Creative Deprivation: The Benefits

Some of my kids nag incessantly for money. They say they need sunglasses, because if they don't have them, their eyes will hurt on their trip to Alaska, or if they don't have a new IPOD, they will get too bored during the flight to Alaska, and perhaps get into unexpected trouble. Or... they need new pants because their old ones are too small, or too wrinkled or the wrong cowboy brand.

Then others play the martyr, saying with a sad countenance things like, "No, I don't want to go to the mall with you. I have no money, so what fun would it be," or "I sure wish I could afford these earrings. They're only $10, but I don't even have that much."

My kids seem to think, or hope, that these tactics will work, but they rarely do. I did give into the 14-year-old boy and bought him two pairs of jeans but I told him that they were his birthday present and he shouldn't expect anything else.

Now, let's contrast the above behavior to that of the 11-year-old boy. All of our kids have ample opportunity to earn spending money. The 14-year-old boy has mastered the art of the chocolate chip bar cookie, and sells these at school to awaiting crowds. The 16-year-old girl caters meals to parents who would like a break on a Friday night, and makes quite a bit of money when she's actively involved in this pursuit. These endeavors, however, require time and labor, both of which the 14- and 16-year-old children declined to expend recently. Thus, they went to Alaska penniless.

Now, back to the 11-year-old boy. Yesterday he was pacing around the house with his hands in his pockets, his head down, repeating, "I'm so broke." When Grandma walked into the room, he asked her if there were any ways he could earn money. She said yes, and listed a few very difficult, dirty jobs he could do, with a big paycheck as a reward. One job was to hack down a 20-foot hedge of bushes that had died during the hard freeze last winter, and the other was to sweep an enormous covered patio of a several-months build-up of dust, rottweiler hair and other debris. These were jobs that even I, a seasoned laborer, wouldn't want to do, but the 11-year-old boy rolled up his sleeves and got to work. He finished the brush job in less than half the time we thought it would take, coming to me midway through and stating that he was getting too strong, stronger than metal even, because he had broken the hedge clippers and a screwdriver.

As far as the patio job, there was so much dust created that he had to wrap around his nose and mouth a damp rag in order to complete the job. When I told him I wanted to take his picture, we were standing in the garden area of my mother's yard, a lovely, potted-flower and ivy sitting area, and I raised to camera to my eye, but before I could take the photo, he suggested that we take it in the patio area where he had been working, where the air was still thick with dust. Great idea!

He is now nearly $100 wealthier than when he arrived at Grandma's, stronger, as he pointed out, and obviously pleased with his accomplishments and more confident in his ability to complete a difficult task. I'm grateful he sets such an amazing example to his siblings, bother older and younger. You rock, 11-year-old boy!

Thanks for listening!

The 16-Year-Old Girl is....

1. Industrious...
She cooks amazing meals. I've blogged about her recipes HERE, HERE, and HERE.

2. Selfless...
She volunteers to babysit her 7 younger siblings so I can attend the temple.

3. Talented...
She plays the piano and guitar, sings and writes music.

4. Frugal...
She never asks me to spend money on her unless it's to buy sheet music to download.

5. True...
When I thank her for being honest, she thanks me for making it easy to be honest.

6. Humble...
She apologizes.

7. Loving...
Sometimes of a Sunday evening she invites her siblings up into her room and teaches them to sing hymns.

8. Obedient...
She reads the scriptures and prays each day.

9. Sure...
She picks good friends who uphold her standards.

10. Faithful...
She has a strong testimony of The Lord Jesus Christ and that He stands at the head of His church.

(Photo by Niki Nielsen)

You are AMAZING, 16-year-old girl. I love you. :)

P.S. My sister and I are finally getting skinnier!
See how we're doing it HERE! :)

Homemaker Monday: Triple Berry Pie

Welcome to the 127th weekly edition of...


Thank you for joining us! If you're new to this carnival and would like to enter your post, please check HERE for the rules and regs.

YOURS: This week's "YOURS" goes to Tiffany at "Breakfast With Tiffany"! Tiffany shows how to make homemade soy candles and they look totally professional! I can definitely see myself making tons of these to give away at Christmas time. Just look how cute...

