Sunday, January 30, 2011

My Dad's Yummy Chicken Recipe- No measurements required

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees

Chicken Thighs (skin and bones makes it juicy)
Purple onion (quartered)
Butter Golden Potatoes (chopped do desired size)
Carrots (regular or baby)
1 bottle of Zesty Italian Dressing

Toss it all in a baking dish

Bake for 2 hours
Season to taste (Tony's, Italian seasoning, etc).

This is something my dad made up and it is so so yummy (hence the clever title). I finally decided to try it at our house (so the picture is all the ingredients mixed together and ready to marinate over night)

I'm not a big finger-licker when it comes to my meal choices, but this one is finger-licking good! It's a hit for everyone in our family (including the Mr. Picky John Paul, himself). Enojoy!!

Friday, January 28, 2011

A dose of laughter for you ... and humility for me.

My sweet friend invited me to a little something called "Jazzy Ladies." We were at a meeting when she invited me, and I was in the middle of filling out something, so all I heard was that it was called that. I told her yes, was so grateful, and arranged for childcare (David :).

As I drove to Jazzy ladies, I was on the phone with a friend and told her how excited I was for this Jazz class, and how I had just watched the movie Chicago and was ready to dance, and that I was wearing double braids and leggings (which I LOVE because I feel ready to move around in them) and my favorite cap (I sound like so much fun to talk to, don't I?).

I arrived to the Country Club (odd for a dance class, right?) and saw two friends upon arriving. The conversation went something like this:
Kate: hey, [friend's name], you look nice.
Friend 1: yeah I'm going to a brunch, what are you doing?
Kate: I'm meeting my friend [friend's name] for a class... Jazzy ladies, do you know where I go?
Friend 2: We're meeting her, too, but it's not a class. It's a Jazz brunch with a King Cake demonstration.
Kate: Oh, well... I'm dressed for a jazz class, that's nice.
Friend 2: Yeah, I think it's a nice brunch (merited comment, I looked like I just woke up, and we were at the country club).

That's right. I assumed with the title "Jazzy Ladies" that I was about to get the new version of jazzercise... at the Country Club. Am I an idiot?!?! Did it ever occur to me to ask her WHAT IT WAS?!?!?!

I laughed all the way to car (assuming that I wasn't coming back) and called the same friend whom I just spoken with. She told me that I needed to go home and change and get back there. I'm so glad I listened! It was a FABULOUS brunch with a king cake demonstration from a friend's mom, and I can't wait to try it out myself.

Interesting side note: in confession yesterday, my penance was the Litany of Humility, which I hadn't found in card form in my house... so I guess God was allowing me to live the lesson of humility instead. Funny, Lord, funny. Enjoy the weekend, everyone. And thank you sweet friend for inviting me!

Sunday, January 23, 2011

More pictures from the "Holy"days

Thanks, Sista Sarah for the great pictures, I will now use them to show off my family! You might also notice that there are NO Dawson pictures... it's one of the differences between our two families. On one side there is a camera in everyone's hand... the other side has one camera between all of us and the batteries aren't charged. I am so in love with both sides.

My sweet John Paul

A dream of my mothers is to have the perfect picture with her grandbabies... it has yet to happen.

Sweet Madeline Claire

Anna Kate... I know.

The Darbonne family

"This is my daughter... right here"

Me and my sweet love

Yes, he had to crouch down like a sorority girl to get down to my height. What a man!

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Sweet Freedom... for John Paul

John Paul has learned (after 2 1/2 years) to climb out of bed. He appeared in the living room with a beautiful smile and stance of accomplishment as he said, "Heeeey Mama!" I was speechless, and the amount of time it took to respond in combination with the look on my face made John Paul's precious face of joy turn to confusion and sadness (as evidenced by "the lip."

That was a few days ago and we've had a roller coaster of a spanking (or two), bribes, rewards, hugs, tears, sleep- thank you God- and anxiety.

Our next move? A twin bed. It's time. I feel like I might as well give him the keys. I feel like he's ready to move out. You can laugh at me. Everybody else has.

Hear that? That's sound of my heart breaking. Good thing he's not potty trained yet or I would be a mess. There's always Therese, my sweet BABY girl... and the 10 others I still expect to have.

Monday, January 3, 2011

Shall I paint a bedtime picture for you?

Tonight was one of the frequent nights that David is working (not complaining, just sayin'). I was attempting to nurse Therese to sleep in her quiet dark room with her fan going, and just a small crack in the door for a little light to see my way out. It begins (this is every night, and I'm just not sure how to change things). As I begin singing/praying with Therese, in comes John Paul dressed for bed including his Thomas slippers holding 2 play swords (actually, one is a play sword and the other is a blow-up giant hot dog). He proceeds to fight the aggressive imaginary enemy with his swords, which involves him sliding onto his knees to escape the mortal jabs of said enemy. [are you picturing it yet- it's dark, remember?] Therese is in love with her brother and begins to toss herself back and forth between watching and laughing at John Paul and flailing herself back towards me (which includes a large, loud hand slap to my chest as she latches back on- EVERY TIME. I am unable to do anything to change John Paul's behavior except begin the litany of "John Paul, go in the play room. Hush. Therese is trying to nurse. SHHH. Be quiet for Therese. Stop poking her. Stop poking me.Go in the play room. Don't you tell me no. Go to your room. Hush. Get back in your room." All the while I am trying to continue singing because (gets graphic here for any men reading) I have to sing in order get my milk to let down because I'm drying up against my will. This is what happens each night that David is working evenings. Good Night, indeed!