Embryo screening, selective breeding, and playing God.

Recently ABC ran this story on embryo screening for breast cancer.

I wish we lived in a world without breast cancer. I wish we lived in a world
without any disease at all. It's a tragic reminder that we no longer live in Eden;
broken, genetically disordered, flawed, failing, flat-lining...

Mortal bodies with immortal souls. If you believe in that sort of thing.
HOPE, but still sad for so many of us suffering, watching those we love suffer,
losing the battle too big, so many pieces, slipping through our hands. This is not the end.


Katie Moisse for ABC writes, "Breast cancer is the latest disease being bred out of families through
preimplantation genetic diagnosis – an embryo screening test once reserved for fatal genetic disorders."

Here we are talking about in vitro-fertilization; which is a whole moral theology can of worms on its
own. The most startling, to-be-discussed issue here, in the case of breast cancer screening, is that
the defected ones are discarded, thrown away, in favor of more SUPERIOR embryos.

Some are thanking their Jesus for "modern medicine" while others are scratching their heads
wondering if we are pushing ethical boundaries. Let me clarify, I am NOT scratching my head,
but screaming inside and all over my blog now. Lucky you.

Is it just me or does it seem that Nazi, Germany has come to America in high fashion?
The red carpet has been rolled out, and ladies and gentleman, our country seems to be applauding
the fact that we can "GET RID" of the mutants to allow a stronger specimen to live.
It could just be me.

The truth is, they cannot be 100% sure. And even if they are SURE, that a test tube baby
is positively carrying for breast cancer, who is to say that child does not want to live?
Or how long it is going to live? They don't know how many GOOD years, "quality" years, of
happiness and health there will be before the inevitable... death.

We are ALL dying. Today I am 26 years old, and should I die tomorrow from some genetic
disorder that could have been avoided with preimplantation genetic diagnosis, I'm thankful
for the time I DID have... the full life I have lived.

If there is someone out there who wishes their loved one who died from breast cancer
had never been born to suffer at some point in their life - can they please come forward?
This just does not make sense to me. I've lost loved ones from various illnesses - and
I know that I am grateful for EVERY second I had with them.

I believe we walk on thin ice when it comes to playing God.

I understand that suffering is hard. And that is coming from one who does not suffer well.
I run a fever and I call my mother to come hold me. But don't you think we should let life take
its NATURAL course, unfolding the beauty of people and the gifts they have to contribute
to the world... no matter what their genetic code prophesies?

When it feels like God doesn't want you...

Sometimes I fear that I do NOT trust God enough to spend time with Him.
As if taking time out of my day, my routine, my plans to commune with the God
who holds not just the whole world, but my world, in His hands is going to hurt me.

He's omnipotent, all powerful - and I'm all like, "Yea, whatever."
Not out of stereotypical teenage disrespect, but as a skeptic's challenge:
"For real? Are you sure?"

"Now as they went on their way, he entered a village; and a woman named Martha
received him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's
feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving; and she went
to him and said, 'Lord, do you now care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her
then to help me.' But the Lord answered her, 'Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled
about many things; one thing is needful. Mary has chose the good portion,
which shall not be taken away from her.'" - Luke 10:38-42
Note: Jesus said her name TWO times - "Martha, Martha..." He means business, missy.

Like Martha I find myself running in circles, anxious, busy-busy-busy doing all
the things, but the one thing that brings joy and peace into my life: communion.

It usually doesn't turn out too well either.

Patience unwinding like a hellish bobbin, anxiety moving from the back burner
to stage front, words - unguarded, unchecked - bubbling over from unresolved issues,
fear, scars from wounds I thought were healed. The soul can be a real hot mess.

So often I know that I claim to be doing things for the Kingdom - sincerely intending
to get it right, for God and all. But the truth is, how can I be so sure I am doing
His work when I don't trust Him enough to even stop and ask Him?

Hands down, my worst fear - it's not a plane full of snakes or the idea of being
stuck in a bathtub full of human hair - it's fearing that after all of this, this whole
life deal, I'm going to die and one of two things is going to happen...

1.) God doesn't want me.

