tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-353499582024-03-07T18:01:39.094-06:00Toasty ToesBeckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.comBlogger326125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-68181011084503204752011-10-19T10:22:00.002-05:002011-10-19T10:30:45.443-05:00I remember whenWhen I was in 7th grade I attended a private Christian school in McHenry, IL. That has it's own memories saved for another date. THe fact that I rode a bus home comes with it's own set of stories, which I am also storing in a special spot to unload later.<br /><br />On this particular freezing cold Chicago suburb day, my bus driver dropped me off two streets early and I began to walk home. About half a block down I noticed two doberman pinchers who at the same time noticed me.<br /><br />I think they owned that street.<br /><br />They for SURE thought they owned that street. They took off after me and I took off into a nearby yard. Without thinking, I opened the first door I came to and ran inside the house.<br /><br />An elderly woman in curlers came into the living room.<br /><br />"What are you doing here?" she asked.<br /><br />I explained about the dogs and she looked out the window to see them panting at her door. Those dogs wanted to eat me for dinner!<br /><br />The lady, who seemed awfully nice gave me some lemonade and called animal control. It was the last bit of niceness I ever saw in her.<br /><br />She proceeded to curse at the person on the other end of the phone and when the dog catcher finally arrived (too late for her approval) she cussed at him and threw a house-shoe at his head.<br /><br />I was a determined little missionary even at that time in my life and I promptly invited her to church, which brought on a new onslaught of foul language all aimed at me.<br /><br />She called me "Nasty-Girl" every time she saw me after that, and every time I saw her, I asked her to church.<br /><br />She never did say yes.Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-8754672541939953392011-10-18T11:53:00.003-05:002011-10-18T11:58:25.835-05:00I remember whenI can remember the time my sister sheared off her tongue with a popsicle.<br /><br />We lived in Illinois, in the cottage on the Fox River. Renee would lend us all money (she was the family banker) and we would all buy popsicles.<br /><br />One day she tried to take a lick of hers and her tongue was stuck fast. That popsicle was so frozen that even when we ran water over it, it would not come unglued from her tongue.<br /><br />Eventually she just pulled that sucker right off. And there we saw part of her tongue hanging from the side of the cherry popsicle.<br /><br />Serves her right for charging us 50% interest.Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-56647687408403259642011-10-16T18:17:00.003-05:002011-10-16T18:20:21.704-05:00I rememberI remember when I was a little girl and was living in Memphis and my mother would hand my sister and I glasses of ice-water to bring out to the garbage men.<br /><br />It was hot in Memphis, and my mother appreciated having the smelly bags of trash removed. She showed her gratitude for this often thankless job by offering ice water.<br /><br />I think it was my first taste of what compassion tasted like.Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-41617213363701865332011-09-20T13:36:00.002-05:002011-09-20T13:48:07.743-05:00Recipe Link List: Part ThreeWe'll call this recipe category: "OTHER". It will include, sauces, side dishes, and maybe a few nibbles for the sweet tooth.<br /><br /><a href="http://primalbodybuilding.wordpress.com/2010/06/02/andy-deas-coconutapple-pudding-a-couple-of-tfods/">Coconut Apple Pudding</a><br /><br /><a href="http://simplyrecipes.com/recipes/oven_baked_sweet_potato_fries/">Sweet Potato Fries</a> (leave off the sugar) (You don't need it)<br /><br /><a href="http://www.theclothesmakethegirl.com/2010/12/13/suddenly-im-in-the-mood-for-broccoli/">Salty Sweet Broccoli Salad</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.elanaspantry.com/mashed-cauliflower/">Mashed Cauliflower</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.foundationcrossfit.com/2010/06/week-of-healthy-eating.html">Creamed Chard</a><br /><br /><a href="http://paleogurlkitchen.blogspot.com/2011/03/twice-baked-cauli-tots.html">Twice Baked Cauli-tots</a>Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-53977080988413982892011-09-20T12:10:00.003-05:002011-09-20T12:31:48.397-05:00Peleo Recipe Link List: Part TwoLet's get these beef recipes out of the way. I have a TON of them.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.icookfree.com/cook/recipes/puerto-rican-beef-with-a-thai-twist/">Purto Rican Beef with a Thai Twist</a><br /><a href="http://www.icookfree.com/cook/main-dish/gluten-freepaleo-meatballs/">Gluten Free Peleo Meatballs</a><br /><a href="http://www.health-bent.com/beef/tex-mex-meatza">Tex Mex Meatza</a><br /><a href="http://www.theclothesmakethegirl.com/2010/02/16/dinner-and-a-movie™-meatza-pie-and-the-vancouver-olympics/">Meatza Pie</a><br /><a href="http://everydaypaleo.com/2010/04/09/dry-rub-burgers-and-sweet-potato-rounds/">Dry Rub Burgers</a><br /><a href="http://www.5dollardinners.com/2011/03/shredded-beef-sandwiches-red-cabbage-apple-slaw.html">Shredded Beef Sandwiches with cabbage and Apple slaw</a><br /><a href="http://whole9life.com/2010/01/mexi-salad/">Mexi Salad with fresh Guacamole</a><br /><a href="http://everydaypaleo.com/2011/05/13/smokey-roast/">Smokey Roast</a><br /><a href="http://www.health-bent.com/proteins/paleo-meatloaf">Seriously tasty Peleo Meatloaf</a><br /><a href="http://www.theclothesmakethegirl.com/2010/12/28/paleo-comfort-food-cottage-flower-pie/">Cottage Flower Pie</a><br /><a href="http://paleogurlkitchen.blogspot.com/2011/06/mexican-stuffed-bell-peppers.html">Mexican Stuffed Bell Peppers</a><br /><a href="http://www.icookfree.com/cook/recipes/creole-roast/">Creole Roast</a><br /><br />Special Notes: I have had to substitute seasoning quite a bit because of the lack of seasoning available in Ecuador. However, these recipes are tasty enough they stand up to adjustments.<br /><br />All of these recipes are either kid approved or kid tolerated<br /><br />I often used my crockpot instead of the oven. i have yet to successfully make an oven roasted roast.<br /><br />The mexi-Salad, meatball, and meatloaf recipes are a family favorite. The Puerto Rican beef recipe is Dustan's all-time favorite.<br /><br />The meatloaf recipe is bizarrely lacking in veggies. I always add whatever veggies I have on hand. The recipe is a perfect jumping off point though.<br /><br />We do not eat the Shredded Beef Sandwich on bread. We just pile it all on a plate and eat it with a fork. This is one of our go-to company recipes.<br /><br />There are several recipes out there that I have NOT included. This is either because we have not tried them yet, or because they did not work for our family. If you try a beef recipe that is grain free and dairy free that you think I would like, please post the recipe or a link to the recipe in my comment section. As I add new recipes to my rotation, I will come back and add them here.Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-23958495758688092772011-09-20T11:39:00.002-05:002011-09-20T12:05:07.315-05:00Peleo Recipe LInk list Part OneI have recently lost enough weight that I am finally in the "healthy" weight range. I spent 10 years being obese and then 2 years in the overweight range.<br /><br />This year I changed my eating habits to closely follow a Paleo themed eating regimen. I won't go into the description all that much, there is a TON of info online, but I will say I started with a 30 day eating plan outlined on <a href="http://whole9life.com/2011/06/whole-30-v4/">Whole 30</a>. This was tremendously successful for me, and as soon as I see any weight creeping back up, I immediately revert to this very strict eating.<br /><br />Anyhoo, I wanted to post a list of recipe links that would work for anyone. No need to be trying to lose weight- these recipes are chock full of healthy ingredients and are delicious.<br /><br />Because I have so many in my rotation, I will break them up into different posts. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Let's start with chicken shall we?