Fun with fondant!

I was asked to make a cake for a friend's daughter's 4th birthday and came up with this. The instructions left me lots of play room. "Strawberry or raspberry filling, and 'Happy 4th Birthday, *****!'" I copied the lion from the party invitation and made him and all the polka dots out of marshmallow fondant. K and I have decided fondant is a lot of fun to play with because it' s like playdough. In contrast with regular fondant, this marshmallow stuff tastes great, so it gets eaten with the cake.K made a great little tag that read "Happy 4th Birthday" and we stuck it in the top of the cake with a paper clip we'd straightened and spiraled the end of; it looked like a cute little photo holder. I still need lots of practice, but I think it turned out pretty well for a first attempt. I'll be spending lots of time practicing on bigger cakes over the next couple of weeks, as I have 3 cakes for 100-110 people to produce.

A Letter for Mr. Scott Bean

Sir,

I pray the above title is neither presumptuous nor egregious, but, instead, conveys the utmost respect due a gentleman of your advanced years.

I fear a lack of verbal skills will prevent me from adequately expressing the shame I felt upon your gracious disclosure of my blunder. Please accept my heartfelt apology for any distress caused by such blatant carelessness. My intent was certainly not to place less importance on any one of your auspicious years. After all, one would then have to assess each year in order to determine which could most easily be done without. As you have been a continuous source of joy and levity in the lives of so many, the task would undoubtedly prove futile, thereby leaving us with an extra year to somehow squeeze in amongst the others. Reflecting on the youthful enthusiasm you continue to exhibit, must have, I'm afraid, distracted me from the daunting task of accurately counting your years on earth.

Rest assured, dear Sir, that I have made careful note of this most embarrassing error, so as to avoid it in the future. My best, though slightly belated, wishes for a glorious 27th year for you!

I remain your most impassioned supporter,

Ms. Mai Tungin da Cheek

Five years ago....

Yesterday was a great day on many levels. First and foremost, it was the Resurrection Day of our Saviour. It was also my greatly adored little brother's 26th Birthday! Happy, happy Birthday, Scott!! We love you!! In addition, yesterday marked the 5 year anniversary of the "Ambush of the 507th".

One of my dearest friends, and fellow blogger, asked if I'd consider posting about that day; at risk of being labeled a bore, I'll attempt to put in writing our experiences during the days leading up to and following the ambush.

Sunday, March 23, 2003 started early. The kids and I had stayed the night in Moab, Utah, on our way back to El Paso, after spending Spring Break visiting family in Salt Lake City. Matt had enlisted in the Army (for the third time!) several months earlier and had deployed with his Battalion in February. We all missed him terribly and needed to do something fun to distract us from Matt's absence. I had intended to start heading home a couple of days earlier, but the kids had all been sick during our visit, so we stayed an extra day. Between the six kids we had four kids with Strep throat, three with bronchitis, and two with walking pneumonia. What a fun time we had running between the local Urgent Care clinic and the pharmacy! Our little Banana was just days shy of 5 months old, and was one of the kids diagnosed with bronchitis earlier in the week. I spent most of Saturday night hovering over her while she slept next to me, her nursing was weak and she didn't seem very hungry. We loaded the van and continued heading south, stopping in Gallup, NM, so the kids could run around in the McDonald's Playland.

As I held Banana I noticed that her breathing didn't feel right; she felt like she was tugging with each breath. I debated whether we'd get the best care for her in Albequerque (an hour's drive) or back in El Paso (6 hours), and decided if the Gallup hospital was right on the way, we'd stop and have her checked, otherwise we'd continue on to Albequerque. The blue hospital sign on the side of the road made the decision for me. I checked little Banana in and the older kids spread out across the exam room floor with color books while we waited for the doctor. Within half an hour Banana had been diagnosed with severe pneumonia and put on oxygen. The doctor informed me that we could anticipate up to a week before she would be ready to leave the hospital. A week in a strange town with an oxygenated, nursing infant, and five older kids. Leaving my baby alone in a hospital while I slept in a hotel with the other kids was not an option, but I had no idea what else to do.