2.) It was all a big joke.

Just because I'm a Christian does not mean I have my whole Jesus act together.
Every day is a work in progress. Getting over myself to get into Him. It's messy,
tearful, raw - not exactly Sunday school on the lawn or the high of being freshly
lathered in the chrism oil of confirmation. You guys, it's ugly.

An unending process of being broken, humbled, mortified, refined,
picked up again, and blown into a beautiful new creation of a vessel.
And why, why, why in the world would God care to take the time to work
with something so undone, obnoxiously full of herself, and spinning out of control?

Like a good Christian puppet I'll say, "LOVE." And like the human I am, I'll say "LOVE"
100x's tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that - over and over again to let the words
sink into my brain and drain into my heart.

"She chose the good portion..."

And that's the key: CHOOSING- every moment of every day to give to God -
having the trust, the courage to meet Him in prayer, communion, and fully believe
with all my heart: "I AM WANTED. THIS IS NO JOKE."

I am loved. We are loved. Nothing to laugh about there.

Quinoa Crepes

We have this little tradition. It's called Hobbit Breakfast.
Every Sunday after Church we come home and cook up a warm, hearty "second breakfast."
It's become so popular with my kids that they discuss the details throughout Mass.
I'll get an "attempted whisper" - usually accompanied with splattering saliva in my ear
while trying to pray, in pew, "Are we having pancakes or eggs today, momma?!
And and and be-cwuz I wuv sy-wup - we need sy-wup."

It's all baking, frying, flipping, sizzling, and uncontrollable drizzling of the maple
syrup when we get home. It's cozy. Reminds me of "home." As the world should be.


|| QUINOA CREPES ||
gluten free, grain free, dairy free

1 C. quinoa flour
2 eggs
1/4 tsp. sea salt
1 C. water or non-dairy milk
1 tbls. sunflower oil

Whisk ingredients together until smooth. Crepe batter should be runny.
You may have to add another 1/4-1/2 cup of water or non-dairy milk to reach
the desired consistency.

Heat 2-3 tbls. of sunflower oil in skillet. Pour in 1/2 c. of batter - tilting the pan
in a circular motion to allow the batter to spread out. Think thin.

These take about 2-3 minutes on each side. We like ours on the crispy side, so we usually
let them go for a few minutes longer. Add more oil to pan as needed with each new crepe.

Fill 'em up, wrap 'em up, devour like a true citizen of The Shire.

Yields 4-5 crepes.

Polygamy: but aren't we created monogamous?

I need to say, I am in love with the Kody Brown family - four wives and all.
If I saw them in public, I would run up and beg to be their friend. For real. #crazyfan
I commend them for having the courage to step out and talk about what they believe and practice.
It's lighting a fire under my own butt for sure. I think we all can be encouraged by this bonfire.


// image
Let me clue you in: Kody Brown and his four wives + 17 children are the TLC stars of the reality
series: SISTER WIVES. The show came up as a recommendation for me on Netflix. It's scary how
well Netflix knows us, huh!? I devoured season 1, 2, 3 & 4 - and now I'm seriously contemplating
buying the next few seasons off Amazon because Netflix may be good, but they are slow.

I told my husband one night that it was seriously scaring me how "tolerant" I felt towards
the idea of polygamy. Not for me, OH NO, but for others - if they wanted that "lifestyle".

FUN FACT: polygamy is mainly practiced by the FUNDAMENTALIST CHURCH OF JESUS
CHRIST OF LATTER DAY SAINTS. These are NOT the mainstream Mormons that come
knocking on your door. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints gave up
the practice more than 120 years ago.

I'll be almost asleep at night and then blurt out something like,
"I couldn't handle sister wives - I think we are innately monogamous!"

To which my husband will sleepily respond, "That's good. But if you decide to
'take another HUSBAND' can you make sure he's a doctor or something so he can help pay
some of our bills?!" And I'll bite the bait and start explaining polygamy vs. polyandry...
to my husband's great amusement. It's all arm punches and wedgies from there.