</span><br /><br /><a href="http://www.icookfree.com/cook/recipes/crockpot-chicken-carnitas/">Crockpot Chicken Carnitas</a><br /><a href="http://whole9life.com/2010/08/steal-this-meal-chicken-simple/">Whole Roasted Chicken</a><br /><a href="http://everydaypaleo.com/2010/04/16/three-no-excuses-lunch-ideas-and-magazine-update/">Warm Chicken and Bacon Green Salad</a><br /><a href="http://www.icookfree.com/cook/recipes/mexican-crock-pot-stew/">Mexican Crock Pot Stew</a><br /><a href="http://www.icookfree.com/cook/main-dish/chicken-almond-mole/">Chicken Almond Mole</a><br /><a href="http://whole9life.com/2010/09/stm-chicken-fajitas/">Best Chicken Fajitas</a><br /><a href="http://www.theclothesmakethegirl.com/2009/09/23/dinner-and-a-movie™-the-emmy-awards-and-pina-colada-chicken-with-calypso-confetti-cauliflower/">Piña Colada Chicken and Calypso Confetti Cauliflower</a><br /><br />Special Notes: I have had to substitute seasoning quite a bit because of the lack of seasoning available in Ecuador. However, these recipes are tasty enough they stand up to adjustments.<br /><br />All of these recipes are either kid approved or kid tolerated, with the exception of the Chicken Almond Mole which they found to be too spicy. This would be easily adjusted, except for the fact that this is Dustan's and my favorite recipe written as is. I refuse to adjust the heat, because I am cruel that way. They eat fried bologna when I serve this meal.<br /><br />The Best chicken Fajitas Ever, are another all-time favorite.<br /><br />There are several recipes out there that I have NOT included. This is either because we have not tried them yet, or because they did not work for our family. If you try a chicken recipe that is grain free and dairy free that you think I would like, please post the recipe or a link to the recipe in my comment section. As I add new recipes to my rotation, I will come back and add them here.Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-69358382208438785432011-05-31T08:26:00.003-05:002011-05-31T09:01:57.304-05:00My Oscar Speech (of sorts)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-liiKv3RKpbs/TeTt5bLam0I/AAAAAAAAC7E/GiqmCp5jG0I/s1600/Birthday%2Bpic.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-liiKv3RKpbs/TeTt5bLam0I/AAAAAAAAC7E/GiqmCp5jG0I/s400/Birthday%2Bpic.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612872606414445378" /></a><br /><br />When I was a little girl, I just KNEW I would one day stand before an audience of millions and thank everyone I knew for my great honor of achieving the gold statue of acting. I started practicing when I was 8. At that point in my life I didn't have very many people to thank. But every year I rearrange my speech. I add, I take away. <br /><br />One year I was so tired and the Oscars had gone on so loonnnnngggggg, and that one dude practically had a heart-attack screaming his gratitude that I decided when I won MY oscar I would say only "Thank You." and then get down. I think that was when I was 25.<br /><br />So today, at the age of 36 I woke up and decided I was never going to win an oscar. Crazier things have happened, but when I got out of bed this morning I noticed I suddenly (SUDDENLY) had jowls. My back made an audible creak. My knees tried to give out. It was time to stop hanging on to impossible dreams. I think I may have become an adult this morning.<br /><br />So, feeling a bit melancholy about giving up my annual planning of my Oscar speech (seriously I think I have finally outgrown it) (It's time dontcha think?) I am going to give you my speech. But without all the movie and acting stuff, because the only thing I have accomplished in my life is... well LIFE. And frankly, that is an accomplishment deserving of a speech. Get ready, because ain't no music gonna cut me off.<br /><br />I can't go any further without thanking the ones who made all this life stuff possible. Mom and Dad, thank you for loving each other enough. Not sure I should go anywhere else with THAT train of thought. But seriously, without your love for each other, I would be a distant nothing of nothingness, my life, not even a thought in all of eternity.<br /><br />And thank you for not throwing me out a window. I know you were sorely tempted at times. But, well, look at what happened because of your patience! LIFE! MY LIFE! Gracias mi padres, del bajo de mi corazon.<br /><br />And I want to thank a few incredible teachers who told me I was not stupid and who gave me the ability to FLY. Mr. Smith, Mrs Solan G Freeman, and Mr. Popovich. You all deserve this mention in my achievement of life speech, because of you, I love learning, I love experiencing life through education, and I am pretty sure it is all your fault I never graduated from college. How could I finish when there were so many other interesting things to study and learn?<br /><br />I want to thank Christina Moon, the Burns girls, Michelle Sass, Brittany McFarland, and Tara P and Gwen W for making sure every era of my life was filled with friendship. Michelle, you get a special note of thanks for making sure my teenage self did not park her car in front of a train.<br /><br />I want to thank Seth and Renee, two of the best (and worst) siblings a girl could have ever wanted. You made me successful in parenting. No way would I have been able to achieve my level of obnoxious parenting without having had all the practice you provided me with.<br /><br />Now I want to thank a few nameless or partially nameless people. Missionaries from 3rd grade GA camp, Missionary from Russia from the GA mother daughter banquet, Missionaries in all those stories I read. Marion or Miriam- I am sorry I forgot your name, and Mrs Smith? Thank you for bending a teenage heart towards missions. <br /><br />Listen carefully, you did not just change MY life. You have changed the lives of every person I have ever shared my faith with. You have touched the lives of countless children in Florida, teenage girls in East St Louis, un-wed mothers in crisis pregnancies in St Clair county, single teenage moms in Granite city, and young people, children, and adults in Loja, Ecuador.<br /><br />Dustan. Ummm, thank you for not throwing my moody self off a bridge. Thank you for loving me in a way that makes me better understand Christ's love for me. Thank you for encouraging me in my every endeavor. Thank you for being the weight to my helium ballon personality.<br /><br />Heavenly Father, Savior, Creator of my being. To you all thanks belong. The very breath I breath comes from you, every person in my life, every opportunity, every blessing, is your gift to me. My life is the best birthday present ever, and THAT comes from you.<br /><br />Thank You. Thank you all!Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-31795414220295501972011-05-08T09:19:00.001-05:002011-05-08T09:22:02.833-05:00A Letter to my Mom on Mother's DayDear Mom,<br /><br />When I was a little girl you used to say such things as, “When you grow up, I hope you have a little girl just like yourself.” and “When you grow up, you will be terribly sorry for how you acted as a child.” and “One day you will thank me for this.” and “One day you will wish you could take naps.<br /><br />So on this Mother’s Day of 2011, as I sit staring out my window, at 9:00 in the morning, and already longing for a nap, I have a few things to say to you.<br /><br />First off. In answer to your “One day I hope you have a little girl just like yourself”. I got one. Only he is a boy. And I will never wish himself on himself. You need to write me a letter of apology. NOW!<br /><br />Secondly, I am sorry. Remember that time I stole Dad’s antique coin collection and spent it on popsicles and pencils? Remember how embarrassed you were when the school called to tell you had had been buying penny erasers with coins from 1800? I am sorry.<br />I am also sorry for the call that sent you to the school after I walked into the boy’s bathroom, the one that sent you running when I tried to pull out another girl’s hair, and that time I played my Rhino bowling game in the school hallway (I bent over and ran down the hallway and counted how many kids I knocked down.)<br />I am kind of sorry I finally got the boot from school. I am definitely sorry for all the embarrassment you had to feel over my misbehaviors.<br /><br />I am also sorry for being a brat as a teenager. In fact I AM SORRY FOR BEING A TEENAGER at all!<br /><br />I am sorry for changing my major 18 times in college.<br />I am sorry for telling you that you were the worst mother on the planet. I am even more sorry for all those times when I made you FEEL like the worst mother on the planet. For all those times you wished I would run away or wanted to slap a “For Sale” sign on my back... I am sorry.