It's official

Oh brother.  Another birthday post that is months late, but at least it's only 4 months this time, right?  See...I'm getting better!

This birthday shout out is for Nate, who officially became a teenager in March.  It's hard to believe I have TWO of them now.  I am so screwed..er..I mean...lucky. ;)

We had a fun little birthday party with the grandparents on the night of his birthday.  I can't believe how big this kid is.  He is now taller than Shawn (which I admit isn't too difficult), but considering he still has many years of growing ahead of him...I think it's safe to say he will be the tallest in our "little" family.  Ha ha.

Nate has had his own unique struggles in the past few years.  Life isn't always easy for him, but he tries hard and is one of the most dedicated, talented, and loving kids I know.  He takes after Shawn in many ways with his ability to work with his hands, his dedication to the people he loves and even some of his weird hobbies (unicycles, yo-yo's, puzzle games, plants vs. zombies, etc.).  He loves to play the bari saxophone and is pretty darn amazing at it.  The bottom line is, we love this kid!  He is one of my greatest blessings.

It's like they made this shirt especially for him.

Seth...in a bag...?

His favorite present:  headphones to completely block out the noise of his siblings and parents. :)

Nice pj's

Love ya Nate!

Abby-isms

Oh Abby...she is a constant source of entertainment for us here at the Shipley house.  Let me tell you a little bit about her:

Her favorite place to shop is "Barnes and Elbows".

One of her favorite hobbies is zewing with her noodle (sewing with her needle).

Her favorite breakfast is a yummy egelote (bagel) with white butter (cream cheese).

Her favorite lunch is "noodles to make 'em beef". (top ramen)

When she gets up in the morning, I frequently hear the phrase, "Mom, will you take me a bath?"

She loves to play at Amy Aunt's, especially since Amy Aunt lives in the park.

She loves to eat at Chick-FAL-ay.

She loves to go anywhere, but her favorite place to go is "visiting cheeching" to "play with that one baby who has all the princesses."

She has learned many things in school.  Her letters, numbers and apparently, anything naughty that we catch her doing and ask her, "where did you learn that?".

8/1/12 The boys are outside mowing, so Abby turned to me and said, "Mom, when I grow up I want to move the lawn. So I asked her, "Where are you going to move it to?" To which she responded, "Well, to the right and then to the left and then to the middle."

Shawn was outside talking to a neighbor last week and Abby was playing one of her pretend games in the driveway.  He couldn't hear what she was saying, until she yelled out, "Oh my giddy aunt!".  Hmmm...we watch too much British tv, I think?

Abby, we love you infinity times infinity!!

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!

My baby boy turns 15

So what if I'm six months late posting these pictures?  Go ahead and judge me!  I dare you!  Lol!  Oh well.  I found this post still labeled as a "draft" and thought, "What the heck? Better late than never."

Alex...age 15!  :)  And what else does a teenage boy want to do on his birthday?  (well..besides hang out with cute girls)  The arcade, of course.

This picture is my fave.  I guess he got to hang out with a cute girl after all, right?

Why?

Why is being a good mom so much harder than being a bad mom?

New Post

I have started a "new post" 5 different times in the past few days and I just end up throwing it out instead of posting it.  Apparently, I am out of words at the moment.  So I will post a few pictures of my adorable daughter prancing around in her tutu.  Her closet door is a full length mirror, in case you are wondering what she is looking at.

Ta Da!!

....sigh....

I try to be upbeat on this blog most of the time.  I really do.  Because who wants to read about all my problems?  Nobody, that's who.  But sometimes a person just gets to the point when venting is necessary.  So if you prefer not to keep my misery company, then you might want to leave this blog and go to your happy place.  Otherwise known as Pinterest.

Do you ever have those mornings where getting out of bed and facing life is just so difficult?  I have those mornings more frequently than I care to divulge at the moment, but today is one of those days.  I am weary.  I miss parts of my life in the past that in retrospect seemed to be free of worry.  Sometimes I start to feel sorry for myself, with all of our problems and stresses, and I wish I had that part of my life back.  But sometimes it's the little things that really set us off.  Like my dryer.  I want it back.  It died on us a week ago and I have been doing laundry one load a day and then hanging it all over my house and across a sad little line strung across my family room.  One load a day is not sufficient when your family has six people in it and four of them are adult sized.  It seems like such a piddly thing to complain about really, compared to the other challenges we are facing, but believe me when I say that it feels like the last straw.  Do we have the money to fix it?  No.  It could have at least had the decency to last until May when it would be warm enough to hang outside.  But nooooo.  The middle of winter is a much better time for a dryer to kick the bucket.

