family life

Born on the 4th of July

My grandma was born on the 4th of July. There was a time in her early life when I believe she thought all of the hoopla was all a part of her celebration. And although I am largely patriotic and enjoy all of the red, white and blue, I can’t have a fourth of July without thinking about my grandma.

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My grandmother was a renaissance woman. And in memory of her this time of year, here’s a little about grandma… Early on in her life, there was no father figure around. And my great-grandmother (GG) took it upon herself to raise and provide for her three children. As soon as my grandmother was able, she also took on the responsibility to help, and she pretty much worked ever since. She wasn’t the type of grandma you imagine standing over the stove, stirring her secret sauce. In fact, she had a reputation for burning everything and GG did most of the cooking. My grandma was different, and perfect. At a young age she would collect left over cobs of corn from a mill to bring food home to her mother and siblings. She worked in a potato chip factory, in Detroit, MI. And she recalled that every once in a while a potato would come down the line at Lay’s that had missed the process, baked and seasoned; she shared, it was a real treat. Later she took a job at Vernor’s in Detroit. Eventually they had enough money and she and GG bought their own house. They were proud to have owned the deed to their own home, and by the time my grandpa came around, she was quite self sufficient.

Aunt Becky (my mother's sister), Grandma and my mother.

Aunt Becky (my mother’s sister), Grandma and my mother.

She gave great beauty tips: Never pull on the skin under your eye, it will give you wrinkles; Brush your hair upside down (over your head) to make your hair grow thick and longer; Tap your nails to make them stronger; Use caution ever putting oil on your face, it makes your pores big… but sometimes you should use a little vitamin E on it. She had great skin. She wore scarves in her hair, which she always died dark brown. She loved to be comfortable. She would cut, move, and tape any shoe, seat belt or shirt to be worn with more ease. She always carried breath mints and gum; which she chewed half of a piece at a time.

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When she was upset she would say “Oh beans,” and if she heard something shocking she would say “Good night;” except ‘good’ had two syllables. When she laughed hard she would throw her head back. She was adorable.

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My Grandma, kneeling with her girls along with my grandfather. ‘GG’ in the upper right.

She had an amazing garden. It was huge and productive. She canned her own green beans, tomatoes, along with other vegetables and the best grape jelly that I’m sorry you never got to taste. She could eat an onion like an apple. She was into trying to eat your vitamins through food, and taking vitamins… before it was a fad. She had a subscription to Prevention magazine. If she were around today I’m sure she’d be an advocate for eating organic and avoiding GMO’s.

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My grandma started every day with black coffee and fell asleep every night listening to tapes of someone reading Bible scriptures. She was extremely devoted to God, and His son, her personal Lord and Savior, Jesus. She sang hymns around the house. She had a big heart, and when her sister was unable to care for her children my grandma raised two nieces and a nephew as well as her own.

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Every year on the 4th of July we would celebrate her birthday, and as a child I would ask “How old are you grandma?” And every year her response was the same, “Twenty-nine.”

Grandma on the right, eating cake.

Grandma on the right, eating cake.

She would have been 29 today. ?

Have a happy and safe 4th of July!

Burnt Popcorn

My Grandma Curtis was a real pioneer. She was not a pioneer in the prairie way, it was more of an unconventional progressive way. My great-grandfather, whom I never met, was not around. My great-grandmother was a hard working self sufficient mother of three and, as the story goes, better off without him. (However, they never got a divorce or married another, and I believe she truly loved my great-grandfather). Now, my grandma got her can do spirit from her mother I’m sure. And she worked very hard to provide for herself and eventually her mother. For, she said, “their hearts beat as one.”

All of this independence and achievement, however, left very little time in the kitchen. She wasn’t the type of grandma to have freshly baked cookies in the oven or to pass on her secret recipe on how to make- anything. Regardless, I have very fond memories of sitting at her kitchen table and talking with her (mostly about Jesus) over perfectly sweet homemade grape jelly and burnt toast. Actually, she was notorious, in our family, for burning everything she cooked. Whether it was toast, popcorn or pecan pie, grandma had a way of slightly blackening everything. And perhaps it truly is my love for my grandmother and the precious time she spent with me, but I liked it!

In fact, even now, I prefer my popcorn burnt. I know most people think it’s gross. Yes, it stinks up the whole house. (Ideally, I should do it on a beautiful day so I can open the windows.) But, I can’t help it. It’s right up there with the crispy cheese corner of lasagna and the sticky charred sauce on BBQ grilled chicken.