<br /><br />I am sorry for bickering and fighting with my brother and sister. I am sorry for locking Renee out of the house and for slobbering on Seth. I know now how miserable that had to have made your life. I am oh so very sorry. (Can you please call my kids and ask them to stop now? I am pretty sure justice has been served)<br /><br />Thirdly, THANK YOU.<br /><br />Thank you for loving me even in those times when you thoroughly disliked me. Maybe even hated me. But you still loved me. <br /><br />Thank you for homeschooling me, even when you didn’t want to. It made a huge impact on my life, and I am successfully educated because of it. You did not deserve to make that sacrifice, but because you did, God blessed my life in great ways.<br /><br />Thank you for teaching me to read. And for loving everything that I write. You are my biggest fan and I LOVE that about you.<br /><br />Thank you for teaching me about boys. And about Men. Thank you for pushing me towards patience when it came to them.<br /><br />Thank you for being funny even when you were angry.<br /><br />Thank you for filling my parenting tool box with such things as “I will hang you upside down by your toenails” and “Would you like me to lock you in the whine cellar?” and “Let’s clean the baseboards! With toothbrushes!!!” Those tools lighten up every one of my tense mothering moments.<br /><br />Thank you for valuing education and seeking yours even into my adulthood.<br /><br />Thank you for all the memories. For cows in cars, for powdered milk covered walls, for egg yolks on daddy’s head, for Swat team investigations, for after school spankings, for piles of books, for thumb twiddling lessons, for mornings spent under the covers of your bed, for hair brushing torture sessions, for half a trip to Granny’s house, for a year’s worth of groundings...<br /><br />I thank you for all of them.<br /><br />And as a token of my thanks, I post the following touching video:<br /><br /><iframe width="400" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ZQsTzNOzLlE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-4270465730094669202011-04-08T10:03:00.004-05:002011-04-08T10:48:10.343-05:00Grace Explosion:<blockquote>So this blog here is not where I talk about my walk with my Savior, or my Spiritual growth. It's about housekeeping, and such stuff like that. A place that you used to be able to come to read pithy tales of my life as a homemaker, to find badly written recipes, and funny stories about my hilarious kids. Lately, it's been a place you could come and hear the crickets chirping. <br />Today I am breaking from all of that. Today any readers I have left will see in full force that which drives me. My God. I have no idea what the future of this blog holds, whether it will be a place for more similar musings or if it will return to the way of the chirping crickets, but I do know this:<br />What I say today, is what I have wanted to say for a long time. I just couldn't hold it in any longer. It exploded.</blockquote><br /><br />You know what I love? I love when Christians embrace grace so hard that it explodes and oozes out all over anyone who stands near them. Try it today.<br /><br />Do you have a load of dirty dishes, a mountain of laundry, and children who would rather be chasing each other around with knives than singing Koombaya? Did you homemade yogurt curdle? Did your homemade laundry soap leave your clothes smelling sour? Does your garden have more weeds than carrots?<span style="font-weight:bold;"> Are you a housekeeping failure?<br /></span><br />Did your child get seriously ill from a vaccine? Did your son get hepatitis from your lack of vaccinating him? Did your 15 year old daughter come home and tell you she is having a baby? Did you have to place your parents in a nursing home? Did you two year old paint his walls with peanut butter? Or worse? Is your 8 year old hanging upside from a tree, his arm in a cast from when he fell last week? (You might want to go get him down.) <span style="font-weight:bold;">Are you a mothering failure?<br /></span><br />Do you have a husband who comes home and sighs because his personal time is interrupted by you handing him a stinky baby, his son handing him a notebook of unsolvable math problems and you giving him a list of all the ways your day SUCKED? <span style="font-weight:bold;">Are you a wifely failure?</span><br /><br /><br />Did you forget to read your Bible today? And yesterday too? Oh, and last week? Was the last time you touched your Bible on Sunday when you carried it to church? Did you forget to pray for your kids today? Did you let an inner curse fly into your head when your neighbor’s dog wouldn’t SHUT UP at 3 am? Ummm.... was that curse actually a bit less than an inner mental one? <span style="font-weight:bold;">Are you a Spiritual failure?</span><br /><br />Did you hear the phone ring and then ignore it because, well, you just couldn’t deal with her today? Did you avoid opening an email from the church children’s worker leader so that you can later say. “Oh, I am sorry, I never got that email?” Did you eat that package of snicker bars that were meant for the food pantry? And the cans of tuna too? Are all that you have left those 15 cans of Rutabegas? <span style="font-weight:bold;">Are you a ministry failure?</span><br /><br />Did you start ANOTHER diet today? Which is different than the one you started yesterday? Did you gain 5 pounds on the “eat the snickers that were meant for the food pantry diet? Did you skip a shower today? And maybe yesterday too? Have you skipped shaving you legs for over a year? Did you throw out your fat jeans because they were too small? <span style="font-weight:bold;">Are you a personal failure?</span><br /><br />I have some news for you. Sit down, because it will blow you away. Today I embraced God’s grace for myself, and it’s about to explode all over you!<br /><br />Guess what? God loves you. He doesn’t care that you are a failure. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF HIS FOLLOWERS ARE FAILURES.<br /><br />All that stuff above? It’s pretty bad (especially if you kids are chasing each other with knives. I would put a stop to that if I were you). It’s REALLY REALLY BAD. It’s selfishness, it’s manipulation, it’s lying, it’s... well, if you really ate those snickers bars, it’s stealing. You are a BAD person! Yay! You are a FAILURE! YAY! <br /><br />Cause guess what? Everything I know about God says that every single person he loves is a PRETTY bad person. A failure.<br /><br />God is a lover of people failures. <br /><br />I don’t know how it is. I can’t explain it. It doesn’t make any sense. I don’t have any analogies that even come close to describing it. Fathers don’t love this way. Mothers don’t love this way. God is different and he FRIGGIN loves me.<br /><br />People. Do you get it? Even while I am mired in sin (which will be the rest of my ever lovin’ life) God LOVES ME.<br /><br />So. You are a failure. Good. Means you are human. Like me. <br /><br />Oh, and guess what?<br /><br />GOD LOVES YOU!!!!<br /><br />So, accept it and then go explode yourself all over someone with all that pure joy you have.<br /><br />Disclaimer: I KNOW that God doesn’t want you to keep cussing the neighbor’s dog out every morning at 3 AM. I know He wants you to dig in His Word more than Sundays.<br /><br />But He also wants you to embrace HIS GRACE! And He wants you to do that first.<br /><br />So, tell me. What will your grace explosion look like today?Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-13454998475370249772011-01-28T15:44:00.003-06:002011-01-28T15:52:15.422-06:00A letter to a former me:I was flipping through an old Australian magazine today (I read whatever gets sent the cafe's way), and the 'zine had a revolving feature of famous people writing letters to the former self at the age of sixteen. I was intrigued by both the letter and the concept. What should my sixteen year old self know that I know now? My sixteen year old self was pretty dumb, I think she needs a manual of sorts!<br /><br />Anyhow, here is what I think she needs to know, boiled down of course, since I don't think you all want to read her manual. She did pretty well, that sixteen year old girl, especially considering what an idiot she was, but there are a few things I think she should know:<br /><br />Dear <s>Rebecca</s> <s>Rebekah</s> Rebecka (To begin with you should know that know matter how many time you respell your name, it won;t help you become an actress),<br /><br />You are thirty five now. That should mean something. It means you found life worth living! And let me tell you, you might be feeling a wee bit depressed soon, but chin up. It’s gonna get good!