I used the phone in the exam room to call my in-laws to let them know where we were and what was going on. When I finished filling my father-in-law in, he asked me if I'd been watching the news. Of course, since we'd been on the road all day, I hadn't. He then told me that the 507th had been ambushed that morning and that there were several soldiers killed and several taken POW. He'd already been in contact with our commander's wife, who confirmed that Matt was involved in the ambush, but that his status was unknown. I don't think we can ever be adequately prepared to hear words that could change our lives forever. How can something as intangible as spoken words have the power to alter our realities? At the very moment I heard those words my world split in two. The inconceivable had violently forced its way into my ordered little universe. As uncertain as the future appeared at that moment, I was absolutely certain of one thing. My husband was not one of the dead. He might be wounded, or he might have even been captured, but he wasn't dead. I knew he would be coming home, and nothing could have dissuaded me otherwise. During my quiet prayer time before the deployment, the Lord had given me absolute peace about Matt coming home. He also impressed on me to pray Psalm 91 for Matt every day during the deployment, and I did. My biggest fear was that Matt would be identified as one of the POW's and that he'd suffer horrific abuse that would psychologically alter him. I knew he was coming home, I just didn't know in what condition.

Making sure we were in that hospital at that very time was the most loving thing God could have done for me. The hospital staff were unbelievable! After hearing the news, one of the nurses took the older kids on a tour of the hospital so I could have time to make phone calls to the rest of my family. Another one ordered food to be delivered for the kids since it was after 8:00 and we hadn't eaten. Without exception, every doctor and nurse we saw during our stay took the time to tell me they were praying for Matt and for us. When Banana was ready to go to her room, one of the nurses came in to tell me the hospital administrator had approved them clearing out a large room and moving extra beds in there for all of us. They brought up pj's, towels, and toothbrushes, and they let Banana sleep in my bed so I wouldn't have to get up to nurse her. "A" was in the room when I spoke with my father-in-law, but none of the other kids had a clue that anything was amiss, other than their baby sister being sick.

My darling sister was able to find one open seat on a flight from my mother-in-law's home to Albequerque, so Mom-in-law flew in and drove to Gallup the next day. That she was able to find a seat at all during spring break and at the last minute, was more evidence of God's loving hand over us. I was so humbled by her willingness to drop everything and come to us, without even knowing if I was going to have to give her devastating news about her son.

Shortly after Mom-in-law arrived, the Diabetic Education nurse came into the room, introduced herself, and invited Mom and the kids to stay at her house. She was a widow and had a large home and wanted to do something to help us. She and Mom hit it off, so the kids packed up and left with Grandma. I've never before experienced the level of love and caring that the staff at that hospital showed us. It was such a gift from God. One afternoon an employee came in our room and offered to take our laundry downstairs and wash it for me. She knew we were living out of suitcases and wanted to help. Countless people from nearly every department stopped in to check on Banana and let me know they were praying for us. An employee from the local grocery store brought in bags of food and snacks (I think my darling sister was behind that, but she's never really fessed up!). Nurses came and took the kids out to play in the park so Mom and I could have a few minutes of down-time. One employee brought in a portable dvd player and a stack of Veggie Tales and Disney movies for the kids to watch during the long days. The hospital Vice President personally visited us and brought an age appropriate book for each one of the kids to read on the way home. The hospital Chaplain gave me a little pewter box shaped like an angle with an angel pin inside to wear as a reminder of her prayers for Matt's safe return. There really was no better place for us to be that week, than in that hospital.

I spent the evenings reading my Bible, praying, and trying to write to Matt. I refused to watch the news and everything else on tv seemed completely inane. My husband was, literally, God-only-knows-where. My baby was very, very sick. And my other kids needed to be shielded from what was going on until I knew for sure what really was going on.


