Jack Quesadillas with Cranberry Salsa

Salsa:

1 Cup whole-berry cranberry sauce

1/4 Cup chopped fresh cilantro

2 tablespoons chopped green onion

1 tablespoon fresh lime juice

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

1 pear, cored and finely diced

1 jalapeno pepper, seeded and minced

combine and chill

Quesadillas:

1/4 Cup sliced green onions

1 Cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese

8 flour tortillas

2 Cups chopped cooked turkey

serve prepared quesadillas with Cranberry Salsa and sour cream

I look forward to these as much as I do Thanksgiving dinner itself!

P.S.

I walked out on the job this weekend. I announced that I was done being the mom.

"When will you be home?" one asked.

"I don't know."

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know, but if you get hungry fix yourselves something. If you need something done, do it."

I returned to a clean home and obedient, cheerful children.

I guess they didn't want to fire me . . .

too much job security.

Thankful to be dysfunctional again

So good to be back into a book that makes me turn out the lights after midnight and sneak "just a few pages" in the next morning before waking the children. I've warned my husband that this is a "forget to feed the kids" and maybe even a "forget to get dressed for the day" kind of book. Would someone mind calling the compassionate service leader and lining up a meal for my family -

Have you read an

"oops, I forgot to be an active member of society today"

book lately?

P.S. Is there anyone else on the face of the planet who had a difficult time getting through "Three Cups of Tea"? It was Three Cups of Long for me as Greg was a difficult personality for me to follow. While I was glad he was out helping the world I felt sorry for his wife and children. Being an active husband and father . . . now that's a great way to change the world. It's all about experiencing the adventure together.

Thankful for nights like this

Sitting among people

who worship differently from one another

but we are all united in the belief

that Jesus is our Redeemer

I'm thankful for a father

who isn't afraid to mix church and state.

Read about him HERE.

Thankful for Downtown

A quiet Saturday was begging for a little adventure so we made the 20 minute drive to downtown with no particular plans. The gray sky became veiled as we wound through the shadows of the tall buildings and soon we found ourselves at a Japanese market. The kids excitedly held up package after package asking their dad what each said. They loved his vast knowledge of such things. We thought it as good a day as any to introduce the children to sushi. It was a delight watching them pop a full piece into their little mouths in true sushi eating fashion. Nick's nostrils grew in great proportions as he chewed but he felt wonderfully triumphant as he swallowed the last of it. The big boys polished off every last piece.

We traveled on to a predominately hispanic part of town and bought the kids "street meat." Asada and barbacoa. After our seven year declared the asada to be hamburger he asked if the man serving it was speaking "Japan." We had a great talk about all the different languages that people speak. His eyes lit up when I suggested the possibility of him learning a language other than English someday.

We ended our adventure at papa's office. What a treat it was for the children to enter the darkened building and use the "special pass" to enter the elevator. They admired the new break room and the towering downtown construction visible from the huge windows. They each claimed a desk and we played secretary as day turned to dusk. The phones were ringing off the hook and there were millions of papers to be signed and shredded. The highlight of the workday . . . when Brandon received a carefully scrawled note that said "Sorry but you know that you are fired. Sorry abotit."

He hung it next to the family photo.

Thankful for the winds of change

I picked up a vat of salsa, a bushel of strawberries and a bag of corn chips the size of our youngest child. Oh, and I picked up one other thing. Wrinkle cream. It's going to change my life. It's going to make me fashionable, more refined, happier and probably more athletic.

Another welcome change . . .

our teenager hung the Christmas lights this year.

The past 12 years of parenting have finally paid off.

Thankful for the "No Thank You" portion

Five years ago my sweetheart and I were sitting in a restaurant in San Francisco across the table from an engaging couple. We were deep in conversation about gourmet cooking when I asked how they had gotten their children to eat such foods when they were young. They told us about the "No Thank You" portion. A small portion of dinner was served onto each plate and everyone at the table was expected to try it. After eating the minimal amount placed before them they were welcome to say "No Thank You" to a second, larger serving. They could be done. We thought this was wise and implemented it immediately upon our return to Utah.