<br /><br />First off, that boy is no good. You know it, your friends know it, and your sister is right. He is horrible. You should get over it now so you don’t waste your heart. Cause that heart is gonna be needed, oh yes it is! Your thrity-five year old self will be married for 13 years to a former computer programmer! Don’t be so shocked you teenage goon, I promise, it isn’t boring. <br /><br />Secondly, I admire your courage to be crazy. It won’t be as easy when you get older, so have fun trying to be everything you want to be. You won’t regret trying to be a poet, actress, novelist, teacher, psychologist, historian, or sign language interpreter. What you will become is pretty cool though. I am kind of afraid to tell you. I am afraid you will hide your head in a pillow and cry tears of shame for your future self. But, frankly, that is because you are an idiot. Sorry, but you should know the truth now, it will save you heartache in the future. You don’t know everything. You especially do NOT know what is best for yourself. You are gonna be a mother. <br /><br />See? I knew you would cry because you don’t have even half a brain yet. Don’t worry. Your life is full of adventure, and your kids are spunkier, funnier, and crazier than you could even imagine yourself to be.<br /><br />Thirdly, lose the temper. It isn’t as cool as you think it is. In fact, it isn’t cool at all. Save yourself some major life hurdles by working on it now. Why wait till you have already ruined your reputation, hurt your friends, and become a habitual pain mongerer before trying to change? Point number one will help with this.<br /><br />Next up: Your sister is really awesome. So is your mom. Don’t get all sweaty, they are still living, you don’t have to lose them before realizing how much you love them. They will both become your best friends. I know they aren’t really that great right now (well, your mom actually is, you just don’t know it), but they both change. So do you. <br /><br />Lastly, you are pretty awesome. Your thirty-five year old self remembers that 16 year old you with great fondness. You are full of color and life, and though it doesn’t completely go away, it does dull a bit. Keep being yourself, because you are pretty dang awesome.<br /><br />Oh, and one more thing. God will be even more important to you as you grow older. Your relationship will hit some rough parts, but hang on to your faith, one day it will be the most important thing you have. And with that comes the following warning, Your love for people is a gift from God, but never, ever, ever let it take place of your love for God Himself.<br /><br />Love Beckita. (your name given to you by Ecuadorian friends) (see I told you your life would ROCK!)Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-65880906455349930722010-12-07T07:12:00.003-06:002010-12-07T07:18:40.329-06:00Still Relevantwrote the following post a couple of years ago and want to repost, because I think it is timely. I also want to add that even though most of the world (who am I kidding: my 20 readers) were worried about my children, it turned out to be the second best Christmas the world has ever seen. I will post an update link at the end of the post.<br /><br /><blockquote>And it starts:<br />The count down for Christmas. Except this year I won't be party to it. I don't really care how many days there are until Christmas.<br /><br />Last week I cared. But this week I don't care.<br /><br />This week I am already ready for Christmas.<br /><br />You see, at first I thought, "This year I will make everyone's gifts." I hoarded links, and how-to's, and tutorials. I made a mental post it note list of everyone who "needed" gifts, and what I could give them.<br /><br />A Christmas checklist. Like every other year. Like every other family.<br /><br />And then I had a better idea. Why spend all this time frantically trying to make gifts that will never get completed? Just like every other year, I would be forced to run to the store- buying high priced, over priced crap for everyone. Why? For what reason? Did everyone really enjoy last years dollar store lotion?<br /><br />So, my new idea was just to buy the stuff now. I would shop ahead, and therefore put thought into each gift. I would think about the person, and buy gifts that they would really like. It was a good idea, right?<br /><br />But, then I had a better idea, helped out by a certain video I saw on youtube.<br /><br />Why not buy nothing at all? Seriously? I don't even remember what my husband got me last year, much less his Aunt so and so. The gifts I so carefully picked out for my children now sit neglected on a shelf. What is the purpose of all this gift frenzy, the money spending, the debt building, the guilt induced fear of not adding up to everyone else's generosity?<br /><br />So. I am opting out. No one is getting store bought gifts from me. No one is getting handmade gifts for me. Not my mother, not my pastor, not my son's Sunday School teacher... Not my children.<br /><br />And I can hear a worldwide gasp. "What about the magic and awe of Christmas for the children?"<br /><br />My response, " Under Control." My children will not open a single battery operated, plastic, hair growing, gun toting, miniature sized anything.<br /><br />Nothing they open will have a price tag, a return receipt, or those nasty little screws that drive parents nuts every Christmas day.<br /><br />They won't make a list, and if they do, I doubt their list will coincide with what they receive.<br /><br />Because Esther is NOT getting a white horse with a horn out its head.<br />And Weston is NOT getting the entire Star Wars Lego set. No matter how much he begs for it.<br />And Marcus- actually, I don't have a clue what he wants. But it probably is long and shoots bullets which he most definitely WILL NOT GET.<br /><br />As I travel to Ohio to spend Christmas with my parents and siblings. With my sister-in-law Carrie, and with my brother-in-law Jesse. With my little nieces- and my mischievous nephew, I will load my van with gifts wrapped in festive paper and tied with ribbon. Just like every other year. But this year, the gifts that I add to the tree will be far different than any other year.<br /><br />My Christmas revelation has not turned me into the grinch. It has, rather made me a bit more Claus like. And far more Christ like.<br /><br />Throughout the day, we will unwrap these gifts. The fist one will be a rectangular one. Under the paper and ribbons, our family will find my father's old black Bible, and he will open it and read the Christmas story. I will hold Esther on my lap and Marcus and Weston will be snuggled under my arm, and together we will have anew, the awe of that very first Christmas.<br />The Christmas story will remind us what Christmas giving is all about.<br /><br />And in that spirit, the children will grab another package. Inside the gift bag filled with confetti will be a bag of chocolate chips. Together we will make chocolate chip cookies. And Marmie will have to swat at the children's hands when they try to eat all the cookie dough.<br /><br />Maybe later, they will unwrap a movie. Not a new one from the store, but an old one. A favorite. Probably Star Wars because I am the only one who hates Star Wars. And we will pop corn the old fashioned way and have a family movie time.<br /><br />I will have wrapped our well worn games; the ones that we already know the rules to, and the ones that everyone loves. When they are unwrapped we will play them. Grandma too. We will even make her play Bang. If I have to watch Star Wars, she can be forced to sit through a rousing shoot em up game of Bang.<br /><br />I will wrap up a pair of socks for each kid, because we will need to keep our toes warm for our Christmas day walk, and maybe someone will stay home to make us hot cocoa for re-warming our frozen noses.<br /><br />This is not a new idea. It's one I learned a long time ago, but the video reminded me of it. <br /><br />On Christmas day, God gave me His heart. And I plan to celebrate that gift by giving mine.<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/eVqqj1v-ZBU&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/eVqqj1v-ZBU&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />Want to join me?<br /><br />As this post gets read by more people and passed around, please comment and add your ideas of what could be wrapped and placed under the tree. Together, we can make this the second best Christmas this universe has ever seen.