Banana made a recovery the doctors deemed remarkable and we were able to check out on Wednesday afternoon. I'd been told that the official list of KIA's, MIA's and POW's would be released sometime that day, so we headed out knowing that we wouldn't have specific information until we made it home to El Paso. I think the first thing Mom and I did, after walking in the front door, was turn on CNN. Within minutes we saw the confirmed list and cried with relief that Matt's name wasn't on any of them. But Jessica Lynch's was. Jessie was Matt's clerk and driver. Knowing she was missing, while he wasn't, kept me praying all the more for him. My darling husband won't even pretend to be progressive. He firmly believes, as do I, that men are meant to be the natural protectors of women. Men have an instinctive desire to shield and protect us from danger. I knew that seeing Jessie taken by the enemy would have been very difficult for him; he would have personally borne all the responsibility for anything she suffered from that point on. So I continued praying Psalm 91. When I realized that Jessie and Matt were riding in separate vehicles at the time of the ambush, I knew it was further evidence of God's protection.

The following Monday, as Mom and I were enjoying a morning cup of coffee, the phone rang. My "Hello?" was answered with "Hey, Babe!", and, for the second time in 8 days, my world seemed to come to a screeching halt. I was so flooded with emotions, I could hardly breathe for a moment. Time stood still. And once again, God's goodness shone brightly. Matt's mom was there, so she was able to talk with her son before flying home a couple of days later. As a mom, I know how much that meant to her and I was so grateful for the perfect timing of that call. During our conversation Matt shared many of the details of the ambush, and I was left speechless at how Divinely protected he really had been. So many details all worked together to put him exactly where he needed to be. From his personal truck breaking down, to the truck he was squeezed into, to the next truck he was put in, to the position of that truck in the convoy line, to the fatigue of his substitute driver. Everything perfectly orchestrated to place Matt exactly where God needed him.

Because of his actions and leadership in the moments following the ambush, Matt was credited with saving the lives of 4 of the wounded soldiers, while putting himself at mortal risk due to mortars being fired at him as he worked to stabilize and move the wounded. He was awarded the Bronze Star with V-Device for Valor in a nationally televised ceremony in July. Needless to say, we were all very proud of him. In the weeks and months following the ambush, Matt and I both had several opportunities to share our experiences through television and newspaper interviews. It was exciting to be able to talk to so many people about the fact that God was very much present in the midst of the chaos and devastation. Not to ever make light of the senseless and mind-numbing loss, but He was there. Ten of our soldiers came home draped in the American flag, as did nineteen Marines. It was ugly and mind-bogglingly painful. But God was there.

Two days after the ambush a group of Marines was sent in to recover whatever they could from the remaining vehicles. The truck carrying Matt's gear had been hit and almost everything in it destroyed. The only things the Marines were able to salvage for him were his toothbrush and his unscathed Bible. He'd someday like to have a shadow box displaying both his award and that Bible, opened to Psalm 91. "Though a thousand may fall at your side and ten thousand at your right hand, it will not come near you...For He will give His angels charge over you to protect you in all your ways. With their hands they shall support you lest you strike your foot against a stone...Whoever clings to me I will deliver; whoever knows my name I will set on high. All who call upon me I will answer. I will be with them in distress. I will deliver them and give them honor." Matt lived these verses. The soldier sitting next to him, who was the only licensed truck driver and should have been at the wheel instead of Matt, was hit in the face with glass and had shrapnel in his foot. Matt didn't have a scratch. I could almost hear the Psalm being sung in the background as he walked me through the details of that day. Guns pointed at his head, bullets flying through the windshield and out the back, glass shattering, mortars exploding and sending dirt and debris flying. So much chaos, and he didn't even strike his foot against a stone. Both physically and psychologically, he was completely protected.

It doesn't seem possible that five years has passed since that day. Yet, on the other hand, it seems like a lifetime ago. I pray that we all really become a praying people. Praying for the thousands of families living every day with the painful void of a beloved soldier. Praying for our leaders and the leaders around the world. Praying for peace. And praying that in any way He chooses, we each might be instrumental in the name of our God being glorified throughout the earth.

Great News!

