What happens when Abby gets the camera

Nice shot of her messy floor

Alex in his usual position... inside the refrigerator

Ha ha!  She is too funny...

the things we handed down

I listened to a song today that I haven't heard in...well, years.  I was looking at my oldest son and reflecting on how much he is like me.  That always leads to a fervent prayer that my less than favorable traits have passed him and the rest of my kids by, but I know that's unlikely.  Anyway, it reminded me of this song and I just wanted to put it on this page in hopes that it will get out of my head.

You may not always be so grateful
For the way that you were made
Some feature of your father's
That you'd gladly sell or trade
And one day you may look at us
And say that you were cursed
But over time that line has been
Extremely well rehearsed
By our fathers, and their fathers
In some old and distant town
From places no one here remembers
Come the things we've handed down

Bread Therapy

Last week I had one of THOSE days.  You know the kind I'm talking about.  When your kids are late for school, you don't have time for a shower, you have to wear your ugly pants because nothing else is clean and your 4 year old decides to fill up a bucket of water and dump it on her bedroom rug.  And to top it all off you woke up with a gigantic zit.  Ya...THOSE days.

So I decided to bake bread.  I admit this is not my normal response to having a bad day.  I am not one of those women.  Believe me, I like homemade bread.  I am a big supporter of homemade bread.  I can make really yummy homemade bread if I decide I want to spend half of my day being chained to the kitchen.  But let's face it...I have commitment issues.  Heck, my family is lucky if they get dinner!  But I was messing around on Pinterest and saw a recipe from my sister for Cinnamon Swirl Bread.  And I was suddenly gripped with an overwhelming desire to smell that intoxicating aroma of fresh-baked bread.  Whenever I smell it, I am immediately transported back in time to my mother's kitchen--sitting at the counter with my own little lump of dough while I watch her bake her magical bread.

The great thing about bread therapy is that you really get two for the price of one.   You get the smell AND you get to eat it after.  Because, quite frankly, if all I wanted was the smell I could just light that Cinnamon Roll scented candle I have in my cupboard and save myself a good three hours.

My oh my...it turned out lovely...

...and I am pretty sure I ate 90% of it myself.  Can you just imagine one of those big slices slathered with butter?  Mmmmmmmm.

What a delicious way to end my day!

Do you need some bread therapy too?  Well...my bread is long gone, but I'm happy to share the recipe!