother.

My own pantry is shove-it, cram-it unorganized mess.  In fact, since my kitchen trash can lives in the pantry, I make my friends sign an "I-promise-not-to-break-up-with-you-after-I-open-these-doors" agreement before I allow them to throw something away.

I've shown you this picture.

And now I feel so, so....exposed, like I am being forced to Zumba in front of a large crowd while wearing only an ill-fitting bikini and tennis shoes.

(Remember this?  I don't Zumba so well.) 

Odd shelf buddies, these two. 

I had to clear out the pantry in order to prep it for painting.

Four laundry-basket loads of stuff later:

I caulked every nook, cranny, groove and crack.

Caulking is not at all physically hard.  Digging a 10-foot long drainage ditch with a pick-axe in the rocky Arkansas ground when it's 97 degrees with 97% humidity:  now that's hard.

During moments of intense physical labor, I enjoy reflecting on how many famous people have never done such a thing.  A few summers ago, while we were working so hard on our back yard and I was digging that blankety-blank 10-foot-long drainage ditch, I tried to imagine Marie Antoinette wielding the pick-axe, her powder wig and corsets soaked with sweat.  And then I tried to envision Paris Hilton using a pitchfork to turn the soil in my vegetable garden (amid the snakes and ticks).  

Last night as I was caulking the pantry, I couldn't help but think of Kim Kardashian performing the task, her gorgeous long black hair tangled with the thick, pasty, sticky caulk.  In my daydream she threw down the caulk gun and dramatically walked away.  (I also wanted to stomp off, Kim, so don't feel bad).

I have high hopes for an organized and visually soothing pantry, so I am going to try and resist the urge to put everything back exactly as it was before.

We'll see how that turns out...

I'm going old school and using oil-based paint for the shelf surfaces...for better wearability (is that a word?). 

But it's SUCH A PAIN IN THE HIND END.

And the fumes make me forget how to focus my camera.  

Since I'm turning into that annoying person who bores you with all 432 photos of their vacation, I will stop now.

Just point me to the exit so I can get a breath of fresh air.

The Little Dream That Could (An Update...)

 

NOT that anyone is hanging on the edge of their seat to see our little kitchen redo...

But some of you sweeties have asked me about it...

So I thought I might just post a few pictures.

I still have to completely repaint my cabinets and the inside of my pantry (somebody hold me).  Chris has to install our ceiling light, and did I mention I have to paint?  With oil-based messiness?

We hosted a few dear folks for a 6 PM Easter dinner.  At 4:55 PM, Gladys (my 1971 Kenmore stove) was still pulled out to the middle of the dining room because Chris was still grouting the back-splash.  Mercy.  It's a good thing we work well under pressure. He and I got it all put back together and the house looked great with 30 whole seconds to spare.

We've had some great helpers.

 

 Chris has been working so hard. 

He installed some "up lighting" on the top of my cabinets.  I like it.

 (The crazy-ugly 1970s ceiling will have to be tackled 

in the next phase of the remodel process.)

Anyway, I'll show more kitchen pics next week.

In the meantime, have I told you how much I respect and admire Abraham Lincoln?

We named our Matthew after him (Matthew Lincoln).

My grandmother had a portrait of young Mr. Lincoln (painted in 1845) hanging in her home for over 20 years.  After she passed away, my aunt so sweetly gave it to me to hang on the walls of my own home.

I remembered this quote by Mr. Lincoln, and couldn't resist joining the two. 

How true it is.

Thanks for reading this randomness.  Hope your week has gone well.