Or "When God inexplicably opens a door that by all accounts is sealed shut"

For those of you unfamiliar with military jargon, please don't be dissuaded by the occasional acronym. :)

We've been fighting bouts of spontaneous grateful giggles, since confirming an 'inside' rumor that Matt had been selected for promotion. We knew he was potentially eligible because he'd hit the first benchmark of 18 months since his previous promotion. That benchmark put him into the "secondary zone" for promotion, or the early promotion zone. Most promotions come in the "primary zone", which is another year to 18 months down the road. In December Matt received notice that his ERB (military records) were eligible to be sent to the promotion board, unless he declined. Several weeks earlier he checked his records and found that almost 8 years of his service had disappeared; including his deployment to Iraq. His ERB included his award citation from Iraq, but no other record of his even being there. (The personnel office at our former duty station has somehow managed to "lose" the deployment records for the entire Battalion that Matt deployed with!) Our local personnel office was proving unable to track down the missing records as well, so Matt nearly opted to decline submitting his records. He can't explain why he didn't decline because he "knew" he didn't stand a chance with an incomplete ERB; the promotions are too competitive from this point on.

But, against all odds, he made the list! He hasn't even completed the required pre-promotion school yet!! He'll be finishing the last half of the school in the fall, and his promotion number places him in line for a late fall/early winter promotion, so the timing will be perfect. When looking at Matt's incomplete record, it makes no sense that he'd be promoted above other soldiers we know with complete records, completed school, and great assignments; but he was. The promotion comes with a pay raise of almost 30%, which adds an extra layer to our gratitude. ;) It also provides the change of job Matt we'd been hoping for. His current leadership is more than a little challenging which has turned his work into drudgery lately. Because of the upcoming promotion, he's now overqualified for his current position and is being moved to from the company to the battalion level on the 15th.

One more reason we're excited about this, is that Matt will no longer be "traveling" with his soon-to-be former company, which MAY provide the opportunity for him to try to go to our family reunion with us this summer! Yea!!

The humbling lesson in this has been that nothing can stop God's blessings when you're truly in His Will.

Easter Blessings

We want to share our favorite Easter song and wish you all a blessed and meaningful Easter.

Dining Room Math

I just love learning breakthroughs! Our dear Schmabbers struggles with spatial and abstract concepts. God bless Grandma B! When she visited in November, she spent what seemed like hours sitting with Schmab and going over how to round numbers up and down, and it finally clicked! Thank you, Grandma!! We've been cruising along until this week when it was time to introduce measurement conversions. Story problems like "Timmy is 4 feet tall. How many inches tall is he?" resulted in glazed-over stares and answers like "13?" "10?" "40?"
After praying for a bit of inspiration to help our little princess wrap her mind around this new concept, I realized she needed to see concrete examples of what feet and yards look like and how they break down into inches. We have Italian tile floors that are the bane of my life during school hours. Someone inevitably drops small pieces of mechanical pencil lead on the floor, which then get stuck on the bottom of the chair legs, which wouldn't be such a big deal if the chairs never moved. But we end up with black pencil marks all over the floor near the dining/school table, and it drives me nuts! This week, however, they became the spark we needed for a hands-on activity in measuring.
Banana was the first victim in our little game, but all the kids took turns being measured, even our biggest dorks, who were upset when they thought we'd left them out! Everyone's length was measured and marked with the wonderful mechanical pencils I was earlier cursing. The the kids worked together to mark off 1 foot increments, then inches within each foot. Schmabbers got to count the number of feet and try to figure out the inches, then she counted the inches to double-check her answers. After a couple of tries, by Jove, she got it!! (As did her younger sister!) "Every foot is 12 inches, Schmab, so 2 feet is just two 12's!" (Banana's been having fun writing out and solving multiplication problems this week. Between dress-up princess games and coloring, of course! I don't think she realizes 5 year olds aren't supposed to understand any of this stuff yet.)
Daddy came home to find the floor covered in markings, with one tile listing everyone's stats, and a proud 7 year old eagerly waiting to explain it all to him. These are the homeschool moments that make the nutty moments worth it. I didn't even grumble when I mopped the floor that night.

