My Epic Post-Marathon Meal

I guess it says something about me that I get almost as excited about the food I get to eat after the marathon as I am about the marathon itself. Yesterday I finished the race at around 11 am, and try as I might, I could not stomach any food until 8 pm. This is a big disappointment, people! I grabbed a Creamie Popsicle and a carton of chocolate milk in the finisher's box (or whatever they call it), and immediately regretted it. Way too sick. Too sick to eat at Rumbi with my family on the way home. Too sick to even enjoy the famous Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookies my friend Sierra brought over after the race. Then at about 7:30 pm, I was lying in my bed, writhing around, and I realized I didn't need to writhe anymore. In fact, I actually felt... hungry! Yes!!! All my hard work had finally paid off. But then a strange thing happened. I realized that for perhaps the first time in my entire life, I wasn't in the mood for anything sweet. Huh? Who is this person, I wondered, who finishes marathons and suddenly doesn't have the urge to bury her hand in a bag of chocolate chips? I went into the kitchen to find out. All my favorite healthy foods beckoned to me and I had to snap a picture before I dove into what was one of the best-tasting meals of my life. I decided to share this meal with you in case you ever find yourself in a similar situation.

I realize this isn't the most attractive picture, but trust me, it was astounding.

Item #1: My Famous Quinoa
If you are not familiar with quinoa (pronounced keen-wa), you should be. It is one of the healthiest foods of all time, and is delicious. It is actually a seed, not a grain, and is a complete protein, rich in fiber, calcium, magnesium and iron. I just learned that on Wikipedia. I buy it at Costco in a beautiful green bag, near its inferior cousin, rice.

To prepare, combine the following ingredients in a medium saucepan:
* 2 cups water
* 1 cup rinsed quinoa (just throw it in a fine-meshed strainer and run some water over it)
* 1-2 tsp. chicken bouillon granules (you can also substitute a can of chicken broth for some of the water)
* Some chopped onion. I use frozen.
* 1 can of beans, rinsed. I usually use black beans, but today I used kidney beans and they were fabulous.

Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to a simmer and cover for 15 minutes or so. The liquid will be absorbed when it is done.

Item #2: Salmon Patty
If you are turned off by the term "salmon patty", I don't blame you. What is appealing about a fish patty? Well, obviously you have never tried the salmon burgers from Costco. Tsk, tsk. They are breath-taking. Every member of my family, from Jason down to Jake, can devour these in a matter of seconds. When I was eating my Perfect Meal, I had to defend my precious salmon patty from the legion of vultures, also known as my children, who suddenly appeared despite the fact that Jason had fixed each of them their own salmon patty merely an hour before.

To prepare the precious patty, just heat a non-stick skillet over medium-high heat. Throw on a frozen patty and sprinkle with dried dill and garlic salt. Flip over after a few minutes. You want each side nice and blackened, but not too blackened. You will know in your heart when it is done.


Item #3: Green Salad with BYU Ranch

Let me be clear: I am not a huge fan of Ranch dressing. I AM a huge fan of Ranch dressing from the BYU creamery. It is smooth and creamy and not bitter in the least. It is also light, clocking in at only 50 calories per two tablespoon serving, which is a large enough serving to swim in, which you might want to do, and all my kids love salad because of it. The next time you are in Provo, swing by ye ole Creamery and grab a few gallons. You will thank me, I promise. My salad this night consisted of a handful of greens from my trusty Costco, some sunflower seeds, feta cheese, and a few croutons because I can't be afraid of carbs on a day I run a marathon. Also some dried cranberries for color, but they still didn't improve the picture. But I don't care. It was perfect. I also used the Ranch as a dip for the salmon, and let's be honest, the quinoa.

Item #4: Dessert
By the time I had polished off my meal and licked the platter clean, I was feeling more like myself and was finally in the mood for a little something sweet, so of course I reached for... The Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookie. It is called the Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookie for a reason. Not gonna lie.

I had to make the decision of which to take first: a picture or a bite. Need I say more? I like how the cookie seems to be yawning, or perhaps singing. Probably to me, saying, "Good job on your marathon, Anne Marie! You deserve me and my five brothers whenever your little heart desires." Amen, brother, amen.

A Mother's Day to Remember. Or not.

I had to laugh this morning at all the forces of the universe conspiring against me as I tried to accomplish a huge goal in my life - to play the piano in sacrament meeting. Yes, I was just accompanying the Primary kids singing Teach Me to Walk in the Light, but it was a BIG deal for me and I wasn't going to let anything get in my way. However, it almost didn't happen.