You guys are definitely going to want to check this out! Thanks so much, Tiffany, for linking up! We'll certainly look forward to hearing more from you in the future. For Tiffany's post, click HERE. Oh, and feel free to grab the "I Was Featured" button from my left sidebar!

MINE: To give credit where credit is due, I need to let you know that the 15-year-old girl made this pie.....

(I actually have no idea how to make a lattice crust.) I made a promise that I would blog this a long time ago, but I'm only just now getting to it. Thanks for your patience, as always! Here's a closer look, just in case you wanna see...

Enjoy!

Ingredients
1 recipe pastry for a 9 inch double crust
pie
4 cups fresh or frozen mixed berries. We used blackberries, blueberries and raspberries.
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 cup white sugar
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 tablespoon butter

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees F (230 degrees C).

2. Line a 9 inch pie pan with half the pastry. Save remaining pastry for top crust. Chill both while preparing the blackberries.

3. Combine berries, flour, sugar, and lemon juice. Spoon into pie shell, and dot with butter or margarine. Cover with top crust, and slash in several places.

4. Bake for 15 minutes. Reduce heat to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Continue baking for 35 to 40 minutes, or until browned.


OURS: Okay, now it's your turn! Can't wait to see what homemaking tips, recipes, and how-tos you link up today! And remember, if this is your first time, feel free to dig through your archives and link anything homemaking! Thanks so much for your visits and links and have a terrific Homemaker Monday!

P.S. My sister and I are finally getting skinnier!
See how we're doing it HERE! :)

How to Stop Nagging Your Kids

Say the word "nag" and the term wife and/or mother usually comes to mind. According to Webster's dictionary, to nag means "to annoy by persistent faultfinding, complaints, or demands". Mothers often find themselves having to repeatedly remind children to clean their room, do the dishes, brush their teeth, do their homework, come home on time, drive carefully, remember who they are, and turn off the TV. And yes, this is annoying to them, thus we are considered naggers.

In the past, Saturdays seemed to be the worst of all days for me. Perhaps because I created a to-do list a mile long and because the kids were home to nag, I nagged. And I nagged all of the kids, all day. No wonder they wanted to leave as soon as their chores were finished.

A couple of years ago, though, I read a book that changed things. This book taught me to give the kids a list of chores and to create consequences, both good and bad, that will be realized when the chores are done... or not.

This cuts out the Saturday morning nagging! I simply type my kids chores into myjobchart.com where they can log in and see what needs to be done. Myjobchart.com comes with a point system whereby kids can earn rewards such as a date with Mom and Dad, an ice cream party, a movie night, or even a toy or game. This alone is great motivation to get things done without me having to nag.

However, the teenagers aren't so easily motivated by a juvenile internet job chart and point system. With them, harsher measures must be taken. Their rewards for getting their chores finished include being able to invite friends over and visit friends, use the computer for something other than homework, like Facebook, and getting movie time in the theater downstairs. Again, the consequences can do the nagging so I don't have to.

So last Saturday I had made an extensive list of chores for the dear ones to complete. They knew that they would not be able to invite friends over, play the Play Station or the computer, nor watch movies unless this list was completed. I began work on my chores wholeheartedly, but when I looked out the window, what should I see but the 14-year-old boy doing this...

I immediately felt my nagging adrenaline began to pump through my veins, and I began the process of stomping the down the hall to give him a good talking to. Halfway through my trek, though, I remembered my no-nagging policy. He could play basketball to his heart's content (and maybe if he keeps practicing he will actually make the team this year) and at some point he would remember that he couldn't have friends over (the wish of his heart) until his chores were finished.

So I grabbed my camera, put the strap around my neck and instead of nagging, took pictures of him and some of his siblings...

As you can see above, at the least the 9-year-old girl had started her chores, which included 30 minutes of Baby Hippo babysitting. The twins helped out with their chores, too...

...or not...

Anyway, I never nagged once and eventually he did get everything crossed off his list. It felt great not to have my name be synonymous with "nag", our house got tidied up, he learned a lesson about time organization and I got some fun pictures.