How sexy are you?

What a little ragamuffin!!

Let them eat bread!

I thought I'd share a loaf of fresh bread with all of you this morning. One of these days someone will invent smellavision so you can get the full effect; but until that time pictures will have to do. I love having a machine to do all the messy work for me, so all I have to do is shape it and put it in a pan. Look at the dome on that baby!

Washing machines aren't the only tiny appliance we get to make do with over here; check out our tiny oven! I can get one 9x13 in with the handles almost touching the sides. I can barely close the door to fit my Pampered Chef bar pan in with the short side to the back of the oven. The long sides are 2" longer than the oven is wide. I think I'm going to have to start baking right on the floor of the oven because it's baking too hot on top and browning too much.


All done! Mmmmm....the house smells sooo good! As soon as it cools I'll be fighting K for the heel.



Ha! I won! The top is a little darker than I prefer, so I'll try it on the oven floor tomorrow. But the texture is perfect! For those of you who bake, I suggest trying white or golden wheat for your bread instead of red. I've never been crazy about the harsher flavor and denser texture of the red. White wheat has the same nutritional value as the red, but makes a loaf so light no one will believe it's whole wheat. I'll be happy to share my dough enhancer recipe, if anyone is interested.

A Day In Our Life

I'm often asked what our typical day is like, so if you've ever wanted a voyeuristic peek into a 'normal' day at our house, here you have it:

0445- Superman wakes up, brushes his teeth and dresses for PT (physical training).
0500- Superman wakes me from a semi-coma. I stumble to the bathroom, where he's loaded and laid out my toothbrush (how sweet is that?) and brush my teeth.
0505- We meet downstairs for 30-45 minutes of prayer/scripture reading.
0545- Superman grabs his uniform and boots, kisses me, assures me of his undying devotion, and heads out the door for work.
0550- The bread machine beeps. I dump the dough into my hands, shape it, place it in a bread pan, cover it, and leave it to rise while the oven preheats.
0550- I sit down with a cup of tea, my Bible, and a journal and take advantage of the only minutes of quiet solitude I'll have for the day.
0600- The washing machine beeps, informing me that I programmed it correctly the night before and is now starting its first wash cycle of the day.
0630- Bread goes into the oven. I check the day's menu to see if anything needs to be pulled out of the freezer. Back to my Bible and notebook.
0640- Schmabbers and Banana come downstairs and are sent back up to rest quietly until 0700. (I need my alone time!)
0700- Both little girls are back downstairs with happy grins, big hugs, and dragon breath.
0705- 0715- I wake up the remaining sleeping kiddos and make sure whichever teen has class at the high school is up and getting ready for the 0815 bus.
0715- Another beautiful, feather-light loaf of whole wheat bread comes out of the oven. Yum!
0730- Breakfast is started while the kids de-stink their collective mouths.
0730- The washing machine beeps again, this time to announce the completion of the washing. (These crazy German machines take 1:45 to finish a load and only hold 8 lb. of clothes! We do laundry all day long!) 'A' usually hears the machine and puts the clothes into the dryer for me, then starts a new load before coming up for breakfast.
0800- Kids clear their dishes and head in different directions- getting dressed, making beds, picking on each other and starting fights...If all is going well, this is when I can jump in the shower.
0830-0900- We try to start the school day at about this time, depending on what else I'm involved in at the moment. If I'm at all distracted; forget it! Nobody is motivated to start until I'm looming over them.
0900-1200- School, reminders that siblings' body parts were intended to be neither pin cushions nor punching bags, questions, answers, laughter, bickering, reminders that bad choices mean earlier bed time (Horrors!), moments of frustrated mental-blocks, and victorious accomplishments.
0930- Dry clothes out of the dryer, wet clothes in, new load started.
1145- Lunch prep and table/kitchen clean-up.
1145- Dry clothes out of the dryer, wet clothes in, new load started. This is ridiculous! Couldn't we just try having a Naked Day once or twice a week?
1200-1230- Lunch. We like to read a book during lunch, but we've been out of our groove lately. I'm trying to decide which one to start next. In the meantime, 'J' has been occasionally been reading excerpts of whatever book he's reading. He's a great read-alouder!
1230-1315- Recess/free time. Now that the weather's warming up the kids usually head to the back yard to kick the soccer ball around or play tag. If it's cold we have characters in all sorts of dress-up clothes running around in make-believe land. If I'm feeling especially benevolent I might let the older kids play "Dance, Dance Revolution".
1315-1500-The younger kids are often finished with school work by lunch or right after recess. The older ones are usually done by 1500. (It would be earlier if they didn't all suffer from such severe ADD!)
1330- Another laundry switch-out.