From a very female, human perspective - the idea of being one of many wives is repulsive.
It all sounds so suppressive. Put away your natural feelings of jealousy and desire for your husband
and "get better" - "get holier" by practicing sharing, letting go, and loving your husband AND
your sister wives. The whole idea of "celestial marriage" really seems to be a great plan to
earn favor with God and some beachfront property in heaven. Twiiiiiisted.

But I'm sure some of you see me the same way as a Catholic - fasting, confessing to a "priest",
holy days of obligation, laps around the rosary... I'll give room for perspective.

Just saying, you all can visit me in my heavenly villa by the sea. That's a joke.


// image
In general, they say that 50% of marriages end in divorce, and from there...

"The American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers, polled 350 divorce attorneys in 2003 where
two thirds of them reported that the Internet played a significant role in the divorces,
with excessive interest in online porn contributing to more than half such cases.
It is believed that 68 percent of divorce cases involved one party meeting a new paramour
over the Internet, 56 percent involved 'one party having an obsessive interest in pornographic websites,' 47 percent involved 'spending excessive time on the computer,' and 33 percent
involved spending excessive time in chat rooms (a commonly sexualized forum). (1)
I guess my point: people get DIVORCED over feeling betrayed...
over the idea of sharing their spouse with someone else - emotionally or physically.

Created monogamous are we?

"But for Adam, no suitable helper (NOT plural) was found. So the Lord God caused the man to
fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man’s ribs and then closed up
the place with flesh. Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man,
and he brought her to the man.

The man said,

'This is now bone of my bones
and flesh of my flesh;
she shall be called ‘woman,’
for she was taken out of man.'

That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife (NOT wives),
and they become one flesh. Adam and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame."
- Genesis 2:20-25
I've heard the Browns argue their "lifestyle" from Scripture saying that because some of the
great patriarchs and prophets, Abraham, Moses, and King David - to name a few, took multiple
wives and were OBVIOUSLY used to establish the lineage of Jesus and usher in the Kingdom of God
then POLYGAMY MUST BE OK. I mean King David, a man after God's own heart, was doing it...
with her and her and her...

It just seems that the whole thing contradicts Genesis - the whole creation story.
One man for one woman - an ORIGINAL GOODNESS, an ORIGINAL PLAN. After the fall,
many things became tainted and men turned from God committing all kinds of sins.

"Jesus replied, 'Moses permitted you to divorce your wives because your hearts were hard.
But it was not this way from the beginning.'" - Matthew 19:8
Just because things were done in the Bible does not mean they were
intended, holy, or part of God's plan for His people.

"However polygamy is not in accord with the moral law. Conjugal communion is radically
contradicted by polygamy; this, in fact, directly negates the plan of God which was
revealed in the beginning, because it is contrary to equal person dignity of men
and women who in matrimony give themselves with a love that total and therefore
unique and exclusive." - Catechism of the Catholic Church 2387
So what would Jesus do with polygamists? You tell me.

Obviously this post is a tad on the "Jesus-y" side, but the Brown family claims to be
Christian - so I'm meeting them where they at. I don't wish to impose my religious beliefs on
individuals as I believe that is contradictory to the Gospel any way, but I do wish to talk about it.

Do you think in the name of "RELIGIOUS FREEDOM" bigamy should be made
legal in the U.S.? Why or why not? Brave souls, talk to me.






(1) Jill Manning, Senate Testimony, November 10, 2005, referencing: J. Dedmon,
“Is the Internet bad for your marriage? Online affairs, pornographic sites playing
greater role in divorces,” 2002, press release from American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers

Childrenisms

Sometimes I get confused and wonder if I signed up for PARENTHOOD or MILITARY TRAINING.
Let's start with sleep deprivation. Yea. Usually accompanied with spontaneous
screaming and demands to bounce, sway, rock, sing ALL AT THE SAME.
With eyes glazed over, you better stay AWAKE!

Occasional starvation periods.
Those times when it's either "feed them" or "feed myself", you know?
Sometimes I wish I had MREs too.