I took the kids on a quick trip to Burley this weekend to see my brother Aaron perform his Senior Recital. I can't go to his graduation, so I was determined to go and be a part of this, even if I had to take the kids myself and be there less than 24 hours. We had a great time, and of course got a late start on the journey home Saturday night. But I had to be back to play the piano in our 9 am sacrament meeting, so staying wasn't an option.

I packed up the kids and pulled out of my parents' driveway at about 7 pm. Luke had been complaining that he didn't feel good, but I was hoping he was just making it up. My mom sent him with a barf bag just to be sure. As we drove past the rest area near, well, nowhere, on I-84, Dallin yelled, "Mom, Luke is barfing all over everything and it's not in the bag!" It was true. Luke had barfed all over himself and the entire backseat and not a speck of it had gone in the bag. I pondered that mystery during the unpleasant 15 minutes to the gas station in Snowville, where I got him out and started to brush the contents of his stomach off his clothes. At this point I got a whiff of something else. Something worse.

"Luke, did you....?" "No, Mom, I swear I didn't!" I checked his pants, and yes, he did. Poor little fellow didn't even realize that when he was throwing up, he was also... throwing down, as we like to put it delicately. Now that presents a problem when you are at a gas station with no other adult and three other kids. I've already given you more detail than perhaps I should have, so I will stop there and just say that I took him in to the bathroom with a pack of wet wipes and prayed that the other kids would not be victimized in any way by the rif raf in the parking lot of the greasiest Flying J in the nation. I considered taking them all in with me, but the bathroom is small and what would I do with Jake while I performed the necessary but horrific actions that would be required of me? We would end up with even more germs than we already had. It worked out in the end, and we continued on our journey without further incident, arriving home just after 11:30 pm. I unpacked the barf-filled vehicle and prayed that no one else would get sick.

This morning I was up early, freshly showered and ready to practice the piano and conquer my fear of playing in sacrament meeting. Abby came in to my bathroom and sat on the potty. A moment later I could hear the choking and gagging noise that mothers know all too well. I grabbed her off the toilet and spun her around. She successfully barfed into the toilet and I congratulated myself on a job well done and further cleanup avoided. It was at this moment that I was aware of a warm sensation on my feet. You will remember that her pajamas were around her ankles at the time. I looked down and had a realization that would ruin any Mother's Day, I don't care who you are. While she was throwing up, she was also... throwing down. All over the floor and my bare feet. Shall I say it again? All over my bare feet. Less than an hour before I was to conquer my fears and become a new person, all on Mother's Day.

I did the only thing I could do. I looked heavenward and called for help. My cry was answered by Jason, who came in, surveyed the scene, and asked in a horrified voice, "What do you want me to do?" I could only croak out a small, "I don't know." Then he left.

I cleaned up the crime scene, disinfected my feet and went to church, unpracticed and unabashed. When the time came for the Primary children to sing I marched to the front, hid at the piano behind all the standing kids, and played the song. I didn't make any mistakes until the third verse when I started thinking, "Hey, this is fun! I'm really good at this! Why was I so scared?" and lost my place and played three wrong notes. I don't think anybody noticed because the kids and moms were all singing together and apparently getting emotional from the wonderfulness of it all. I'm proud to say I was a part of it and I didn't let nerves, barf or shiz get in my way.

"I let my 6 year old be lowered into a bear den by someone I met on the Internet."

Now how many people can say that? I know of exactly one - my husband. Incidentally, there was a bear IN the den at the time. A mad bear, cornered by seven hound dogs. What a fun thing for a little boy to see. Let's lower him by his feet and hang him upside down five feet from a mad bear! Here, random friend I met on MonsterMuleys.com, you take one leg, I'll take the other...

That wasn't the only confession Jason made after returning from his bear hunt in southern Utah this weekend.

"I also put the boys out on several ledges that were very dangerous."

Maybe some things that you might not want to share with your wife if you ever want to spend unsupervised time with your children. Ever. Again.

Just a thought.

Don't get me wrong, I'm glad Jason wants to spend time with the boys and take them hunting. I just sleep a lot better once they are home and safe. And I kind of wish they would keep all the details to themselves. Sheesh!

Perspective

The other night was a typical, crazy evening going from one thing to the next. I was tired, frazzled and grouchy, but trying hard to get everything done and still stay a sane mama, one deep breath at at time. We had just arrived at Dallin's first baseball game of the season. I parked the van on the side of the busy street and proceeded to unload the kids. I noticed that Jake's diaper was about one ounce away from a major soak-through, so I instructed the other three to stay by the driver's door so I could hurry and change him. I specifically remember saying, "Abby, stand there and don't move." Then I turned my back.

