Mother Tucker

It looks beautiful outside . . . from the view through my windows, contained in the warmth of my home.  But we ventured out this morning to be reminded that, yes, winter coats are still needed. And I find myself turning heaters on . . . hmm

I made the best bread ever . . . :)  A friend of ours . . . or of Justin’s, from school gave him a ‘friendship bread’ starter thingy. I’ve never been aware of these baggies of goodness in my whole existence on Earth, but we received one from R, oh geez, 3 weeks ago. I don’t know, about a month ago.  Anyway I made the one she gave me . . . but 4 starters were spawned from that one start.  You’re suppose to give them away . . . not horde them as I have done.  I tried, mind you . . . I tried to give them away, I did!  But to no avail . . . they remained on my counter and baking day was last Sunday.  If you aren’t aware of this phenomenon . . . you get the start and you mush the bag and add some minor ingredients for 10 days and on the 10th day you add some more stuff and bake it . . .

Ok, so I made one baggy of the mix and decided in my pea-brain that putting instant coffee in it would create a nice flavor. So, I proceed to boil 6 oz of water, dissolve the instant coffee (I do this with cookies, mmm)  and pour the boiling contents directly into my prepared mix.  Ok . . . somewhere along the line I forgot you HAVE to cool the instant coffee water to add it . . . so, as some reading this have already determined, it came out like rubber.  It didn’t rise like it was suppose to.  So I wasted that baggy.

I had to buy more flour so they other 2 baggies remained distilling on my counter (the fourth baggy had busted, yay me).

You can flavor this mix pretty much anyway you want. So Justin buys apple pie filling.  That doesn’t interest me greatly, so I go to the store and pick up chocolate chips and cream cheese.  Yeah, can we spell h.e.a.l.t.h.y.  Apparently I can’t cook healthy.  Anyhoo . . . that was the first baggy . . . turned out too good, cuz I ate the first loaf (it creates 2 loaves per baggy).  I sent the 2nd one to school with Justin today.

The second, ok . . . ok, I’ll use the apples, geez.  I did and I added a lot more cinnamon and then did an oatmeal and brown sugar topping. It turned out nice too . . . but the chocolate is what called my name. That second loaf went to school today too . . . something tells me I’m going to be pretty popular with the fireman/woman in hubby’s world. Maybe . . .

Do you like all the positive and arrogant speech I’ve written so far about my spectacular bread. :)  It did turn out nice but then if dog crap had chocolate pieces in it . . . I’d be tempted to eat it . . . so that ain’t sayin’ much.

Yay for good bread . . . actually it reminds me more of Costco muffins . . . you know, the gigantic oily lumps of goodness? Mmm!

Ok, I will end this rambling post for your sakes.

God Bless and happy bread making . . . if you want a friendship bread starter baggy thingy . . . let me know . . . right now I’ve got 12 or so distilling on my counter. :)  I can’t seem to get anyone to take them. Or maybe I haven’t tried hard enough.

Alright . . . some good friends of ours gave me a bag of popcorn kernels . . . is that what you call them before they’re popped? How old am I? Why don’t I know the answer to that?

Anyway . . . I have never popped popcorn outside of a prepackaged microwavable bag . . . careful opening it, its hot!

Ok, so I had a bit of the munchies (no I don’t smoke pot) yesterday and decided that that would be a healthier munchy than, say, cookies or candy . . . the two that were also on the mind’s list of yummy edibles.

If you weren’t aware I’m working on losing the next 20 lbs of flab that has stuck itself to my ribs (thighs, arms, fingers, butt, etc) and so healthy was gnawing at the back of my mind.

I read the directions (crazy!!) and decided it sounded easy peasy.  And it was easy peasy! And oh so good!!

If you choose to follow my diet ideas . . . be aware that tiny 1/3 cup of kernels pops a gigantic bowl of popcorn . . . the popcorn you then must drizzle with olive oil and salt it until tastes as though it came from the sea.

Yes, my friends . . . not so healthy after I mutilated it.  And I had one bowl (or barrel, whatever) . . . I did share with my boys, but how much can a 3 year old and 1 1/2 year old actually eat?