Fast forward to last night: Tilapia over sauteed onions sprinkled with calamata olives, garlic and basil, topped off with sliced tomatoes, sea salt and pepper served with a side of baked brussel spouts with apples.

They asked for seconds. Well, maybe not on the brussel sprouts, but they loved the tilapia.

I'm thankful for little palates with a large repertoire.

So do it. Give the "No Thank You" portion a try.

Thankful for Support

My best friends' support when I'm in the middle of self imposed conflict, my husband's support when I'm navigating unchartered territory, the Sunday support of my pantyhose after too much Saturday night Sushi.

Once a month I surround myself with the support of strong, beautiful women. We come from different backgrounds, different religious beliefs, different home environments and yet we share a common thread that binds us together into one great force for good. Last night's subject: Perspective. We laughed, we shared, we lamented, we laughed some more. And then, because it is that "Thankful" time of year the conversation turned to gratitude and the blessings that come from raising a child with autism.

I listened in quiet reverence as each mother shared the good that has come to her. My eyes welled up to near overflowing before I quickly implemented my newfound "don't cry" skills. The spirit in the room was thick and powerful. The gratitude I felt was suffocating.

P e r s p e c t i v e

G r a t i t u d e

S u p p o r t

Thank Goodness for Inner Beauty

I was issued a new drivers license when we moved 9 years ago. In preparation I curled my bob under nice and tight, heavily starched my white, collared shirt and pulled my favorite red v-neck over the top. I put on a light coat of matching red lipstick, which was the first and only time I've worn it mind you, and loaded my babies into the car. At the Drivers License Division I stood with perfect posture and smiled for all I was worth when they snapped the picture.

Let me sum the outcome up with this recent comment from a girl working behind a counter at the mall: "You look way older in this picture than you do now."

So we moved a year ago and since I had the old school license with my social security number printed willy nilly across the front I decided it was as good a time as any to update. I wore my newly washed hair down, donned a sensible black v-neck, thew on a pair of earrings and smeared some carmex across my pale lips. I was going for understated this time.

The gal counted to three as she popped her bubble gum and the camera clicked. "Cute," she said as we both took a look at the finished product.

"One of my eyes looks a little bigger than the other one," I complained. "Will you take it again?"

"Fine. But only once more and we can't get this picture back again."

I agreed to her terms and again took my place in front of the aqua blue sheet. Snap.

Have you ever seen the movie "Goonies?" Remember the guy that lived locked up underground? Remember his skidiwampus eyes?

My new "understated" drivers license photo.

Thank you Mr. Dentist

for having video games in your waiting room

and for putting television screens in your ceiling

thank you for your patience with my 5 year old

and for treating my 12 year old like an adult

thanks to your assistant for accidently

knocking out my 10 year olds loose tooth

and thank you for giving him 2 tokens

to make up for it

but above all Doctor,

thank you for the cheery no cavity report -

it was a welcome change.

Happy Holidays,

Thankful for Family Night

Our seven year old burrows behind the cushions

our 12 year old is sprawled out claiming more than his share of realty

our 10 year old is belting out the hymn that he has chosen for the evening

our 5 year old bounces from one place to the next as I contemplate ADHD

my husband takes on the lofty assignment of helping her teach the lesson

we retire to the kitchen to enjoy hot peanut butter chocolate chip cookies

but with all the help from little hands we somehow forgot the baking soda

we move on to an activity that elicits tears

and yet I love these nights

surrounded by obedient children

intently listening to the spiritual message

as they break into interpretive dance

and artistic furniture rearranging.

Tis the Season to be Thankful

Today I'm thankful for "pick up where we left off" friends.

You know the type.