</blockquote><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://toasty-toes.blogspot.com/2009/11/its-starting-to-look-lot-like-christmas.html">UPDATE ON THE GREAT CHRISTMAS EXPERIENCE</a>Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-13443669130031176582010-11-22T07:34:00.005-06:002010-11-23T06:41:05.973-06:00Extraño MuchoA few weeks ago, with the help of my oldest son, I realized something:<br /><br />No matter where I am, for the rest of my life, I will be missing something.<br />Right now, what I miss is obvious. Dr. Pepper, chats with my best girls, marshmallow dipping parties, my church, my mommy, holidays spent with families...<br /><br />When we go back to the states, I will have a whole new set of "missing". My best gal Vivi, my new church, The smiles of my kids in Sunday School, the cafe, chifles, empenadas, Gloria and Irma (my grandmas away from home).<br /><br />I have a new life now. One of welcoming back those things I missed and saying goodbye to things I will miss again.<br /><br />And I wouldn't give it up for the world. Not at all. <br /><br />But, today, I will chat a bit about that thing I am missing the most in this moment.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW0V9Yna0sxy4bW1U02S8fTGwndxyu7farpwpVjxN0lcys0voxhj_HjA06UHMeVRb5plQ1stJRSpU8lhz77hp6lEKcc1o1P8ztyWgkKqnzdT9wWWnZrG9EiZ7nPwbidsV-t67Ohw/s1600/thanks+5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW0V9Yna0sxy4bW1U02S8fTGwndxyu7farpwpVjxN0lcys0voxhj_HjA06UHMeVRb5plQ1stJRSpU8lhz77hp6lEKcc1o1P8ztyWgkKqnzdT9wWWnZrG9EiZ7nPwbidsV-t67Ohw/s400/thanks+5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542367342368251186" /></a><br />Thanksgiving with family. You see, Dustan has a HUGE family and Thanksgiving is just not Thanksgiving unless they are all in one place. It's loud, it's laughter, it's young ones crying. It's Aunties holding babies so mommies can play games, and people eating. And eating. And eating. Until the men have a contest with all the pregnant women to see who has the biggest belly. The men always win.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TOpxufdzwII/AAAAAAAACtw/canZzXasB2E/s1600/thanks%2B4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TOpxufdzwII/AAAAAAAACtw/canZzXasB2E/s400/thanks%2B4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542367334967263362" /></a><br />Every year there is a gingerbread factory. Tables for miles filled with bowl after bowl of candy. Sticky fingers. Mouths dripping with red hots. Creativity and cooperation. Big cousins holding walls for tiny cousins. Uncles giving prizes hidden in paint cans. Chimneys with Ivy. Logs made of toostie rolls. Candy horses. Candy puppies. Children sucking on bottles of frosting. SWEET goodness of fellowship.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TOpxuFDh8-I/AAAAAAAACto/1Q3mOrAq2iY/s1600/thanks%2B3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TOpxuFDh8-I/AAAAAAAACto/1Q3mOrAq2iY/s400/thanks%2B3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542367327877723106" /></a><br />It's amazing stuff. Outrageously amazing. It's stuff of fairytales and novels. But, every year, for the Hester family, it's just plain real life. Hours of games. Snacking in between. Showing off those gingerbread houses. Big cousins doting on baby cousins. Great Aunts rocking great nieces. Children dancing. Adults playing dominoes. And cards. And Catan. Children joining in.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TOpxt_sSd1I/AAAAAAAACtg/uBuWmXB-vZw/s1600/thanks%2B2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TOpxt_sSd1I/AAAAAAAACtg/uBuWmXB-vZw/s400/thanks%2B2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542367326438061906" /></a><br />And I miss it this year. Something terrible. A bit of an ache, that I have learned to deal with. My kids have learned to accept as normal, that constant missing of things once normal has become a new normal. But, we all, every single one of us, are full of joy in the midst of this "Missing".<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TOpxram4cAI/AAAAAAAACtY/gUlRAckBl9U/s1600/Thnks%2B1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TOpxram4cAI/AAAAAAAACtY/gUlRAckBl9U/s400/Thnks%2B1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542367282123534338" /></a><br />Because, we know. We know that the year after next, when we are in the middle of a candy house frenzy, a whirlwind of games, a house full of people...<br /><br />That our hearts will be missing our home in Ecuador. A house in Gonzonama filled with missionary friends from all over the world who have gathered together to fill our hearts full of love. To give our hearts, missing home, a shot of pain killer. A dose of friendship, fellowship, games, and good food.<br /><br />Even a turkey. And outrageously expensive turkey. But a real honest to goodness Thanksgiving turkey.<br /><br />So. My heart is full twice over. Full of missing what usually is, and full of joy for what is now.<br /><br />Gracias mi Dios por mi vida en este momento. Gracias para mis amigos en Estados Unidos, and en mi hogar nuevo. Gracias por todos. GRACIAS en este tiempo pr gracias. Gracia siempre.<br /><br />(My spanish leaves much to be desired.)Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-22191381415502213122010-11-19T07:36:00.002-06:002010-11-19T07:41:43.289-06:00Visual Complaining<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TOZ9n7Fa7oI/AAAAAAAACtQ/5sLsnUDD_1c/s1600/Dust%2Bbunnies.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TOZ9n7Fa7oI/AAAAAAAACtQ/5sLsnUDD_1c/s400/Dust%2Bbunnies.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541254516354772610" /></a><br /><br />I have complained to several people about the dust here. It's not a real complaint. I have a floor. That is dirty. I could have a floor that WAS dirt!<br /><br />Anyhow, I thought I would snap a pic of my daily sweep. This was done on a morning after our housekeeper swept and mopped AND I had swept the night before.<br /><br />Nothing is airtight here so dirt and dust blow in through the windows and doors.<br /><br />I have a confession: I like this. It almost feels like we are living in a tent. Anytime there is a breeze, we feel that breeze. It smells like the outdoors. Like the bakery down the street. Like the cows. Like the wet dog. Like the river. I love it.<br /><br />Despite all the dust/dirt that is impossible to get rid of.Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-52632375655402675932010-11-09T06:32:00.002-06:002010-11-09T06:39:19.918-06:00Today<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TNk_fBT9B4I/AAAAAAAACtI/xUyqRfPRhk4/s1600/IMGP5177.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TNk_fBT9B4I/AAAAAAAACtI/xUyqRfPRhk4/s400/IMGP5177.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537527018989356930" /></a><br /><br /><br />Today: (Is my day off)<br /><br />I am going to move my furniture. AGAIN. (To the set-up in this pic, because I like it this way.)<br /><br />I am going to listen to a sermon. In English.<br /><br />I am going to watch the last two episodes of Burn Notice. They took me 48 hours to download. (season 3)<br /><br />I am going to re-cook the granola. It came out chewy instead of crunchy. My children have informed me that they prefer crunchy.<br /><br />I am going to bring all my laundry off the line before it rains on my clean clothes.<br /><br />I am going to organize my linen closet. There is a tower of towels in there, waiting to kill anyone who opens the closet.<br /><br />I am going to read some more of my book. "44 Scotland Steet" (At least I think that is the name).<br /><br />I am going to drink a capuchino during my meeting today.<br /><br />I am going to send an email to Chandra to remind her to send me an email with the recipe for cookies that are made with baby formula. These are to give to beggar children who come to my door for food.Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-35400877045752724232010-09-14T13:41:00.003-05:002010-09-14T13:43:31.820-05:00Max Denson is a WinnerWho is Max? I think I know, but since I am not sure, PLEASE pretty please shoot me an email at bs king 75 @ yahoodotcom<br /><br />Of course, you might want to reformat that email without spaces and change out that dot for a . <br /><br />Also, because of regulations, I needed to change my prior post.Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-18384274214060550342010-09-13T19:07:00.003-05:002010-09-13T19:22:24.003-05:00Some people should stop growing. It costs me too much money.