Then hubby came home and we were hanging out after the chitlins had drifted to sleep and I was going on and on about how good the “real” popcorn turned out, compared to crappy microwave popcorn.  I went on so much that he asked me to make some, that it sounded good.

Um . . . so I did.  And then I proceeded to eat over half the bowl (barrel) of popcorn cuz apparently he wasn’t as impressed or something.

So, diet didn’t go so well yesterday.

But, on a brighter note . . . I have started jogging outdoors in the wee morning hours, before the house wakes to the chaotic. I have found such solace in my time out . . . I take my crazy Jack, Byron, and we hit the pavement. I’m able to get home, take a shower, get dressed (for the day!!) and have breakfast on its way before the boys start screeching and talking from their cribs.

Mind you, its been COLD here . . . in the 35 or so when I start up at 6:45am . . . but I warm quickly the jostling of jogging and its been tolerable . . . though I’ve decided I still hate the rain.

So, one of my friends, K, and I are planning on a 5k in the fall . . small goal but not so small at the same time.  Maybe I’ll actually be in shape for it. weird

Ok, I’m going now.  Hubby is back to school and shift today . . . so I’m on my own . . . though I was pretty much ready for a day to myself, so thats cool . . . ask me in a week . . . I’ll be ready for him to be on break again.

God Bless!!

Upclose Byron . . . my crazy and obnoxious Jack Russell 

I did not leave the apartment property allllll day long today. Its been so nice and warm outside that we’ve gone on good walks everyday and I went grocery shopping and walked down the business district close by and . . .

Well, today was cold, cloudy . . . and cold. I believe the clouds managed to dump rain on us as well around 6pm. We played on the playground for approximately 20 minutes and the kids . . . yeah, you heard right . . . the kids wanted to come inside. Bleary, that sums up the day’s weather and therefor my existence in my apartment . . . nicknamed the human crate.

Byron, our darling pooch, sleeps in a crate at night. He prefers his crate since thats what we had to do when he was pup due to T being a baby (and Mother Tucker’s stress level). So I refer to our lovely (which I’m grateful for, mind you) apt. as the human crate . . . especially being car-less and such, I feel boxed up sometimes . . . a bit of crate fever (cabin fever, but I don’t live in a cozy little cabin with a wood-burning fireplace).

Byron was so bored he managed to squeeze out underneath the railing (a Houdini move) of our patio and ran off. He just did circles for about 20 minutes and then finally relented to coming inside. I’m glad nobody hit him driving through the parking lot! He also missed our routine walk, like the rest of us, apparently.

So, if anything I’ve become more excited for the warmth that promises to be shortly!

Alright thats all the nonsense I can muster for the evening.

God bless! . . . and have a great weekend!!

Um, its Byron’s nose . . . if you couldn’t tell.

We have electric wall heat in the apartment that we reside. Yeah, you guessed it, fun stuff that is!

Anyway after the first two chilly nights, this past fall, that I attempted to set Toby’s heater with the thermostat I was awoken by 2am to pretty disturbed crying in the room next to ours. Much like a slug, I removed myself slowly from bed and down and around the hall to Tobias’ room.  Upon opening the door the air within his room gushed out, revealing how hot, approximately 80 - 90 degrees, it had gotten. Ok, lesson learned . . . thermostats on wall heaters . . . at least ours . . . don’t work, necessarily.  So, since that incident, I leave his heater completely off at night . . . no worries, he’s got plenty of blankets, even a sleeping bag to curl under for warmth.  He doesn’t complain, so I haven’t worried.

Samuel on the other hand, his thermostat was working decently. I left it alone, set at one temperature . . . afraid to mess it up for night time, it remained that temp all day, all the time; to the disapproval of the hubby.

So, I didn’t think anything about the heater when I laid Sam down last night.  I woke up once during the night as though I had dreamed one of my kids was crying. I listened for a long time (a whole minute or two) before drifting back into sleep . . . not hearing a peep from the other rooms.

This morning the kids woke us bright and early around 7am. Justin and I lingered in bed, mostly dozing in and out for a bit and then we got to talking.  The boys sounded like they were happily playing, though I heard a screech from Sam’s room a couple of times.  Justin is rarely home in the morning to just wake up to . . . so I was in no hurry.