A minute later I was aware of a car going by way too fast. I glanced up to make sure Abby was still standing by my side. She was gone.

I looked across the street and saw Jason carrying her, walking toward me, shaking his head. He was meeting us there and Abby had run to meet him as soon as she had seen him approaching.

"She ran right out in front of that car! It's a miracle she wasn't hit! Why weren't you watching her?" Jason was upset with me, and he had every right to be. I tried to explain to him that I don't have enough hands, that I was trying my hardest, that I told her to stand there, all the reasons that were completely true, but could never justify the life of our child.

"You need to watch her better!"

"I know. I know."

All I could think was, "She could have been killed. It would have been my fault. She could have been killed."  All the emotions of the crazy day and the reality of what almost just happened overwhelmed me. I loaded Jake back into his car seat and told Jason to take Luke and Abby to watch the game. I felt bad missing Dallin's game, but I was too shaken to try to put on a happy face and sit/wrestle Jake for the next hour and a half.

As I drove home through my tears, I prayed. I'm trying my hardest to be a good mom, to meet everyone's needs and be in every place I need to be, but sometimes it's just not enough. I can't do it all. It's too much. Four kids, four hundred places to be, I'm constantly being pulled in so many different directions. If I work hard at one thing, everything else suffers. There just isn't enough of me to go around. I can't do it all. What am I supposed to do?

Later, I opened the April issue of the Ensign to Elder Bednar's article, The Atonement and the Journey of Mortality. It focuses on the power of grace and how Christ literally gives us his enabling power to do and to be more than we could ever be on our own. I could practically hear the answers to my prayers as I read.

"Because He paid the ultimate price and bore that burden, He has perfect empathy and can extend to us His arm of mercy in so many phases of our life. He can reach out, touch, succor—literally run to us—and strengthen us to be more than we could ever be and help us to do that which we could never do through relying upon only our own power."

She might have been killed. But she wasn't.

I can't do it all. You don't have to.

What am I supposed to do? Just what you can.

I'm so grateful for the knowledge I have that I only have to do my best. It may not be perfect, or anywhere near, but as long as I am doing my best I can rely on the Savior to make up the difference. I know bad things will still happen. I know life will be hard. I'm just grateful that this time, my daughter was protected and I have the opportunity to start fresh and focus on what matters most.

Happy B-Day to Me

I turned 35 a few weeks ago. To be honest, I have dreaded this birthday for 35 years. But now that it has come and gone, I have to wonder, what was I so worried about? 35 is great! I feel like a spring chicken. Young, full of life and possibility... not nearly as geriatric as I had imagined. So I've decided not to hide my age. Who really cares if younger people think I'm old? They are always going to be younger than me, just sitting in the background, getting older themselves at the same time they are judging me for being old. There are just as many people who are older and recognize my youth and vitality for what it is (almost gone, but not quite). I've still got a few good years left in me. I'll take what I can get. 

I had a great birthday, minus the fact that our trampoline blew away at 8 am on my birthday morn. I just have to count it as a birthday present because now I don't have to move the thing every time I mow the lawn. Truly, I'm sad it's gone, but I listed it for free on ksl.com and had about 20 phone calls in 30 minutes from people who wanted a free, ruined trampoline. I think that is as popular as I have ever been in my life, so happy birthday to me. I kept taking phone calls long after it was committed to a happy individual because I was having so much fun answering the phone. Okay, so maybe being 35 is a little depressing if that's my idea of a good time these days.

You may remember that my brother Ryan and I are the same age for one day. Every year we pose proudly with a sign that tells our age on my birthday. Now we include our posterity, so here we are with my four and his three. I think they are about as nutty as a group of kids can be. 

All I really wanted for my birthday was a break from cooking dinner for one night, so we went to one of my favorite places, Blue Lemon.

The traditional family birthday picture. I think we were a little more energetic than the old Blue Lemon was used to. Oh well, we had fun.

I always tell myself I am going to try something new but I change my mind at the last second and order my favorite, the Pear and Gorgonzola Spinach Salad. When it arrives at the table, I think, wow, this could feed a family of five. I'm definitely taking some home this time. Ten minutes later, as I finish the last bite and scrape the dressing off the plate with my fork, I think, wow, that was good.