It's been a year since you've been in touch

and instead of politely asking how little Suzy Q is doing in school

you launch right into the immunization controversy

and you tackle that blurred line of what is a righteous desire

and what is not

you talk about cycles

and cravings

and money

and happiness

and every other random subject

that tickles your fancy at the moment

Thank goodness for low maintenance friends

you know that you love each other

and that's enough.

discovering

watching them discover life is so much better

than it ever was discovering it myself

If by chance I take the time

to read a few of my favorite blogs

before posting on my own

I lose all writing motivation.

I read quick wit,

intriguing thoughts

and accounts that are so vivid

I forget they are not my own.

I visited other blogs this morning.

the end.

Oh, and happy Friday the 13th.

Enjoy a scary movie with your sweetheart.

Imperfect Perfection

I made cookies with my 5 year old and her best friend today. They dutifully added the ingredients and stirred until we had a beautiful, butter yellow dough. I pulled out the cookie scoop and taught them how to form little rounds of sugary goodness. They tired of it quickly and headed off to play as I took on the role of little red hen. I filled the remainder of the cookie sheet with uniform balls, all perfectly spaced. That's when I noticed a 5 year olds attempt standing out like a sore thumb. It was half the size of the rest, and ill formed. It will burn, I told myself as I threw it back in the bowl.

I regretted it instantly.

It's a struggle to let a little ones work stand on its own. To let them feel successful in a job that seems half done and awkward to the adult world.

New Years Goal #342.

"All women become like their mothers.

That is their tragedy.

No man does. That's his."

Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest

Main Entry: quag·mire

Pronunciation: \ˈkwag-ˌmī(-ə)r, ˈkwäg-\

Function: noun

Date: circa 1576

: a difficult, precarious, or entrapping position

: predicament

He couldn't care less about the $350 underground fence

He eats socks and discards them on the back lawn

He piddles when strangers pet him

He chews up irreplaceable gifts

He jumps on people

He scares children

He chases joggers

He chases cars

He's hyper

He's goofy

He barks, a lot

Our neighbor yells at him to "shut up"

Not our tough guy neighbor, but our bishopric neighbor

I am the only one that walks him

I am the only one that feeds him

I am the only one who bathes him

I am the only one who picks up after him

but do you know what I hate the most?

The fact that we are in love with him.

Litter, Enlightenment and Zuri

This isn't a story about our environment, not the environment that Al Gore would have us thinking about anyway. It's a quick tale about a different sort of environment . . .

The day was sunny and warm, the sort of day that demanded an outing to the zoo with cousins. We were just minutes away from Zuri, the baby elephant when we pulled lazily up to the last four way stop and waited patiently for our light to turn green. Just then I saw a blue piece of trash fly out of the window next to me. I strained over Allie's seat to take a closer look. Yep. Sure enough, guy with window rolled down, arm hanging out, piece of blue garbage on asphalt below. My blood began to boil. I reached over to the controls, ready to roll down the window and let the gentleman know that he had not gone unnoticed. But something stopped me.

I calmed myself and took a closer look. A young man, sandy blonde hair, a larger build, snug in his uniform. He was driving an oversized work truck that had something about oil and gas painted happily down it's side, but the driver didn't look happy. He looked like he was doing the same job he'd been doing for the past 1200 days straight. He looked bored, saddened to be imprisoned in the small cab while a perfect autumn day was carelessly passing him by. I felt sad for him.

That's when it happened. I cared more about the individual than I did about the act. I noticed his face more than the meaningless flash of blue that had faded quietly from sight.

I committed then and there that things would be different moving forward. I wouldn't let people's actions define them, I'd let their inherent worth decide who they are.

November isn't too late for a new New Year's Resolution, right?

If you like "Where's Waldo"

then you'd love

"Where's Murphy's Mess"

in our leaf filled backyard

I like today

the CAT scan results are back and they are good

the speaking assignment is over and done

the Halloween decorations are down

we got an extra hour of sleep

the sun is shining

and my house is clean

OK, not really the last one,

but it's still a great day!