Oh, hold back the critism and judgment.  The guilt was lathered nice and thick when we opened Sam’s door to get him out of bed . . . an hour after I initially heard them wake up . . . to searing heat . . . like Mojave Desert.  UGH! Stupid heaters! His little cheeks were pink and I could tell he hadn’t slept well.

I am extremely sensitive to noises in the night . . . especially when it comes to my boys . . . and, except for the one time (which I thought was a dream), I heard not a peep.

I almost cried with guilt and angst over knowing he had suffered a uncomfortable night in the heat of the Sahara.

We went about our morning . . . after Sam gulped down over a cup of water and I apologized like a million times.  He enjoyed his pancakes. We hung out, said good bye to dad as he left for school and played on the patio . . . refilling his water every time I saw it empty.

I sat them up, a little early, for lunch at 11:15am.  They stared at their sandwhich but started in on the crackers.  I headed back for the dryer to fold clothes. I took about 5 minutes, walked back into the dining area and Sam was full out asleep in the highchair.   Tobias looked like he was headed that direction, so I managed to get them down for naps by 11:40 . . . earlier than usual.

And yes, the heaters are off.

Warmth, that sums up the last few days around these here parts. I live in the northern Willamette Valley of Oregon . . . warm enough through the winter we don’t get snow (rarely) but we deal with cold (15-35 degrees) and rainy days. The much needed break has come . . . signs spring is slowly taking over winter’s position as weather-master. Winter is stubborn and will speak up a few more times before moving on, I’m sure; but the break of sun and warm temperatures has been altogether refreshing. I look forward to fresh growth on trees and in flower beds and long stints outside, hiking, walking, jogging, playground shenanigans and more! Maybe I’ll finally drop that last 25 lbs or so. Oh yeah and to shed the thick winter coat for good! . . . well, until next year anyway.

I hear my boys waking from nap time slumber so I’m going for now.

God Bless!

And Happy Spring Moments!

Well, this is more of summertime moment . . . but you get my general drift. Byron and Tobias . . . Best friends.

Ah, I love being outdoors . . . more than being anywhere indoors.

I am blessed to be in such a naturally beautiful setting as the Willamette Valley but, as you may well have figured out if you’ve read any posts, I absolutely despise the cold; rain is even worse. I’m not in the mountains so snow is rare. I understand the rain and the winter cold is needed for the health of our rain forests and the environment I take advantage of when its not rainy or cold or both. But, when we’re rich and famous, I’m getting a winter home in Hawaii; leave October 15th and return to my log cabin mansion April 15th. That would be perfect, I tell ya. Best of both worlds! All of you are invited to our home in Hawaii, I’ll let ya know when the loan is approved. Of course we’ll have to find our mansion in the valley first and move out of our poor people apartments. Ah, it might be awhile, might as well get a late night snack and relax . . . maybe snooze a little . . . I’ll wake you.

So, I . . . by myself, probably would not venture outside in the winter months, except to get into my car and out of my car to enter another heated facility. Buuuut, I have two boys that adore the outdoors; would freeze to death soaking wet before voluntarily coming inside. I barely remember being the same way.

I was infatuated (still am) with horses and was always always involved with exercising someone’s horses or owning one of my own . . . my parents weren’t wealthy so not too many of my own . . . spendy critters. But horses live outdoors, year around . . . well, the horses I rode did anyway. And most people want you to exercise their horses during the cold months due to their (the owners of the horses) inability to function in the cold and the desire to have an in shape (and well behaved) trail horse in the summer. I had to be outdoors to be around them, ride them, hang all over them, pet them until their winter hair came out involuntarily, feed them to the brink of foundering, and just plain be with them; sometimes just staring at them as they stood, heads hung shoulder level, eyes drooping to sleep despite the nasty drizzle and dipping temperatures. I don’t once remember taking note of how cold it was or rainy. The only thing I remember being aware of is how slick the ground was because I had a horse, multiple times (same horse, hmmm) slide out from underneath me, landing full on his side; lucky I didn’t get pinned underneath! Anyway, a bit paranoid of the rain-soaked ground, still am.