Jason hooked me up with some fabulous presents this year, as always. He took me out to lunch and then to Runner's Corner in Orem and waited patiently for me to get fitted with new running shoes by my new favorite person, Hawk. I knew Hawk would be my new favorite person just by his name, and I was not disappointed. I felt like I got a personal training session along with the perfect pair of shoes. I also got some new running clothes, a few dance games for the Wii, and the immersion blender I have wanted since the beginning of time. Yes!

Good bye, my fair friend. Next time, we won't take the weights off your legs one week before a large wind storm. We promise.

Dallin Gets His Woof/The Family Bat Who Wasn't Really a Bat

I hate to admit it, but I've never been too excited about Scouts. When Dallin turned eight I think it was the thing I dreaded most. It was fun to go down to the Scout office and get his little outfit and book, but I don't think he or I touched it for months. He went to activities and we all went to Pack Meeting (occasionally), but my heart just wasn't in it. Man that year went fast! Suddenly, it was almost time for him to graduate to Bears and he wasn't even close to being an official Wolf (or "Woof" as his Scout leader called it, and I am 100% not joking about that). So we busted our little behinds and got his dang Woof requirements completed right before his birthday. Maybe a few days after. Anyway, he was due to get his award, but because of a vacation and the Blue & Gold banquet, he was finally going to get it during the March episode of Pack Meeting.

Enter one of the biggest moral dilemmas of my mothering career. Pack Meeting is normally on a Tuesday. Or a Wednesday. I can never really remember which one, it is just definitely never on a Thursday. Especially not Thursday, March 22, the opening night of Hunger Games, for which my friends and I have had tickets for months and planned an epic Girls' Night Out. I realized the conflict the night before, and it was a huge conflict in my heart as well. Dallin was looking so forward to getting his award. I was looking so forward to my GNO. Dallin could get his award in April. I could see the Hunger Games later, by myself, lonely, cold and afraid. But my son... my little son must be my priority. So I forfeited my ticket and went to Pack Meeting. I was weeping in my heart on the way over, when Dallin said, "Mom, I woke up this morning and thought this was going to be a bad day. But then I remembered I was getting my award tonight, and I knew it would be a good day." So, that made it all worth it right there. That, and the joyful fellow who is peeking over my shoulder in the pictures. Seriously, how can Scouts not be fun with leaders like that?  

See him back there?

He's still there!

Ah, my little Woof. Maybe we will get started on the Bear now so we can choose a night to get the award that does not correspond with the opening of a major must-see teenage movie. Sheesh.

Now on to the Family Bat. If you know me very well, you know I love bats. It all started in the second grade when I found a bat hanging under the window of my second grade class. My teacher captured the bat in a jar and turned it into the Class Pet. I was kind of a nobody back then, if you can imagine that (ha), and I was suddenly catapulted to second grade stardom, all thanks to a furry little flying creature. For this I have always been grateful to bats and felt somewhat indebted to them.

Not to make this the Longest Post Ever or anything, but I decided years ago that if I was ever faced with the decision of which animal to be, I would definitely be a bat. Specifically, a fruit bat. Think of the benefits. A mammal, who can fly. They mate for life. Care for their young. Eat fruit, for crying out loud. How great would that life be? Okay, so it's basically my life right now, except for the flying part, but I really think being able to fly would enhance my life in so many ways. Anyway.

You can imagine my joy last week when Jason and Luke reported that we had a bat living under our deck! Our very own bat, or Family Bat, as it came to be known. They had seen the Family Bat a few times when they suddenly turned on the light and opened the door. I didn't really believe it because it was just too good to be true, but then one night I snuck down with Luke and flung the door open and turned on the light and there he was! The Family Bat! Flapping around, darting this way and that, a definite bat of our own!

I tried to get a few pictures, but he was too fast, or maybe I was too slow. It didn't matter. We all knew the Family Bat was there.

Until tonight. Luke and I performed our nightly ritual of sneaking down to see the Family Bat, me with camera in hand and hope in my heart. Except something was amiss. We flung open the door, but instead of flying, he was sitting (hey... bats don't sit! they hang...). And he didn't move. He let me capture the following shot on my camera, before taking off and floating and flitting this way and that, just like a bat. The bat that he was not.

I mean, if I wanted a Family Bird I would go buy one! You can't buy bats. They are not for sale, or believe me, I would be raising a little batch of them right now. Bats are meant to be free, living under porches and making people's dreams come true. Not just sitting there and impersonating more worthy and inspiring creatures. So it is with a heavy heart that I admit I don't really have a Family Bat, even though he will always live on in my soul.