Let's see if I can remember to do this again next Saturday. Thanks for listening!

P.S. My sister and I are finally getting skinnier!
See how we're doing it HERE! :)

It hurts when you have a sore throat and you’re trying not to cry…

I’m emotional today. My mother-in-law died suddenly and unexpectedly last night. I want to write about it, about the raw, honest emotions my amazing father-in-law is expressing, about the help we’re receiving, both from angels in our town and those in the spirit world, about my feelings about my mother-in-law, but I don’t want to be intrusive to those who are grieving. Perhaps when I’ve gathered my thoughts and things aren’t so raw, I’ll be able to write about this.
And I know that we’re supposed to let all of our emotions out, that crying expels hormones that make you sad, but when you are trying to hold everyone together, it’s hard to just break down and let it all out. That will come later, after the funeral.

So here’s the biggest battle I’ve had with my tears and my throat today…

You know that lump you get when you’re trying to hold back the tears. I know you do. Well, when your throat is sore because you’re coming down with the same virus your three littlest boys have, that lump makes your neck feel like it’s in a vice, and like you are going to gag. It physically hurts.

At the end of a difficult day the 14-year-old boy had offered to give Baby Hippo a bath in exchange for me doing his dishes. I gladly agreed to this, knowing that I could get it done in half the time he would. When I was finished, I went into the bathroom to see Baby Hippo happily splashing to the tunes of George Strait. Just for your information, the 14-year-old boy has recently become a cowboy, which means that he doesn’t actually work with cattle, unless a rare opportunity presents itself, but that he wears western shirts, Wranglers, and a cowboy hat. This also entails listening to country music, namely George Strait, 24/7. He has even asked why I haven’t blogged about his “cowboy-ness” yet. Cuteness!

Anyway, back to the bathroom. I sat down and told him that I was done with his dishes and that he could be on his way. He said, “Okay, Mom, but have you heard this song? It’s a really cool song”. I listened to the hit that was playing and I said no. Just as I answered, though, the chorus rang out, and I realized I did know the song, and I began belting it out...

“Let me tell ya a secret
‘Bout a father’s love
A secret that my daddy said was just between us
He said daddies don't just love their children every now and then
It's a love without end, amen, it's a love without end, amen”

He said, “Mom, I thought you said you didn’t know this song.”

“Well, I do. I didn’t realize it until the chorus came on.”

And this is when the lump in my throat, that had been threatening to emerge all day, reared its head and put my neck in a vice. I couldn’t talk, or even look at him, because my eyes were welling up with tears. I don’t know if it was the fact that he was touched by a song about fathers, and that he missed his father who committed suicide six years ago or if he was thinking of his step-father, John, and what he has meant in his life or if he was just imagining that this is the kind of father he wants to be, but whatever the motivation for his interest in this song, it affected me deeply.

I sat on the edge of the bathtub and listened quietly along with him, trying to keep from bursting into tears as Baby Hippo splashed and played. Then we got to the end of the second verse.

“Okay, Mom,” he said, “Now this is the best part. Listen to this.”

As the third verse started, he repeated, “Okay. Listen to this part.”

This is what it said…

“Last night I dreamed I’d died and stood outside those pearly gates
When suddenly I realized there must be some mistake
If they know half the stuff I done they’ll never let me in
Then somewhere from the other side I heard these words again

And they said, Let me tell you a secret, about a fathers love
A secret that my daddy said was just between us
You see daddies don’t just love their children every now and then
It's a love without end, amen, it’s a love without end, amen”

Okay, right now, as I’m writing this, the lump is back, and it hurts.

As I listened to this verse, a little quiet sob was released from my throat, but I don’t think he heard it because of the splashing. I thought of what profound thing I could say when the song was over and how I could say it without letting on that I was about to start sobbing like a little tiny baby.

When the music stopped, I said in a loud voice, so as to disguise my lump, “Yeah, that’s a good song.”

Profound, I know. And I know many of you are sitting there wondering why I didn’t just let it all out in front of my boy. I guess the answer is because I don’t want him to be all “freaked out” that I would burst into tears when he’s trying to share a thing that means something to him. I’m sure my therapist would have said that I should’ve let him see me cry, but I just couldn’t.