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TI69CbxjkOI/AAAAAAAACso/ea8YZ9ekmqE/s1600/Marcus+milk+mouth.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TI69CbxjkOI/AAAAAAAACso/ea8YZ9ekmqE/s400/Marcus+milk+mouth.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516554443088433378" /></a><br />I bought Marcus a new pair of pants three weeks ago. They were so long on him that the vendedora told me about a tienda that would hem them for me for just a couple of dollars.<br /><br />I never got around to having them hemmed, and when he put them on for church, I noticed that not only did they no longer need to be hemmed, but they were a tad short!!!!<br /><br />Me: Marcus! Ar you crazy?????!!!!!<br /><br />Marcus: (pops his head up in surprise) Huh?<br /><br />Me: You REALLY need to stop growing. It costs too much to clothe you.<br /><br />Marcus: Easy solution mom. Feed me cola and let me stop eating my vegetables. You'll save money on clothes AND veggies.<br /><br /><br /><br />I love him. But I guess we will let him grow. cause what kind of bad mother would I be if I let him get by drinking soda and not eating veggies????<br /><br /><br />PS. Tonight he asked to talk to me. (second talk in two nights. The first one was so deep it was disturbing). <br /><br />"I have decided that I want to be a writer when I grow up. I think I really want to write Christian books to help people understand God. Oh, and I decided I don't want to wait until then to serve him. I want to start now. I think the best way to do that will be to help out around the house or at El Sendero if I am needed. So. If you need anything, just ask. Except dishes. I won't do dishes."<br /><br />My Marcus. The growing boy. In more ways than one.<br /><br />PS #2: Some Ecuadorian life:<br />We visited a small finka (farm) where there were about half a dozen cows. The farmer allowed the calves to suckle a bit and the shooed them off, squirted some fresh milk into a cup, added a spoonful of sugar and gave the kids some to drink.<br /><br />It was warm, sweet, and the only way to get fresher would have been... never mind. bad image. Haha.<br /><br />And, after he had filled his bucket, he allowed the calves to return to be fed. It was a sweet kind of day for us.Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-20793619203151366592010-08-28T10:39:00.002-05:002010-08-28T10:58:45.442-05:00A to-do list from the equator:1. Wash some of the filthy windows. August was a WINDY month (to put it lightly) and the windows are a muddy, messy, blechy brown mess. This will prove to be much more difficult than thought because my windows have bars. The bars have spikes. No one will want to steal the grime on my windows!!!<br /><br />2. Clean out the green garbage. Loja has a great garbage system and it requires multiple cans. The green can is for organic waste, and in order to keep it separate, I have a small pail with a lid that sits on my counter for all the food scraps. Its a compost container of sorts. and sometimes it gets rather... disgusting. Today is the day to clean it out.<br /><br />3. Haircuts for the boys. A haircut here is about 2.00. But, Dustan insists on saving the money and taking a razor to the boys hair. Last time I razed them, I made their ears bleed, so I am now without a hairdressing job. Dustan has taken over. I can hear Weston crying upstairs. Dear grandma, please send 2.00 for haircuts.<br /><br />4. Move my furniture. Last Saturday I woke up and declared "This is the day I will change my furniture." It never got done. So, it must be done today. MUST. See, I get in a funk if my furniture is too stable and unchanging. I NEED change. My very soul needs to spice things up by moving things around. After being married to me for 13 years, Dustan has finally given up on coming home and finding his living room, bedroom, or kitchen dishes in the same place. So... today... I will move my furniture.<br /><br />5. Walk to the store, tienda, or market and find food for my family. We have just returned from a week at our annual spiritual life conference and we ate ourselves to the bone before we left. Unless we want to eat Marshmallows for diner (leftover from smores), I had better get us some food.<br /><br />6. Jerry-rig clothes line. Since we spent a week away from home, our laundry is... well... bigger than the mountain in front of my home. My lines are full and I have several loads left. Whenever this happens, I use brooms, pipes, misc sticks, prop them up on chairs and wipe my hands, pant myself on the back, and congratulate myself on my ingenuity. Little things. Right?<br /><br />7. Make granola. Because my boys (including Dustan) think that they will experience daily death without granola for breakfast. I make six gallons at a time, and it lasts far too short a time.<br /><br />8. Call my mother. Because I miss her.Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-53832728667112912322010-08-21T11:27:00.013-05:002010-09-14T13:39:59.251-05:00Taste the Rainbow: Hannah's storyHannah Banana. She was something else. When she was little, I was a teenager, and she liked to follow me around, chattering like a monkey on steroids. <br /><br />One time, I just needed a break. People often needed a break from Hannah. Like I said, she was something else. When she wanted something, she wouldn’t let go. What Hannah wanted more than anything else was attention, devotion, and love. Anyhow, I was saying... I needed a break. So, I found a closet in Granny’s house. And I squeezed in with all the shoes, bags of brand-new underwear, slips, and who knows what else (my grandmother collected things for emergencies. You never knew when someone would need a slip), and just sat in the dark and quiet.<br /><br />It wasn’t long. Maybe thirty seconds, before my solitude was interrupted by a curly headed boy. Hannah’s brother Matt.<br /><br />“What are you doing?” he asked.<br />“Hiding from Hannah.” I answered with utmost honestly.<br />Matt climbed on my lap and declared he also needed a break.<br /><br />Hannah kept up that intense energy throughout her childhood, but she blossomed into a gorgeous young girl, eager to be loved, and devoted to making the world a beautiful place.<br /><br />The one thing that strikes me most about Hannah is how much she loved to make things beautiful. She loved hair-dos, she loved makeup, she loved fashion.<br /><br />But Hannah wasn’t artificial. She was just simply gorgeous, and she wanted to share that beauty with everyone.<br /><br />One time she told me I should always wear bangs. “Here.” She said, after taking a pair of my kitchen scissors to the front of my hair. “Here. Isn’t that so much better?” “And you really shouldn’t leave the house without mascara. It makes your eyes so beautiful.”<br /><br />I was an adult when she gave me beauty advice. Married already, with two children, and broiled over with the fugliness of early motherhood.<br /><br />Hannah was 15. High-strung, slighty flightly, but with an inner kindness that sought out prettiness wherever she could find it. Hannah, made me feel beautiful. And I wore my hair with bangs for years afterwards.<br /><br />Hannah tried to make everyone feel beautiful. It’s what she did. It’s who she was.<br /><br />Hannah loved sparkly things. She loved rainbows, and music, guitars, her family, me, my children, and life. Because those things were beautiful to her.<br /><br />I would venture to say that now her life is so full of beauty that she can’t even stand it. I bet she is downright blinded from basking in the glow of her gorgeous new home.<br /><br />Because Hannah lives in a mansion now. Built for her by her Heavenly Father. She is prancing (because that is what she did- prance) down streets glowing with gold. <br /><br /><br />Hannah was killed in 2006. She was in an automobile accident and she wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.<br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_ojF8xC4tqk?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_ojF8xC4tqk?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br />Seatbelt promotions are not new. But “Buckle up for Hannah” focuses on teenagers. Because teenagers don’t think about that one time they slip the seatbelt off to root around in their purse, look for something under the seat, or scootch over just a bit to snuggle with a boyfriend.<br /><br />Teenagers need a reminder of the importance of buckling up, not just for “almost all of the time”, but for every second they are in a moving car.