Public outings. Try being as stealth as possible with two, three, four toddlers in tow.
Oh we WANT to be stealth, but sometimes you have to roll with the operation:
kid going overboard - out of cart, running down aisle, hooting and hollering like
they've never left the house before. Retrieve said toddler. Mission accomplished.
But not really. It's never fully accomplished. They run these drills on repeat!

And then there are the mind games. They tell you that they want something and then cry
when you give it to them. Or they cry and say "no" to every effort to help.
Or they say they want the red popsicle, but when you bring the RED popsicle -
they all of a sudden remember they want the BLUE popsicle...
and Lord, help us all!

If you stick to your guns and make them eat the RED one - there's a 50/50 chance
that they will either cry through the whole thing or make YOU suffer from the sugar rush.
Either or. It's not good. I dub us all "Captain Parent of the Year".

Nathan: "Dude, what are you eating?!"
Judah: "Ants."
Nathan: "For real, Judah?"
Judah: "I wuv ants."
We will never know.


Me: "Judah, staaaaaay on the rug with your boots!"
Judah: *gallivanting OFF the rug*
Me: "How many times do I have to repeat myself?!"
Judah: "How many times do I have to PEE myself?!"
Me: "Repeat."
Isaiah: "You make her pee herself, Judah!"
Judah: "Yea yea yea... pee herself!!!"
Isaiah: "Momma pees herself!"
Judah: "How many times do I have to peeeee myself?! BAHAHAHA!"
Me:


The other day I actually HID from my children to eat my lunch in peace.
I was hunkered down on the side of my bed - praying that I had deterred the enemy.
I just needed 5 minutes to NOT SHARE my food. It gets better. When Isaiah and Judah did find me,
I then hid my FOOD under the bed and fielded their questions with lies...

Isaiah: "What are you doing, momma?"
Judah: "Yea, she's hiiiiiiding!!!"
Momma: "I'm having QUIET TIME."
Isaiah: "Are you eating in here?"
Momma: "Not anymore."
Isaiah: "Food stays in the kitchen."
Don't you love it when your kids repeat such gems of wisdom back in your face?!


Isaiah: "Dad, there's something brown under the table."
Nathan: "Don't eat it. It might be poop."
Like that never happens in our house.


Isaiah: "We're going to the craft store!"
Judah: "Crap store?"
Me: "Hobby Lobby, buddy. The crrrraaaaaft store."
Judah: "Oh, I wuv crap stores."
Isaiah: "Craft store, Judah."
Judah: "I wuv crap."
Me:"Crrrrraaaaaft."
Judah:"Oh craaaaaap."


Nathan: "Buddy, you can't hurt your brother."
Isaiah:
Nathan: "Do you understand?"
Isaiah: *eyes fixed, jaw clinched*
Nathan: "Buddy?"
Isaiah: "ROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR!"
Nathan: "That's scary, dude."
Isaiah: "I'm a dragon, blowing fire. I'm burning yooooooou!!!!"
Nathan:

Me: "Eat your lunch, Judah."
Judah: "My name is NOT Judah."
Me: "Yes it is."
Judah: "Don't call me JUUUUUUDAH!"
Me: "What should I call you?"
Judah: "Puss. In. Boots."

Raising William Wallace in a Justin Bieber World

This post is not only going to age me, but it is also going to define me as the "crazy-mom-lady"
who probably needs to get with the program. Or not. To say that I am concerned about the
ever-increasing God-less behavior that is being reported, complete with graphic details on how to
twerk Robin Thicke or deliver some catchy rhymes all about "the right-wing conservatives think it's
a decision // and you can be cured with some treatment and religion // man-made, rewiring of a
pre-disposition // playing God", is an understatement. A war cry from the enemy.
And what do the people do?

They cry, cheer, stand, applaud, record, write, publish - SHARE the news and raise hell for
those "right wing conservatives", or anyone else for that matter, who hasn't gotten on board
the sinking ship of relativism. They act like brainwashing tastes good.