As he picked up his IPOD player and began to walk out of the bathroom, he turned to me and said, “So, Mom, I guess this tells us that George Strait believes in Jesus.”

I smiled at him and nodded and said, “Yeah, I guess it does.” Again, very profound.

I LOVE that boy. Here's the song...

P.S. My sister and I are finally getting skinnier!
See how we're doing it HERE! :)

Is this really the 15-year-old girl?

She doesn't get this from me, I promise you that. This is the 15-year-old girl's first recording, and I've got to thank Jesus and Pablo Bautista for giving her this opportunity to cover Paramore's The Only Exception. You guys are amazing!

P.S. My sister and I are finally getting skinnier!
See how we're doing it HERE! :)

When 7 of your kids invite 8 friends over...

... it's great to have a teenage daughter who loves to cook...

This came together in no time. She used THIS recipe for the crust, poured on some bottled spaghetti sauce, grated up the mozarella in the food processor, added some canned olives and mushrooms, then sliced a couple of bell peppers and sprinkled them on top.

And since she knew to double it, it fed all 16 of us. Thanks, 15-year-old girl! I don't know how I would manage without you! :)

P.S. I also wanted to show you the cute swallows who have built a nest against our home...

This evening I watched the mother of these 5 babies fly back and forth, back and forth, countless times, finding food for her offspring and feeding it to them one at a time. I thought of all the work I do every day and I realized that work is just part of God's plan. We all have to and should do it, whether we're a swallow or a person. Realizing this made me feel better about working hard. Just thought I'd share.

Today on 365 Days of TV-Free Toddler Time: Laying on a Quilt Outside Time!

Today on life in mexico {and other places} a picture a day: {outside the popsicle store at night}

Images From A Goodbye

So the 18-year-old boy is gone. Here's how it went...

For his last meal, I made something called the "bacon explosion". Yes, this was not appropriate for a proclaimed vegetarian to prepare, but since it was his last meal with us as a boy under our roof, I thought I would succumb to his wishes. Just look at this...

Now, I'm not going to take the credit for the woven bacon mat. I attempted this, but failed miserably, continually weaving strips where they didn't belong. Finally, in frustration, I grabbed the hideous mat, balled up the raw bacon in my hand and threw it back down onto the cookie sheet. The 15-year-old girl, who is also a vegetarian, was having wild success weaving her bacon mat, and asked if I would like it if she wove mine. I said yes.

Then, as if a woven mat of bacon wasn't enough, we fried more bacon with sausage, added onions, garlic, spices and a sauce, rolled it up, then baked it. If you have carnivorous men in your family you would like to really impress, I would suggest making this for them. Just search "bacon explosion" on youtube. The 18-year-old boy pointed out how easy that is to remember because "bacon" and "explosion" are the two coolest things on the planet.

For those who chose life and health over angioplasty, there were other alternatives to the bacon explosion, such as this lovely strawberry salad...

...and mashed potatoes...

(You know I always have to throw in a picture of the twins since they're adorably gorgeous.)

The next day it was time to drop him off at the airport. Even though native El Pasoans make fun our of town for many reasons, including the fact that it is the third "fattest" city in the nation, and the first "sweatiest", I have to say that the airport renovation it just lovely. Copper patina seems to be the theme, such as the roof with pineapple accents...

...and this metal carving along a divider...

There are Mexican and Southwest accents throughout as well...

Okay, enough of that. Back to the 18-year-old boy. Here he is checking in...

I can only imagine the thrill he was feeling knowing that he was taking the first step to striking out on his own.

There was sadness on our parts as we said goodbye...

But there was also indifference...

....and even maybe not so much sadness because I think there were some left-behind X-BOX agreements that took place with the 10-year-old boy...

After he boarded, we hung out a little longer...

...and just in case you want to know, I'm doing okay. My stomach does do a little flip every time I think of him on his own, but then I remember what a good boy his is and that my sister will make him do push-ups if he messes up in any way.

Miss you, 18-year-old boy!




Today on Whole Food Kids: Dark Chocolate Shakes...