<br /><br />The one time Hannah did not buckle up, she died. And her family wants to help other families, by telling her story.<br /><br />Buckle Up For Hannah has been able to pass new safety laws for teenagers, put reminders in the form of bumper stickers on cars across the nation, and raise awareness to teenagers by telling them Hannah’s story.<br /><br />Now, my family has another opportunity to raise awareness. It’s through a contest and we need votes.<br /><br />Here is the link. Please vote everyday! EVERY day!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.sponsafier.com/share/368170">CLICK RIGHT HERE TO VOTE TODAY AND EVERY DAY</a><br />For some reason, the link chooses to be difficult sometimes. While I try to fix it. Hannah's car is under causes and is on the second page of most popular. It is easily recognizable with a rainbow seatbelt!<br /><br /><br />Vote away.<br /><br />And please, buckle up.Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-13203827467993913152010-08-10T14:08:00.004-05:002010-08-10T14:19:34.671-05:00Feeding my skin<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvCz95coek8vUEvJ4hy2zZXwV9AbEsfkW8pYph-vGyRNb__9zTbOQMVxP2fsrOyfyPvLRxFIlqox-tfeFB2-m-VHNOWHaZh0cHlpnBjnnTVpvn94-1Blzxv5UtrtBe8P8AG_6BSQ/s1600/Becka+in+a+Tub.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvCz95coek8vUEvJ4hy2zZXwV9AbEsfkW8pYph-vGyRNb__9zTbOQMVxP2fsrOyfyPvLRxFIlqox-tfeFB2-m-VHNOWHaZh0cHlpnBjnnTVpvn94-1Blzxv5UtrtBe8P8AG_6BSQ/s400/Becka+in+a+Tub.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503861131037921650" /></a><br />That's me. In my bathtub when we first moved in. I don't usually wear clothes in the bathtub. However, I also don't usually post pictures of myself on the web while in the tub. <br />I can't tell you how ecstatic I was to find out our house had a tub. Tubs are unusual in Loja. In fact, I don't know of a single other person who has one.<br />So... I am grateful, even if I have to kiss my knees while taking a hot bath (also incredibly grateful for hot water. Many houses do not have it).<br />Because bathtubs are rare, luxury bath items are non-existent. Bubble baths, bath oils, and the like are no where to be found.<br /><br /><br />So I made my own. I altered (slightly) a recipe I found online. It was like taking a bath in food. Really nice smelling food that made my skin ultra soft.<br /><br /><br />Peaches and Cream bath oil<br />Mix in a bowl<br /><br />3/4 cup of plain yogurt<br />1/4 cup olive oil<br />1 tsp vineger<br />3 large eggs<br />2 TBS melted butter<br />1 cup of milk<br />1 cup of peach juiceBeckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-12563712654425696812010-08-09T14:43:00.006-05:002010-08-09T15:06:52.808-05:00Paula Dean<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TGBapcBYxUI/AAAAAAAACr4/_8JdsI8b7Z0/s1600/weston+in+a+basket.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TGBapcBYxUI/AAAAAAAACr4/_8JdsI8b7Z0/s400/weston+in+a+basket.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503498412589892930" /></a><br /><br />Dustan: I don't even know who Paula Dean is.<br /><br />Weston: What <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">IS</span></span> a pualadean?<br /><br />Me: It's some kind of fruit. (I learned my parenting skills from Calvin's dad)<br /><br />Weston: I think you are wrong. I thinks it is a kind of soldier. I wish I was a pauladean.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TGBfwdnWSiI/AAAAAAAACsA/hviJsMpIKRs/s1600/calvin.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 126px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TGBfwdnWSiI/AAAAAAAACsA/hviJsMpIKRs/s400/calvin.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503504030834772514" /></a>Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-70011152804142044722010-08-09T13:55:00.003-05:002010-08-09T14:06:01.418-05:00A cookbook for the DadDustan is having to do far more cooking than he used to. Because my work at the cafe is in the evenings, he almost always needs to make the dinner meal, and I often need help for the lunch meal as well. <br /><br />Dustan, bless his heart, is not a cook. He is, however, willing. And more than that, when he isn't overwhelmed by all the decisions, he actually enjoys cooking.<br /><br />So, in an effort to help us both out, I am compiling a photographic journal of our meals. I am using <a href="http://www.picnik.com/app">Picnik.com</a> to edit the photos and to add simple recipe instructions. <br /><br />My plan is to have them printed and then to add them to a scrapbook page with helpful tips. Like: <br />"Weston won't touch corn with a ten foot pole"<br />"Marcus would rather eat bunny eyeballs than swallow a small piece of avocado"<br />"You don't really have to add every ingredient. If you don't have cheese, just leave it off."<br />"If you don't add cheese, Esther will see no reason to eat at all."<br /><br />You know- that stuff all mommies know. I will add it to the page, just so he has a reference until he figures it all out.<br /><br />I also figure that it will leave me space to add alterations when I can. I make alterations automatically. If I am out of mayo, I add yogurt. If I don't have taco seasoning, I know that I can use a variety of other spices to make up for it. Dustan hasn't been in the kitchen to figure all that out. <br /><br />Without further ado, here are my first two recipes for our book, glamorously named:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Wash the Dishes When You are Done!</span> (It truly is a book of helpful hints)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TGBPWT6-ZDI/AAAAAAAACro/GnuxwEKz444/s1600/Southwest+Lettuce+wraps.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 202px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TGBPWT6-ZDI/AAAAAAAACro/GnuxwEKz444/s400/Southwest+Lettuce+wraps.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503485989370094642" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TGBPWOaKSSI/AAAAAAAACrg/9wablmuL4O8/s1600/Southwestern+Burger+and+Rice.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 202px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TGBPWOaKSSI/AAAAAAAACrg/9wablmuL4O8/s400/Southwestern+Burger+and+Rice.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503485987890284834" /></a>Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-7635537120130147772010-08-05T15:39:00.010-05:002010-08-05T16:12:12.439-05:00Rainy Day= Cooking Day.Loja is a cold city. One wouldn;t think it- but it is truly very cold here. There are no heaters in Loja. we just dress warmly and suck it up. However, last night was the single coldest I have ever been. I laughed when I was lying in bed thinking that if I had been in the US and my heater had been broken on a night like last night, we would have gotten a hotel room.<br /><br />Living without options has changed the way I think about living. Period. No heater? Live with it. Shoes falling apart? Take them to be repaired. Short full of holes? try not to look at yourself after you get dressed. Clothes still wet after three days on a line? Wear the same dirty clothes until they finally dry. City having a shortage on gas? Cry while taking a cold shower in the frigid morning (or night) temps. (I didn't have to do that. I forfeited my showers instead. Peeeuuuwww)<br /><br />Anyhow... It's raining today. No sun makes for a cold day after a long cold night, and because I didn't have Spanish class, I decided to declare it a cooking day.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TFsiaZR0m-I/AAAAAAAACrM/td1tk5GHSvs/s1600/CD1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TFsiaZR0m-I/AAAAAAAACrM/td1tk5GHSvs/s400/CD1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502029206620773346" /></a><br />Tomatoes taking a boiling hot bath. I was jealous. I soaked them for a minute or so and then transfered them to cold water. The skins peeled right off. Easy Peasy lemon Squeezy. (My Spanish tutor LOVES when I say that.)