As a Catholic-Christian living in the 21st century, I feel more pushed and cornered than
ever before to nod my head, smile, embrace, and pretend like everyone and their "lifestyles"
and choices are ok. The flippancy with which the general public treats what once was labeled "sin"
is disturbing. But what sin is to me is not sin to you, and my God is not your God - even if He does
happen to exist - so you're ok and I'm ok. And I am obviously blinded and/or misled by righteous,
religious leaders who see me as Jesus' little lamb - weak, docile, voiceless, freak.

I assure you, if that's what you think I am, you are the blinded one.

Now that we are raising kids in this Justin Bieber world - a world full of seemingly non-affirmed
children pretending to be grown-ups, promoting childish behavior, glamorizing everything from sexual
promiscuity to drug abuse, stepping away from God and morals in general like it's the cool thing to do -
I am thinking twice about what I want my kids exposed to.


People laugh when men and father-figures are portrayed as stupid, ignorant, checked out -
remote control loving and thriving from the recliner. Some sterilized, withdrawn, most likely
depressed with an "I don't care" attitude - feminized, voiceless... I for one want to hear them
ROAR.

People love it when women "own their bodies" - free, radiant, liberated by throwing toxic hormones
(FACT: contraception is a class 1 carcinogen) at themselves every month or by getting in line at the local abortion clinic, playing it classy or raunchy, whatever they prefer, in the name of "women's rights."

People are thrilled that their children are being sexually educated earlier than ever before -
freeing them from the prudish, puritan beliefs of their forefathers. "Save sex for marriage!"
was for your grandma, gosh darn it. Normal, healthy, acceptable. P R O P A G A N D A.

A society that blatantly supports the break down of men, women, and children -
applauding the lack of formation, the quest for eternal childhood, and destruction of
the conscience, all things holy and pure - thus resulting in the ultimate breakdown of the family.

Mainstream society is rooting for ya. Drinks all around.

Now, as disappointing as this may be to you, we will not be moving underground.
I will not be wearing jean jumpers and my husband isn't going to be the leader of our "home Church".

Where is William Wallace when you need him?! I demand to know where the warriors have gone.
Can you imagine the look on Braveheart's face if we handed him an army of Justin Biebers and
One Direction-ers?!?! The only thing most modernists are interested in doing is painting their
faces blue and getting stone drunk at the next big game. Am I the only one concerned?

Where are the great poets, thinkers, inventors, fighters, preachers, saints, and lovers today?
I can tell you this, I'm raising them. And I hope you are too. I hope you are seeing the reality
of our culture for what it is and not settling for the cliche, "times have changed."

Hide your children and your wives?! No, PREPARE your children, your wives, and husbands too.
When the war cry of the enemy is heard, please oh please let there be enough brave hearts to
retaliate with thunderous majesty: "FREEEEDOM!"

I encourage you take a step back and really think about the current situation.
This may be a hard one, but...

TEAM WILLIAM WALLACE or TEAM JUSTIN BIEBER?

image credit

My point exactly.

Project || Little Valentines

I used PicMonkey to add "words" to pictures of the kids to share with family and friendsthis year!!! Printed them off "wallet-size" (2X3's) - and I just love how they came out!!!

finger painted hearts // chocolates // cute picturesAll carefully packaged (stuffed!) into pretty bags by some excited toddlers!An easy, budget-friendly, Valentine's Day project that my littles could not WAIT to share!


XOXO

Yes, we CAN be friends.

As I scrolled through Facebook the other day, at least half a dozen of my "friends"
had "shared" an article by Dugans Incahoots titled: "We can't be friends."
Heck, people were tagging me so that I would read the article too. Thank you. I did.

Long story short - it basically reads that her home is messy 90% of the time,
and if she has to clean before you come over then you can't be friends.

And suddenly my armpits began to sweat, in the most lady-like way possible of course.
Just tell me, are you sharing this because I am the one who needs to take a chill pill in the
home sanitation department or do you feel like you owe me an explanation for the status of your home?

I then went and applied some more deodorant.

Truth is, I recently argued with my doctor about incorporating an exercise routine into my day.
I bend, lift, pick, shove, kick-it all day, every day because I have kids and they make messes...
and I am a lover of order. Thus I'd rather sweep up crumbs, wipe down walls, and organize
toy bins than catch up on the latest episode of The Bachelor. I "work-out" ok, doc?!