Homemaker Monday: A Goodbye Letter to The 18-Year-Old Boy

Welcome to the 92nd weekly edition of...

Thank you for joining us! If you're new to this carnival and would like to enter your post, please check HERE for the rules and regs.

YOURS: This week's "YOURS" goes to Sarah over at "For the Love"! She posts a tutorial on how to make the cutest pompom sandal flats. This is like a copykat recipe, but with shoes! Take a look...

Cute, right? Click HERE to see Sarah's entire tutorial. Thank you so much, Sarah, for your great tip, and we'll look forward to hearing more from you in the future! (Please feel free to take the "I Was Featured" button from my left sidebar if you'd like!)

MINE: What is one of the most important things about homemaking, the end product we are all striving to achieve? To me, the answer is to be able to provide a warm, loving, place in which our children can develop physically, mentally and spiritually and mature into human beings who can then go out into the world and make it a better place.

The time has again come in my life to realize this event, as the 18-year-old boy is striking out on his own....today. He will board a plane headed to California for the summer, where he will work in a science lab with my sister (yes, the one who anonymously stalked me through my email and who has improved drastically after receiving therapy), and surf every day, then report to serve a two-year mission for our church at the end of the summer...

(Shown above posing for the photo for his mission paperwork)

To express my feelings about this, I wrote him a letter to read on the plane. I wasn't sure I should share it with you or not, because it is personal, but because I usually err on the side of being an open book, I decided to post it here. After all, I'm only sharing the way I feel about my son with you, and I hope that's okay. Here it is...

"Dearest 18-year-old boy,

"Hi 18-year-old boy. You know I'm not too comfortable with being all sentimental and stuff (although I know I should have been better about it all these years), but I just wanted to tell you what a pleasure it has been to raise you. I'm really grateful that God gave me the opportunity to be your mom. You are a very unique individual (and I mean that in the best of ways), and you have taught me so much. You taught me that humor can break the ice, and make a difficult situation easier to work out. You taught me that yelling and raising my voice hurts people, and that there are much better ways to teach kids. You taught me that someone can be obedient and do what is right, even if they don't want to or if it's hard.

"Some of the best memories I have of you are times like the one when we were in the restaurant in Utah, and you stood in the back of a random family who were getting their photo taken. The woman you stood next to thought you were cute enough to stay in the photo, but I remember that the woman who was taking the shot didn't like the idea at all. Didn't she say, "Get him outta here!"? That was hysterical!

"Then on a different note, there were the times when the twins were small babies, and John was working in Juarez, and you would hear them both crying at 11:00 at night, and you would get out of bed on a school night, and come downstairs, and ask if you could help. I'll never forget that you did that for me,18-year-old boy. You were really there for me during that, one of the most difficult times of my life, when the twins were babies, and John couldn't be around to help me with them during the week. Thank you.

"Also, it was really special to me that you asked me out to dinner for Mother's Day. It might not have seemed like a big deal to you, but it really meant a lot to me that you would think of it.

"18-year-old boy, I know you've been through a lot in your life. In five and a half short years, you lost your dad in a tragic way, I married someone only 7 months later, and we dragged you down to Mexico, a place I thought would be wonderful and safe and tranquil, but what turned into a dangerous, scary place after we settled in. You should know that I don't ever regret marrying when I did or moving you kids to Mexico, but I want you to know that I acknowledge and understand how difficult it was for you. I know you came away with some really good friends and I also know that EVERYONE in that town, both young and old, absolutely loves you, but I also know it was hard not being able to have the freedom you deserved because of the dangers.

"Something else I want you to know is how very, very proud and happy I am that you have decided to go on a mission after the summer is over. 18-year-old boy, I know this wasn't an easy decision for you, and even now, I'm sure you have mixed feelings. I really can't even begin to imagine what it must feel like to know that you will be going away for two years, working hard sharing the gospel, but not knowing where you will be sent! Will it be to Mexico or South American, where so many young men are being sent, where it's hot and humid, but the people are humble and wonderful? Or will it be in an Eastern Block country, like Russia of the Czech Republic, like where Cody went, where it's bitterly cold, and the people speak a language that you literally know not one word of? Or will it be an island, where you can see the ocean every day, or somewhere in the states, somewhere that is perfectly familiar to you? It must be really exciting to think of it, but really scary at the same time. Even so, please know how proud I am of you for being obedient to this call to serve. I know it was hard to make this choice, but of all the things you could have been obedient to, this was the most important so far. You have made me so happy by doing this and I know that your life will be happy for doing it, too.