I’m nearing 31 and I am cold constantly, so when I get warm, i.e., put on enough layers, heat the house so when the hubby comes home he can’t breath for a few moments and turns bright red and directly turns the heat down, curl under my down comforter the nights he works his 24 hour shift at the firehouse with my fleece sweatshirt, long pj pants and my foot slippers on that look like stuffed animal tennis shoes . . . and sometimes it still takes me several minutes to stop chattering. When the hot fireman hubby is home, the bed almost gets too hot . . . ok, in more than one way. hee hee. sorry if I grossed you out with that one . . . Couldn’t help myself.

This phenomenon (of being cold, that is) has been heightened since my last pregnancy. Samuel is my second and last child to be born naturally (by choice, still considering adoption later on) and he was born September 12th. Do you know what that birthday insinuates? You guessed it . . . summertime pregnancy from hell . . . so overweight I couldn’t tie my own shoes, much less breathe. It could be a 55 degree evening and I would be sweating bullets of, well, sweat; I think it was sweat . . . I couldn’t drink enough water to keep up the sweating, I don’t think, so I’m not sure what it was. If I moved from a sitting position I would instantly sweat and become out of breath, no matter the temperature or the aide of my husband to launch my 9 month pregnant body off our drooping, overstuffed couch. So you could imagine the ordeal of being home, pretty much alllll the time alone with a 1 and a half year old Tobias; the one who is never out of energy and always into something. I would mention we had 2 year old Jack Russell (still do, well now he’s 3 and a half yrs old) but I basically just ignored his existence by the 7 month time, so that doesn’t play into the amount of energy expended during the 9 month mark. Thankfully hubby loves his dog . . . so he got to go to work with him lots. So since knowing heat like no one should ever know before passing out or dieing . . . my body just doesn’t even want to get close to be that hot again, I suppose, so it stays cold . . . maybe my blood is cold, like a reptile or amphibian sort. Maybe I need a human sized heat rock and special lighting. I won’t eat crickets though.

We were out in it today . . . the weather tricked us and made us comfy in the thought it was warmer than it was and it wasn’t going to drizzle. We trooped out in sweatshirts for warmth and minutes into our afternoon jaunt it started to drizzle and cool off considerably. Ugh!!!!

Tobias in the orange, Sam in the brown overalls and super pooch (Byron) Jack Russell Extraordinare (sp) in the white.

So, I figure you made it through over 900 words of Mother Tucker crap, you deserve some pictures, so here’s some more of today’s tiny outing.

Samuel, running away from me as usual . . . (I don’t remember Tobias doing this) if I even pretend like I’m going to say Samuel’s name to give direction . . . he runs from me. grrr

Ok, I take crap pictures, but its not all my fault . . . the boy never looks up at me whilst he’s running about free of the bondage known, so familiarly, as the indoors. The camera barely caught him at all here.

Oh, there’s his cute face . . . Good grief, he looks just like his daddy! Like the cement burn right under the hairline on his forehead? He falls and just doesn’t catch himself with his hands . . . its like the 4th one he’s had in about 6 weeks. I feel bad but this last time I was like, “uh, not again . . . why don’t you use your hands to catch yourself, instead of your head?” He didn’t care much to answer through his screams of agony and pain. And, yes, I comforted him, put a band aid on it with neosporin. I’m not all mean.

Oh yeah, here’s the other one, he has a face too . . . and he’s not running away. Samuel Caiden!

I believe this is the longest post in Mother Tucker blogging history. I commend you for getting through it without falling asleep or finding something more interesting to do.

God bless!!

My two boys have to get outside everyday; every other day at the least.

We live in an apartment while Justin is going to school full time (actually double-time at 26 credits, eeks!).  The apartment is large, relatively speaking. But no amount of controlled rough housing indoors compares with the energy-burning walk we’ve taken up.

We start in front of our apartment, which faces the parking lot.  We turn left and follow the strip of grass down, oh 6 -8 apartments down to the end of the building (dodging the dog poo as we go), take another left and then another left; leaving the parking lot behind (parking lots, not conducive for a nearly 3 yr old and a 17 m. old to play near) and we find ourselves behind our complex.

