My "I don't care if it's Vegetarian!" Vegetarian Sandwich

Ok, so I'm finally willing to admit that meat and sugar aren't really working for me.  So, I'm trying to cut them out.  That said, I went to Sprouts tonight (for those of you who don't know what Sprouts is, I pity you.  Oh, and It's a health-foods/whole foods store.) and I just had to have every vegetable I saw!  Vegetables  never looked so sexy to me!  I had to have them all!  So, after spending as much as I would normally spend for a weeks work of groceries on what was supposed to be "a quick trip for some lunch stuff" and, therefore, putting on my best puppy face for Mr., I whipped out the veggies (and the new loaf of GF bread!) and it was like they took control of me!  My hands flew! Vegetables crunch!  And this sandwich was born...

The "I don't care if it's Vegetarian!" Vegetarian Sandwich 
 

• 2 pieces of your favorite bread, lightly toasted (I use Rudi's Gluten Free)
• Mayonnaise (please use real mayonnaise)
• 1 shmere (spelling?) of plain, cooked, mashed sweet potato (I used leftovers I had cooked in the microwave for lunch)
• 1 handful of sprouts, your choice (I used alfalfa)
• 1 handful of leaf lettuce (not iceburg)
• 2 spoonfuls of fresh salsa (I used Wholey Salsa Original Medium)

 
Directions: Really?  It's a sandwich.  Spread/assemble/top/sandwich (hence the name!) and LOOOOOOVE!

Jesus Made my Peanuts

On a completely unrelated and potentially awkward topic to those who are not a brazen as I, I want to share with you something my 4 1/2 year old son said this morning that impressed me.

Being a young child he is curious about his environment and himself, including his...well..."peanuts."  I assume I don't need to elaborate here.  He's not obsessive.  We discouraged "self-discovery," to put it nicely, and he doesn't walk around with his hands down his pants, but yesterday he did fashion his blankets into a curious position around his hips and parade himself around the house showcasing his latest creation.  *sigh*

"No Baby," I told him. "That's nasty." 
"It's just my blankets, not my real peanuts!" he protested.

I tried to explain to him that 'peanuts' are good, but we don't make jokes about them or show them off to other people, but the duration of his attention span made me doubt that he got it.

But then this morning, I guess maybe he proved me wrong.  When we were getting dressed he made some other comment about his 'peanuts', I forget exactly what, but when I began to respond with another round of, "Our peanuts are good but..." he cut me off and started into his own mini lecture:

"Our peanuts are good, and Jesus made them for us but we don't play with them or let other people see them?"

 

SCORE! 

I just think to myself, "He's got the beginning of a healthy understanding of his body and his sexuality."  I know, understanding sexuality and a 4 1/2 don't usually belong anywhere near the same sentence, but it starts early.  If he thinks his peanuts are nasty or bad, where would that leave him in 20 years?  Thinking they are amazing and tons of fun to play with is probably just as bad - just on the opposite swing of the pendulum.  I think he's hit it right on the money. 

 

Now, if he can just hold on to it for 20 more years.   *sigh*

You're Not Alone

Do you ever feel like you are the only one who is going through what you are going through? 

 

No.  No I don't.

 

Ok. Yes, but only...all the time.

 

Mentally I know I can't be, or I know I have been told I'm not, but since my trials are new to me I humbly surmise that I am the only one who has ever experienced them ever.  Since I am coming to new realizations about my life, I figure I must be the first one to have come to them. 

 

It's really nice to know I'm not, and to realize I don't have to figure it all out blindly on my own.

 

Hands Free Mama is a great blog I just discovered that is all about the little steps you can take to put the Life back into your life, and bring you back to your family.  I also follow them on facebook, and look forward to their daily "devotional" (my words) for inspiration. 

 

Today they posted something that hit home.  "I'm not alone," it said.

 

Here's the full post - "Dig for Your Life" - on their website. 

Jellyfish Syndrome

Why is it the husbands I know (hi sweetie!) love to come home and just pick at their wives?  Why is that?  You go through your whole day doing your thing, living your life, making hundreds of responsible decisions without them blowing up in your face, and then once Mr. comes home he has to examine your every move under a microscope, pick apart your every action like he's got a stick and he's poking at a...a...jellyfish!  Like he's found a dead jellyfish on the beach and he's poking at it trying to figure out what in the world it is.  I'm not a dead jellyfish!!! Right?  You know who and what I am!!!

Right?

I mean, what was all that dating about if it wasn't to get to know each other?  I was totally myself on all of those dates too! We swam, talked, shopped, hung out, kissed (a lot), texted, shared.  I showed him the real me. Didn't he like me?  Did he just marry me hoping to change me or what?

Right?

And it's not like I'm totally different now that we're married.  Now, I wasn't fully prepared for married life - not in the least.  And don't even get me started about children.  In fact, if I were completely honest with myself I would have to say that I'm entirely inadequate for the job.  I have no problem admitting that.  I had no idea what I was doing.  No, I was not built for this job at all.  But, with the help of Pinterest and the 'Bloggershpere' I've managed envelop myself in the protective jellyfish, I mean cocoon, of self-help, how-to and DIY sites and immerge the glue gun toting, proactive homeschooling, Cordon Bleu quality, run-three-miles-in-the-snow and teach-my-sunday-lesson-complete-with-custom-Circuit-handout wife and mother butterfly I knew God made me to be.

Isn't that enough???

SO WHY DOES MY HUSBAND KEEP POKING AT ME?

IT'S JUST ME!

DOESN'T HE KNOW ME AT ALL?!?!?!