Recent Goings On

I like this time of year. Kind of busy, kind of not. No pressure to really do anything except be ourselves. Everyone is looking forward to spring, winter is hopefully on its way out. A few recent goings-on: The boys finished up their basketball season. Jason played in the Lehi Alumni Basketball Tournament (and won!), the kids took a bath in their swimming suits, and Jake found love. Pretty exciting stuff! Here are the pictures to prove it:

Dallin LOVES basketball! He is pure joy to watch. He has the confidence I could only dream of as a youth. Never afraid to take a shot, never afraid to try his best. He missed several shots in a row in his last game, but that didn't stop him from shooting and eventually making nine baskets. He also passed the ball a time or two! I was a proud mama.

This was Luke's first year playing Jr. Jazz, and to be honest, I didn't expect much. Luke has never really showed a lot of interest in sports. Well, he surprised us all! It probably helped that he was a head taller than most of the kids he played with, but he really went for it and did amazingly well! In his last game he made a total of 5 baskets. He considered them all 3 pointers because they were more than 3 steps from the basket. Sometimes Grandpa Yates gives the boys a dollar for each basket they make. Luke somehow calculated that he had earned $21. When Dallin informed him that he got a dollar per basket, not per (fictitious) point, Luke said he wouldn't have even shot the ball if he had known. When I asked him if he was just in it for the money, he looked at me like I was stupid and said, "Well, yeah!" I guess maybe we have a little work ahead of us in the Luke Sports Department.

Jason had the chance to reunite with his high school basketball team for the annual Lehi Alumni Tournament last week. That is a week of fun and soreness, let me tell you! Still, I think it's pretty cool that so many of his friends and teammates are still around and they play together so well after all these years.

Jason is #2, under the basket. His team won the championship through a  lot of blood, sweat and tears. I was just glad he didn't suffer any long-term injuries! 1997 was a long time ago, but they held their own. Especially when they were playing the little pencil-necked whippersnappers of 2012. Kids these days are so young! And agile.

What could be more fun that getting your swimming suit on and taking a bath with 3 other people? Not much, according to these weirdos. We're all about cheap entertainment in these parts. And counting down the days til summer!

Lukie Dukie, my little 6-year-old snaggle tooth. He has grown up so much this year. I can't believe he is almost finished with kindergarten! He's practically a man now.

Little Crazy Man Jake is completely smitten with our cute little neighbor. I baby-sat her for a few hours last week and he followed her around the house making kissing noises, "Mm-wah! Mm-wah!" I am totally fine with the two of them getting married in the future. In fact, I hope they do. The older my kids get, the more I am in favor of arranged marriages, especially if I get to do the arranging. I will pick their future spouses based on how fun their future in-laws will be for me to hang out with. In this case, Jake and I will both luck out.

Jake is truly the craziest child I have ever met. Jason and I have devised a test that is a fairly accurate prediction of his behavior in any given situation. It is called "What Would a Raccoon Do?" or WWRD for short. Just think about a raccoon and an open bathroom door. Or a pantry full of food. Or how a raccoon  would behave if you tried to get it to sit on your lap for an hour and fifteen minutes of sacrament meeting - would it sit still and be satisfied with one tiny piece of bread and a tiny cup of water? I wonder? I'm not even going to go into the garbage situation, but it involves apple cores and used tissues and everything else that so gloriously resides in the garbage/Jake's mouth. Just use your imagination, and you can envision what my life is currently like. The poor kid has pneumonia right now and is one sad little camper. It's kind of nice to have him want to cuddle up to me. I know it won't last for long, so I am soaking it in, even though I hope he feels better soon. 

As for me, I'm just try to keep up and enjoy the moments as they come. Sometimes having a house full of little kids is so overwhelming. I find myself wishing for quiet afternoons and time alone, but I know that day will come and I will wish for these days back. We are in the middle of our first (and possibly last) "TV-Free Week" and it has been an adventure. I'm so against kids constantly watching TV and playing video games, but I find myself justifying it way too often just so I can get something done. I finally decided that enough was enough and I needed to see what I could actually accomplish without the helpful drone of the TV to occupy the kids. The answer is, not much! But that's okay. What matters in the eternal scheme of things is the time I spend with my kids, not how clean my kitchen is or how quickly I can finish 800 loads of laundry. I love these little people with all my heart and I hope I can make the most of the time I have to love them and teach them and just partake of the joy that is at my fingertips every single day. Also, having an emergency bag of chocolate chips in the pantry works wonders.