Its nice, tree lined with the roots of the trees visible above ground, as though their gripping the soil with their very fingers.  The grass is lush and there’s plenty of space for them to wonder around; checking out dirt, rocks and sticks.  I point out to an excited Tobias the squirrels and variety of birds that gather at the feeders.  The gentleman that resides in the end unit faithfully refills these feeders attached to the fence and hanging from the tree, keeping the squirrels out and about all year.  Tobias has noises for each critter and he almost shouts the squawks for the birds and high-pitched barks for the squirrels.

We follow the wide corridor of nature until ends at the playground where boys proceed to burn off the remainder of their energies for the time being.  We trudge indoors, wet, cold and satisfied with fresh air.

Glimpse of Samuel.  He’s enjoying the playground equipment to its fullest!

It’s been over 24 hours since I’ve written . . . what is the meaning of this madness?

You know, when I write this stuff I imagine no one is reading it. I’m just writing cuz I like it and I know my momma reads it. So, not no one, but only one, me momma. So I apologize if stuff gets too wordy or personal, that’s something I might need to see a doctor about. I’m always surprised when people mention my blog. ‘huh, you read that junk?’ is my thought.

Well, let’s see Tobias’ potty training is going fine. Still haven’t pooped in the toilet. You know, small confession, I was reading a blog post by someone just recently that had a picture of their kid’s first poo in the toilet. I was like ‘Why would you do that, yuck?’ And ‘I’ll never do that . . . what’s the big deal?’ Ok, I’m gonna post Toby’s first poo (I’m warning you in advance) cuz the excitement over that, I can tell you now, will be astronomical!! I will make up a new dance and dance it all day. And, of course, show all of you (hi, momma) the pic of the poo!! But he has, maybe, one wet accident every 3-5 days . . . usually my error . . . I tend to drift off into my own world and forget minor things like having T potty in the toilet . . .and he doesn’t tell me yet that he has to go. He does hold it pretty well though.

Ok, I’m really over and done with the discussion of potty training.

I understand Eugene, where all of my friends and family live, got several inches of snow. We’re at the same elevation (if not higher) and we are only 50 miles away and, yeah, NO SNOW here!! Ice but no snow. Grrble! Would of made the cold almost worth it to see my boys play in the snow. I’m sure T doesn’t remember last year’s snow, so it would of been like the first time . . . Sam’s as well. Would’ve been fun. Maybe later in the week.

But on that note I had to get out into the cold weather today. The boys had been holed up in the house for 2 days and I would rather brave the cold than remain in the nice warm house with two rampant toddlers. So we trudged out to the playground. Everything was wet and the wind was blowing a cold wind. I don’t know what temperature it was but with the wind I bet it went below freezing. It only hardened my heart that much more for the cold of winter. I gotta find some cheap indoor playgrounds!

If you weren’t aware our van doesn’t work right now, that’s why I’m home so much. If it were warmer than 40 degrees during the day (and not raining) I would load them up in my trusty double stroller and walk many miles, but until it warms up without the rain involved, I’m home. Yay for me!

Wow, day of the babbling Stacy. I think I’ll let you all go. I’m done for now. Love ya momma!

God Bless!

I’m positive, at times.  I feel the need to balance the natural, born with it, negativity with a little forced positive attitude.

It’s been sunny, for 3 days! Wowy zowy! And I have to admit, as much as me dislike the cold, me like the sun.  And I found, even if its approximately 20 degrees, if you stand in the sun you warm to about 25 degrees.  I thank God for the North Face coat my husband bought me 4 years ago . . . it’s getting more use this year than any other year!  It’s full of body-warming down, it is! Doesn’t matter that I resemble the Michellen Man . . . I’m warm, dangit.  This coat is coupled with a long sleeve shirt and a fleece sweatshirt . . . oh yeah, and my wooly boots (wool on the inside, go half-way up my calf).  Yep, I still get cold but it’s bearable.

I read a blog the other day that went on and on about how much she loved the snow and the cold and how she loved to curl up in her down comforter and read a good book and . . . apparently never move from the down comforter . . . ever! Cuz once you do, you get cold.  And when ya got 2 toddlers running around and errands that have to be done and the crazy energizer dog that has to have at least a walk a day . . . you have to get out from under the down comforter.  Ope, and the hate of cold fills one’s soul yet again.

Boy, the positive didn’t last long, did it? Oops. I will end with this gorgeous shot of Tob after spending about 30 minutes outside.  Rosy cheeked.