I know what you're thinking;  stop complaining because it could always be worse.  I agree.  A few days after the untimely death of the dryer, we had a lady we know stay at our house for a few hours while her kids were in school.  Her and her family were just evicted from their home and they are living at a homeless shelter.  She takes the bus with her kids at 6 in the morning every day to take them to school because she doesn't want them to have to switch schools in the middle of the year.  She told me that it's the only stable thing in their lives right now and she won't take it away from them.  While they are at school, she finds some place to wait for them and then takes the bus with them back to their temporary home.  After she left, Shawn and I just looked at each other and I know we were thinking the same thing:  it could always be worse.  Could it be a coincidence that she came at a moment in my life when I was acting particularly ungrateful and spoiled?  Maybe.  But I know that night we thanked God for our home, for the means to feed our family and for the relative stability we enjoy at this moment.

Perspective is everything, wouldn't you agree?

My quest for cheese dip

***disclaimer***  Certain names in this post have been changed to protect the innocent.

I *heart* a certain little Mexican restaurant that is native to Utah and rhymes with, oh, let's call it Cafe Meo.  Yes, I see nods coming from those who suffer from the same addiction that afflicts me.  I could seriously eat there every day and never tire of their sweet and spicy pork, tangy tomatillo dressing, handmade tortillas and let us not forget the A-mazing queso dip.  But since our little family has started our "Adventures in Nursing School!", we have had to all but give up our love of all things restaurant.  So I have learned to apply my natural sneakiness toward the goal of finding a copy cat recipe for every one of my favorite items on their menu.  So far I have made their pork (NOT using cola, thank you very much), fire-grilled chicken, cilantro rice, tomatillo dressing and am currently working on finding a duplicate for their green enchilada sauce.  But the elusive queso dip remains out of my grasp.  I have searched for hours, people!  I cannot find more than a hint of what is in that "secret" recipe and judging from all the threads that are out there on ask.com, it seems I am not the only one who would love to get their greasy little salt-covered fingers on it.  So I have decided to take matters into my own hands, so to speak, and I will not rest until I have made a queso dip that is comparable to theirs.

I found a recipe that sounds similar and is from a restaurant that appears to be back east called Cafe del Rio (funny coincidence?).  I think with a few tweaks, it might be pretty close.  Here's hopin'!
 

Ingredients: 2 1/2 lb white American cheese (find in the grocery store deli) 1 pint half & half 1 cup whipping cream 1/2 cup jalepeno peppers, chopped (more or less to taste) 1/2 c. frozen spinach, chopped Directions: Melt all ingredients in a crockpot.   Ha ha!  I love those directions!  I think 1/2 cup of jalepenos seems a little hot, so I will be adjusting that.  Plus I think at least half the cheese needs to be some sort of melt-able cheddar or regular American.  I know it's more expensive to use the real American cheese, but I refuse to use Velveeta.  Ew!  If you are shocked at the amount of cream in this recipe, we'll just pretend it's not there and go on living in denial.  All I'm saying is that there is a reason that restaurant food tastes so good, ok?  I might decrease the cream a little though and add some salsa.  We'll see.   I plan on test driving this little recipe this weekend and will post the taste testing results.  Mmmmm, my mouth is watering already.   In the meantime, here is my favorite copy cat recipe for "Pork Barbacoa".   1 boneless pork roast (any kind works, but some cuts are more tender than others) Kosher salt 2 cans 8 oz mexican tomato sauce (I use the El Pato brand, in a yellow can.  It's usually right next to the regular tomato sauce.  Don't be alarmed by the word "hot".  It doesn't come in mild and trust me, you don't want it that way.) 2 cans 8 oz regular tomato sauce 2 cups brown sugar   Put roast in crockpot, add a small amount of water, maybe 1/2 cup.  Sprinkle roast with kosher salt.  Cook at least 8 hours on low.  When roast is done, remove from crock pot and shred.  Place in large saucepan.  Add tomato sauces and brown sugar.  Over medium heat bring to a low simmer, reduce heat to medium-low and simmer for at least 30 minutes, stirring often.  You might have to adjust the sauce depending on how big your roast is and how hot you like it.  The original recipe called for 3 cans of each, but I thought it was too saucy.  This definitely has a kick to it as well.  Love it!