That's a joke. I don't even watch The Bachelor! But if you watch The Bachelor, I still love you.
I think less of you, but I still love you. That's my new favorite joke... ba-da-ba!
*clashing cymbol* Someone stop me. Ha!

I'm not saying my house is ALWAYS perfect. I do have my days.
But more often than not, it's pretty ship-shape around here.

I am the mom who feels slightly embarrassed when "other moms" come over and ask me,

"So is your house always this clean?" ...

YES!?

I imagine that this response makes them all sorts of uncomfortable so I start back-peddling...

I mean... are you kidding me?!
As I frantically sprinkle some dried play-doh (the bane of my existence as a mother)
all over the floor and casually spill some day-old milk. Home sweet home.

I think the home is an expression of one's self and family.
And that's beautiful - NO MATTER WHAT!


Sometimes that expression looks messy, discombobulated, spread out, organic.
Other times that expression looks like labeled bins, alphabetical bookshelves,
and vacuumed floors. I don't alphabetize my books, for the record.

It's the people that LIVE in that house, their personalities and preferences,
that pull it all together and make it a HOME.

I agree with Dugans Incahoots - we DO need to stop trying to impress one another and
just BE who we are in our homes. But I say we CAN be friends... if we just meet each other
where we are at, clean or messy house, and focus on what really matters!!!

It's not the house. It's the people.
It's about living life - whatever it looks like - with those we love.

Relax. Just leave things the way they are. Your home is like an extension of your skin -
be comfortable in it. And let others be comfortable with you.

I declare the "Mrs." and "Mommy" wars officially over.
Glad we're friends.

Date Night || Take Out Fake Out

Life is what you make of it. Rain on my parade and I'll dance. Hand me lemons and I'll make lemonade.
Cliche city is so fun. But honestly, I can preach it in alligator boots with my hand on the Bible,
but the truth is: I struggle to see the silver lining sometimes.
And I personally think cliches are stupid.

Luckily I'm married to Mr. Optimistic and professional "crazy lady" handler.
Someone canonize this man!

Me: "Ugh. It's raining."
Nathan: "Hey, you're garden is going to be so green!"

Me: "Our weekend plans are ruined, my life is over."
Nathan: "As long as we're together, it's gonna be GREAT!"

Me: "I hate it that I can't eat whatever I want."
Nathan: "But you CAN eat a LOT of really good food and are healthy for it."

And I thought I was supposed to be a NUN. God knew better.
I needed the beauty of marriage.

Lately, with all the changes in my diet that seem to be more permanent, necessary than
ever before - it makes DATE NIGHT a little challenging. I mean - most people eat together
on a date at some point... and who doesn't love the fun experience of a new restaurant,
menu option, etc?! It's hard to do "take-out" these days, but we've been coming up with
all sorts of fun "fake-outs" to celebrate our weekly date night!!!

Mrs. Pity Party has been dreaming and drooling over the ideas of "favorites" that we
can make at home - minus the allergens and for HALF the cost!!! Plus our new thing has been
"teaching Nathan to cook" - so trying new recipes, getting frisky in the kitchen, and all
IS REALLY FUN!!! Again, life is what you make of it. You give me lemons, I'm going to make...

|| NAAN ||
Gluten Free / Dairy Free / Yeast Free / Sugar Free

All the laws of "bread" have been broken, and you're going to flavor jail!!!
Even my husband, who can actually eat regular breads thought these were A+...
and not just because I made them and he's my husband either!!! I checked.

We made GYROS with these last weekend for date night. Holy wow.
I can't wait to go back... to my own kitchen!!!



INGREDIENTS || yields 9
**I think it's important to note the brand of gluten-free flours -
it will make a difference.

sift all together //
1 C. Bob's Red Mill - Gluten-Free All Purpose Flour
1 C. Bob's Red Mill - Tapioca Flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. sea salt
1/2 tsp. of garlic powder (omit for regular naan)

in separate bowl, beat all together //
2 eggs
4 tbls. of extra virgin olive oil
juice of 1/2 a small lemon

Form a well in the dry ingredients and pour in wet ingredients.
Using a fork, pull everything together as best you can.
Dough will look wet, but crumbly - resembling pie dough.