"We are really going to miss you. I'm going to miss your help with the kids, how you teach them what is right, how you always drove them around for me, how you rough-housed with the twins and the 3-year-old boy, and how you even held the baby, especially if I put on the password on the computer for you. I'm going to miss having someone so capable around, someone who can fix things and figure things out that I can't, especially things having to do with electronics (although the 13-year-old boy is coming close to your ability in this area). I'm going to miss it when you tell me you like the food I made (which has been rare since I decided to cook mostly vegetarian, but still, sometimes you liked what I made, and I loved that.) I'm going to miss you coming home from school telling me about random stuff that happened, and confessing crazy stuff that you and your friends did after the fact, knowing that I wouldn't get too mad because it happened two months before and you lived through it.

"18-year-old boy, there are things about you that I have heard, things that you don't know I know, that show me what an amazing person you are, what a good person you are, and how you really want to do what's right. Again, I want you to know how proud I am of the person you have been, the person you are, and the person you are becoming. I have seen such change and development in you over the years and you are truly a man now, someone who I KNOW will do great things in his life. I don't worry about how you're going to take care of yourself. You are so capable, a great cook, and a smart, kind, loving person, and you are going to have great success in your life.

"Thank you for being who you are, 18-year-old boy, and I feel it has been a privilege to have been given the chance to raise you until you could be out on your own. I love you very much and I'm actually somewhat jealous of Robyn that she will have you all summer. That being said, I'm so happy you will be with her and I know you are going to have a great time doing mad-scientist kind of stuff and surfing all summer. I'm looking forward to seeing you in July, and then again before you leave for your mission.

"I love you and be good.

"Love,
Your Mother"


OURS: Okay, what are you doing to make your home a better place? I would really like to know! Link up!

A Day in the Big Town, Involving Fresh Oranges and Wisdom Teeth

Today the 18-year-old boy had his wisdom teeth removed as part of his medical preparation to go on a two-year mission for our church. And it just so happens that I am fortunate enough to be married to the nephew of a man who runs a charitable clinic here in Mexico in which doctors from the states donate their skills to help those who can't afford medical care. Plus, this particular dentist also happens to do dental work on pre-missionaries at no charge. Thus, my son was able to enjoy the services of a skilled professional and we were so grateful.

Here is my husband's uncle and his son...

Among the patients who attend this clinic are the Mennonites. They are an group of people similar to the Amish, and our Mormon community and theirs enjoy warm relations...

While the 18-year-old boy was getting his teeth removed, John, the 3-year-old boy, the infant, and I went to get the infants birth certificate, but not before I saw the fresh-squeezed orange juice guy and had to get something to drink during our wait...

I asked him if he had ice to put into my drink and he said no, but that the oranges were very cold...

He was right. The juice was cool and refreshing...

...but most of it went to the 3-year-old boy...

Which is okay.

That's one of the things I love about living in Mexico. There is the fresh-squeezed orange juice man, the orange and honey man, the chili and fruit lady, the fish man, the nut ladies, the sunglasses men, the pineapple and lime people, and the burrito men. It probably has to do with the fact that there are very few health license regulations, but I'm not complaining.

While we waited for the infants birth certificate, I saw a guy wearing really cool boots and I had to take a picture...

I also saw some very pretty flowers growing up a wrought iron fence on the sidewalk...

And this was all before 10:30 AM.

Just so you know, the 18-year boy is doing great, hardly swollen, thanks to advice given by my sister-in-law to put ice on his jaws immediately after the surgery and keep it on during the drive home. Just a tip for the next time your kid has to get his wisdom teeth pulled.

Thanks for listening.


Today on Whole Food Kids: Almond Flour Cupcakes with Vanilla Frosting