Happy Father’s Day

I have a great dad. Let’s face it, I’m a daddy’s girl. I always have been. My dad is the best coach, cheerleader and teammate ever; as in “I’ll teach you everything I know. I’m proud of you. And we’re in this together, you are not alone.” He is very patient, extremely generous and a great listener. He has been a great example of a husband and father. I could get really choked up talking about my dad. God has blessed me greatly. He is also the best to cook for. He’ll try anything. 

Now I think my husband is a great father. But he’s not my dad… So from the horses’ (or kid’s) mouth’s;

(BTW getting an interview out of them is like pulling teeth)…

Naomi, our 4 year old says “He’s sweet and kind. He’s a good dad. He is my twin.”

Isaiah, age 9, says “He’s very nice.” Really. That’s all I could get out of him.

Elijah is two, he said “He plays with us. I took my shoes off. God loves daddy.”

Noah, the baby, was sleeping so I could jot this down. Of course if he could talk, I’m sure he’d say something deeply profound.

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Steve is Owen’s dad. He’s pensive, dependable and loyal. He’s always willing to help. He loves his children and grandchildren, all nine of them! Many people have issues with their in-laws, not me; he is a great father-in-law.
Happy Father’s Day to all the dads!

Reality

It has been brought to my attention that there may not be enough drama on my blog. Somehow this has equated to being not relate-able. You want a little more reality? Here it is…
My throat hurts, bad; like on fire! I’m pretty sure I was running a fever last night, I know I had the chills. If I had a job that required attendance by employer, I would call in sick. But I’m a mom. I don’t have that option. My arm feels like it’s going to fall off. My infant has a crazy skin rash condition. It makes him want to scratch his face off and remove both of his ears. He has to be under constant surveillance, usually held in restraint. I should have biceps like Angela Bassett.

My two year old is never full. He is constantly asking for snacks. He’s hungry after he eats breakfast. (And I mean a breakfast that would fill you). I make him wait an hour, full of begging mind you, until I let him have a yogurt. And then he’ll ask for a snack. I’m not kidding this is my day. He also poops as much as he eats, which means I ask my four year old daughter to watch the baby (to keep him from removing his cheeks) while I change at least 4-5 poopy diapers, on a child who by most standards should be potty trained. (This doesn’t include his wet ones or any of his brother’s.)

My infant who is now 7 months old, still doesn’t sleep through the night, so neither do I. I’m exhausted! And every time we take him out people stare at him like he’s a freak. Honestly, you should have seen him two months ago! We have taken him to over a dozen doctors, including the University of Michigan, Motts and Children’s Hospital in Detroit. I’ve had my fill of suggestions and unsolicited advice. (Actually if you had a good idea, I’d consider it. Don’t mind me right now.) I’m tired of explaining the situation at the grocery store. And because I’m a mom, I still have guilt, so I rationalize with things like “at least they see the other kids look ok, so I hope they don’t think we are totally neglectful.” He’s drinking goat’s milk now, so I get to carry another bag around to keep it chilled. Awesome.

My third grader learned more about anatomy and life from friends this year than I think I knew in high school. Thank you parents for being so open with your kids! Could you ask them not to share until the other kids parents are ready to talk to their own children? My kids don’t believe in Santa, I’ve asked them not to tell your kids. (I believe I do owe an apology to one family member that comes to mind, very sorry.)

Talking about food on a blog makes me think about food more. I also want to try more food when I’m out for inspiration on new recipes. I can see this wreaking havoc on the waistline. I’m certain that’s why I read so much about fennel greens topped with lemon juice and fitbits. I get it, but I’m not there, yet. That’s not how my family eats. Am I frustrated that my pants are tight? Absolutely. And I’d like to have a doughnut, please.

I don’t like the #hashtag #game. I’d rather #read an #article than all of your score signs. But I suppose that’s how to #getahead in the #blog world? Hey #mommybloggers #nominate @sadiesnest for #keepingitreal

My husband is great in the supporting department. He’s a great dad. Just know while he’s making ‘dude perfect’ videos, I’m making dinner or cleaning it up, or catching up on dishes and laundry, it’s a vicious cycle. But that’s okay, because they come with my husband and kids… and I love my family!

Well I hope you enjoyed my venting session, free of charge. Is this relate-able? The truth is I love my happy blog. I take every picture, write every story and make every recipe (unless credited otherwise), so it’s very real to me… Except it’s a wonderful distraction from my reality.