Add one tablespoon of WARM water at a time until dough forms into a workable ball.
Should be holding together nicely.
Go ahead and fist pump the side of the bowl now. You rock.



Pinch off pieces of dough - just a tad bigger than a golf ball.
Pour a little olive oil onto the ball and work with your hands until smooth.
Spread out on a non-stick surface. If it sticks - roll it up and try and again.
You're shooting for 4-6" wide. You can do it!



Heat a couple slicks of olive oil in a pan over medium heat. Add naan and desired toppings
to the side facing UP. These have minced shallot, garlic, chive, and cilantro!!!

2-3 minutes for each side or until slightly golden, crisp.




I am amazed at how these stick together (not crumbly at all!) and still have some give.
You can fold these like a taco and they will NOT break! The gluten-free crowd cheers (in my head).
Chewy, soft, warm goodness!!!

Store in air-tight container in the fridge for 2-3 days or freezer for 2-3 weeks.
Use a toaster or skillet to re-heat. They will be as good as day #1. Believe you me.

I guess laws were meant to be broken.



Take out. Fake out. Make out.
It's what date night is all about it!

The Girls with the Fake Eyelashes

When I was in junior high, I used to curl my bangs. Like a perfect, little roll -
straight across my forehead - held in place with one too many squirts of hair spray.
It was so bad that a friend who knew me only from college once stated: "Man, you really
grew into your cuteness!" when a picture of the "turd" bangs was viewed.

And the truth is, people MADE FUN of me here and there or would try and stick
objects in my rolled bangs. I did not care. I mean, I thought about it all -
and obviously took some of it to heart... as I'm blogging about it centuries later,
but it didn't make me change anything. Partly because I was stubborn.
Mostly because I had enough confidence to sink a ship.

It's funny the things we remember; the things we allow to tattoo themselves upon our hearts.
I like to think that I'm STRONGER than I am. Woman of steel. Hear me roar. Knock me or my friends,
and I'll knock you back. Part truth, part facade - due to the deadly combination of being
"oldest born" and choleric.

"The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit."
-Proverbs 18:21
"You are fluffy." || age 8

"You have caterpillar eyebrows." || age 15

Words that were spoken over me by people who will not be named.
Why did these words stick while others just rolled like water off a duck's back?

I see so many expressions of discontent and inadequacy on the faces of women everywhere.
She looks down, she looks away, she wishes, she watches, she tries, fails, gives up...
Someone cover her?
Anyone?

I love how so very often on social media girl #1 will post a picture of herself and then
girl #2 through #4872 comments:

"Your hair! Tell me all your secrets!"

"Your make-up... I must know what you are wearing!"

"You're gorgeous. Give me your hair."

And so on and so forth until it becomes downright redundant and slightly ridiculous.

More often than not, girl #1 comes clean and tells her fan club that her golden locks
are mostly extensions and that no mascara on planet earth can beat the va-va-voom
of fake eyelashes, that she all but admits to wearing.

Images, ideas, words - a social media whirlwind that sweeps up your average girl
and spins a web of LIES concerning what TRUE BEAUTY is, should be, better be, or else...

no one may like you, want you, or see you.

We are HARD on ourselves as women. Naturally drawing things "within" ourselves -
holding all the details and memories like a bowl of spaghetti in our brains.

Drop the spaghetti and "be your own kind of beautiful" today and always?!


Not every girl out there has the COURAGE,
but I want you to look at the face, the hair, the body God gave you in the mirror
right now and KNOW, know so well, that every detail is NOT lost on your Maker.

And I am applauding, standing ovation kind of thing, the gift of beauty you have
been given. No one has your exact combination of skin tone, bone structure,
hair + eye color, nose + lip size... so go tell the social media, advertising agencies
all about THAT fact.

Encourage, embellish, define, highlight, FRAME the beauty of YOU today.
And share the (( heart )) of this message with someone else - cover them with me?



XO