Ain't Like Moma Fixed It

I can cook many things in mediocre fashion.  I can cook a few things that are great.  And I can make cake balls that will make you weak in the knees.  Besides that, you're outta luck.

One thing I do particularly well is homemade chicken and egg noodles.  TJ loves them and they typically don the table when he is having a rough week or I just want him to know I love him like crazy.  I learned how to make them from my moma.  Enter the problem.  She makes them phenomenally.  We were dropping Faith off a few weeks ago to go out on a date and my mom had made them for dinner.  For them.  Not us.  Not the ones going to dinner in the big town.  But there TJ stood over the pot on the stove shoveling them down the hatch.  I thought he might go for the big O right there he was making such a huge deal about them.  Ooooohing and ahhhing and whispering sweet nothings in their proverbial noodle ears.  Then he walked back into the living room, looked me straight in the eye and told me, "Yours are good, but... these are....gosh....amazing."

I know, TJ.  I KNOW.  My mom can do the tango with her kitchen and score a 10 from Bruno, Carrie Ann, and Len.  That's why I get up at the crack of dawn on Saturdays to go to the WW.

I would type out the recipe, but just save yourself the effort and get a bag of Reames because they won't be as good. They just won't.  Food cooked by my moms always tastes a zillionty times better.
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In other news, my baby turned 3 last month.  We were planning on having a small friend party and a small family party but the stomach virus turned our world upside down and we ended up at Andy Alligators for our family party and when everyone got better we had the princess party at our house with her friends.  Just a few pictures to show you how much we wish each of you could've been there.

Birthday guhl

Two of Faith's favorites- Aunt Sarah because she's "silly Auntie Sarah."  Uncle John because, well, he's just amazing.  He and Faith are birthday buddies and they just have a super special bond. 

 My daddy and Sarah. My mom was home puking her guts out because she comes to watch our child even when we're all sick.  I love that woman. And her egg noodles. 

 My dad playing Whack-A-Mole.  There were 6 moles.  He has 6 kids.  

You do the math.  He was pounding those things with a fury. Ha! 

 My dad on the bumper cars.  I seriously never thought I would see the day.  If you know my dad, you totally understand.  

It's blurry, but its amazing.  The looks on their faces sums up exactly how they felt.  Elijah wasn't digging it, Brayden loved every minute of it.

"I'm free now."

Preach the Word, Sister

Last night at dinner Faith prayed.

"God, we just thank you for our food.  And we just ask you to bless our house with calmness."  

Can I get an AAAAAAMEN from the choir? Can I get an AAAAAAMEN from the congregation?  Can I get an AAAAAAMEN from the preacher?



(That, my friends, was a direct quote.  Not paraphrased and not jazzed up for the blog.  And I've asked everyone who prays with her and none of us have ever prayed that with her.  Just comin' straight from the heart. Ya know, from the main contributor of our house craziness.)



Watch it, Satan. We got yo' numba!

Day One on January 2nd

Today when I got home from working Faith was crying hysterically.  Fake crying, mind you.   But she had me fooled.  I rushed into the room to see what was broken or bleeding and found her sitting on the bed crying beside a Daddy who had had enough of it.   She was laying it on thick- snot, tears, the whole nine- in a futile attempt to get out of the nap she (obviously) still needs.  Daddy explained the whole situation and I tried to talk with her, but it was no use.  She wasn’t buying it.

If you backtrack one blog post, you’ll see that I said I’m going to be thankful for each day with my child, even the not-fun days, so I scooped her up and took her to her room.  I grabbed one of her favorite books and started reading, completely ignoring the fact that she was still sobbing and snotting all over the place.  As I read, she calmed down.  Until the last page, when she realized she needed to take a final stance to see if she could get her way.  But this moma has a secret weapon in her arsenal- Faith’s kryptonite, if you will.  The gift of song.  I sang to her.  Old children’s church songs, hymns and praise music until she drifted off to sleep cuddling my arm around her.  

I sat there thinking “Amanda. This is a big moment for you.  The moment you decided to see good instead of bad, positive instead of negative. “  I starting thanking God for giving me this moment- the whole scenario.  From the moment I walked in the door and heard the cries to the very minute I found myself in.  God had given me the opportunity to choose the good, the positive. And I FINALLY took it.  Thank you God for continually giving me redos.  As I was praying Faith started coughing pretty badly.  She turned around, grabbed my face, and sleeptalked, “Sing me nother song, Moma.”  And so I did.

God is so good.

God is so good.

God is so good,

He’s so good to me.

He answers prayers.

He answers prayers.

He answers prayers.

He’s so good to me.