('M' working on history while I start beans for tomorrow's dinner of Mexican waffles.)

1500-1630-The kids earn tickets for school work completed and can turn them in for minutes on the computer, playing video games, or watching a movie.
1500- Today's snack is apples and peanut butter. Banana came screaming into the room with her mouth wide open crying about the hot peanut butter. 'A' didn't realize we were out of regular, so he gave her the spicy kind (peanuts, honey, cinnamon & cayenne). Oooops! Banana and I made up a quick batch of plain, boring p.b. in our fabulous new Vitamix.
1630- Kids work on a quick check of their weekly chore responsibilities while I start dinner and go over school work. I try to enter grades into the computer daily, but I'm usually a couple of days behind.
1730- Superman is usually walking in the door. After recovering from an onslaught of tackle-hugs, he goes upstairs to change for dinner.
1800- We try to shoot for dinner at this time, but life seems to get in the way an awful lot lately. We're almost always done, though, by 1900.
1900-1930- Either Superman or I usually help the child whose dish day it is, so clean-up goes faster.
1930- The last load of the day comes out of the dryer to be folded while we watch our show. Tomorrow's first load is programmed to start at 0600. One of the little kids grinds flour for tomorrow's loaf of bread and the bread machine is programmed to be finished with our dough early the next morning.
1930-2000- Baths/brushing teeth/story time/prayers/kisses. We try to get the little girls into bed by 2000. 'J' heads downstairs to his bed to read until 2030.
2100-2200- Superman and the older two or three kids and I sit down and watch an episode of whatever tv series we've borrowed from the library. (We don't have cable, so we don't watch regular tv) Lately we've been watching season 7 of Gilmore Girls. Season 3 of House is next. On Sunday, our electronics-free day, we challenge each other to Blockus or chess or Apples to Apples or Labyrinth.
2200- I check the menu for breakfast and set out anything that needs to thaw. We hug our teens, send them to bed, brush our teeth, and turn-in.

I need to squeeze a block of work-out time in there somewhere, but I haven't figured out how to do it consistently yet. Any ideas would be greatly appreciated!!

Canadian idiots!

We've come to the realization that our kids probably listen to too much Weird Al. Our youngest four can't get enough of him, and I must admit (with my head appropriately shamefully bowed) that "Weasel Stomping Day" and "The Night Santa Went Crazy" always make me laugh. But the other day Banana and I were talking about different Bible characters and she was telling me the story of Samson, who really impresses her because "he had these really huge, big muscles". This is what followed:
(Five year old hands on skinny five year old hips) "Delilah would NOT have tricked Samson if those Canadians hadn't told her to!"
"Canadians?! What Canadians?!"
"The Canadians that poisoned her and made her turn evil so she'd trick Samson." (Duuuhh, Mom!)
"Honey, there weren't any Canadians in Bible times. It was the Philistines who captured Samson, and no one poisoned Delilah."
"Sigh. The Philistines worked for the Canadians, Mom. And that's who poisoned Delilah so she'd want to trick Samson into telling her about his hair."
"Where in the world did you get the idea that the Canadians were behind all of this?"
"Mom! The Canadians are idiots! That means they're evil. Evil people poison other people and trick them into being bad!"
"Sigh. 'J'! Please put in different music. Let's listen to some Vivaldi or Mozart."