<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TFsiPcIcPmI/AAAAAAAACq8/N9ERCoodMng/s1600/CD3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TFsiPcIcPmI/AAAAAAAACq8/N9ERCoodMng/s400/CD3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502029018408173154" /></a> <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TFsiKVw9i0I/AAAAAAAACq0/RvKsXPWFyVw/s1600/CD4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TFsiKVw9i0I/AAAAAAAACq0/RvKsXPWFyVw/s400/CD4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502028930799733570" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TFsiDbD1jaI/AAAAAAAACqs/PMP5UypGaiw/s1600/CD5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TFsiDbD1jaI/AAAAAAAACqs/PMP5UypGaiw/s400/CD5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502028811961994658" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TFsh5e8QelI/AAAAAAAACqk/4qMAK7xoKaY/s1600/CD6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TFsh5e8QelI/AAAAAAAACqk/4qMAK7xoKaY/s400/CD6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502028641205254738" /></a><br /><br />After being frustrated with my broken budget after making granola, I kind of made up my own method. However, it is amost identical to <a href="http://www.versagrain.com/granola-recipe.html">THIS ONE</a>. Scroll down for a budget friendly method. I do exactly like it says, use what I have and can afford. <br /><br />For the Pasta Sauce, I used <a href="http://goddesshobbies.blogspot.com/2009/08/preserving-food-roasted-tomato-sauce.html">Val's recipe</a> for inspiration. Next time I plan to make it exactly as written. Mine is yummy, but IMAGINE that roasted tomato taste! I don't have a blender (or the 100.00 that they cost here) but the next time I spend the day making pasta sauce, I will barter to borrow one. One blender for a jar of pasta sounds reasonable to me!<br /><br />I only have two small quart sized bags left (and they are as valuable as gold here) so I froze the diced tomatoes on old butter containers. We save EVERYTHING. And what I don't save, someone picks out of my garbage. One of these days I am going to do a blog post on the Ecuadorian version of recycling. They have a tremendous understanding on the re-use portion. Anyhow, I plan to use the diced tomatoes in soups. <br /><br />I will use some of my precious gallon sized bags (because I have more of them) for freezing the sauce.<br /><br />Next freezing cold day, I am hoping to use all the black bananas in my freezer. Any ideas?Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-29297956050633861922010-07-26T10:24:00.002-05:002010-07-26T10:39:58.719-05:00Learning Spanish is hard. REALLY hard!But I have found a few things that are invaluable in helping, and many can be used with youngsters. i thought I would leave a review in case some of you would like to learn Spanish. you know. SO YOU WILL COME VISIT ME!!!!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.coffeebreakspanish.com/">Coffee Break Español</a>: This is a series of podcasts done by Mark and Kara who are actually from Scotland, but who are enthusiastic and capable teachers. Actually, Kara is a student of Spanish and learns right along side the listener. My kids have picked up a TREMENDOUS amount of Spanish. <br />Bonus: <span style="font-weight:bold;">FREE</span> You can't get better than free. We are on lesson eight. Hurry and catch up.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0071463380/ref=pd_lpo_k2_dp_sr_1?pf_rd_p=486539851&pf_rd_s=lpo-top-stripe-1&pf_rd_t=201&pf_rd_i=B000IAZ9OE&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_r=11YE0PDQCYWAVT86SZQH">Easy Spanish: Step-by-Step</a>: This book is also a great workbook functions as a building block mechanism for learning spanish. As you learn how to use articles, you also build your vocabulary by practicing with nouns. The next chapter adds adjectives and by chapter three you have some verbs down which allows you to make functional sentences. <br />I would say that a child would be able to use this from age 10 and up. But, it is highly effective for adults as well. Dustan and I are both using it and filling in some gaps that we have. <br />It's a great book and I highly recommend it.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.livemocha.com/">Live Mocha</a>: This is an interactive community of language learners. It's like facebook for people who want to learn a new language. The benefit of this is that if you learn a language in a vaccum you will get all dusty. Haha. No, really, it is helpful to communicate with native speakers and this allows you to do that. <br />It also has lessons that will help you build on what you are learning from the podcasts and from the workbook resource. <br />Bonus: <span style="font-weight:bold;">IT'S FREE</span> (they do have a paid membership that gives you more resources that i am highly tempted to pay for)<br />This site has better reviews than Rosetta Stone (which I don't recommend), and it is WAY WAY cheaper.<br /><br />These will get you started, but I plan to come back with some other reviews and tips. If you have any questions, be sure to ask and I will make sure to feature them in a future post.Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-15404262469040935032010-07-24T10:45:00.003-05:002010-07-24T10:49:09.721-05:00Guess what we have?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TEsKyF8y_tI/AAAAAAAACp0/50EgGDL3TdI/s1600/rat.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TEsKyF8y_tI/AAAAAAAACp0/50EgGDL3TdI/s400/rat.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497499625842736850" /></a><br /><br /><br />Auggghhhhh.<br /><br />Okay, so we don't have THAT one anymore. And hopefully our new cat will scare off any others that might want to join in on the fun.<br /><br />BTW, that is a RAT trap. Ugghhh, yuckkkkk, and eeeeeuuuuwwwww.<br /><br />Also, Dustan made me post this. If I had any readers left, I bet I don't anymore.<br /><br />And as another side note, we are now overrun with animals. We have Scooter the rabbit, Daisy the dog, Skywalker the parakeet, and now- Scout, the kitten who better eat rats or she gets to move to the mountain and find her food there.Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35349958.post-53707575397640192072010-06-09T12:12:00.004-05:002010-06-09T12:34:30.822-05:00The story of the not-so-ugly-plant<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TA_MVILV1TI/AAAAAAAACpg/kvhglZBpHd0/s1600/IMG_1347.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TA_MVILV1TI/AAAAAAAACpg/kvhglZBpHd0/s400/IMG_1347.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480823934877553970" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TA_MUstMMqI/AAAAAAAACpY/6lQr-K-Xp0I/s1600/IMG_1342.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_UgGC4qt5ZBA/TA_MUstMMqI/AAAAAAAACpY/6lQr-K-Xp0I/s400/IMG_1342.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480823927503336098" /></a><br /><br />My missionary friend Anna went with me to the marketplace.<br /> I saw the plant. <br />I fell in love. <br />I told myself "no". It was a pretty expensive plant... <br />But then I kept thinking about it. Eventually, we found our way back to the plant.<br /><br />"Isn't it a beautiful plant?" I asked Anna.<br />Anna tried to be polite. But, Anna is a very honest person. She looked at me and said, "Well, it is not my taste, but I can see you like it." (read this in an Australian accent)<br /><br />It was true. I did really like it.<br /><br />So I bought the plant, the pot, the dirt and with Anna's help I hauled the whole load into a taxi. The whole way home, I kept thinking how much I loved my new curly-headed plant.<br /><br />When Dustan saw us, he raised his eyebrow. "What's that?" he asked.<br />"It's a plant", I responded. "Don't you like it?"<br />"Well...." (I must interrupt to say my husband lacks the tact that Anna has) "It's ummmm.... interesting."<br />Anna laughed. "I tried to tell her."<br /><br />My poor plant. So unloved by everyone but me.<br />Dustan curled his lip and wrinkled his nose. "It goes outside? Right?"<br />Anna just laughed. Again.<br /><br /><br />Our discussion brought on the curiosity of Irma, the lady who cleans my house twice a week. In Spanish, Dustan tried to tell Irma that the plant was not very pretty and should be outside.<br /><br />The whole world was ganging up on me and my plant!<br /><br />Only, Irma declared the plant was VERY BEAUTIFUL, and started to drag it inside. <br /><br />Dustan gave in, and picked it up.<br /><br />Irma and I stood back and inspected its radiance and glory. "Muy Bonita", she declared. "Si. A mi me gusta!" I said back.<br /><br />Dustan thinks we are both loca and Anna still laughs when I talk about how she tried to squirm her way out of telling me I had purchased a very ugly plant.<br /><br />So, what do you think?<br />Ugly?<br />Unique?<br />Gorgeous?<br />Perfect for Becka?<br /><br /><br />Plant: 8.00<br />Pot: 8.00<br />stand: 2.50 (was 3 but she gave me .50 off. What a bargain!)<br />dirt: 1.50Beckahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02314199834238208420noreply@blogger.com2