The Joy of New Habits

I'm sure you noticed that Book Woman Blog has been completely silent since Christmas time. Well, I was pretty busy with a few things. The most time consuming activity I took part in was being baptized by fire into the world of teaching. BY FIRE.

Yeah, I was a 3rd grade teacher for 3 months--and did I mention I've never been trained as a teacher before? Lord, have mercy. I have so many anecdotes and bits of wisdom I learned from my time with silly kids and awesome teachers, and I hope to share them all here eventually!

But today I will just share some simply joy with you. I'm rejoicing because I took the last couple weeks to focus on making new habits, and I am finally beginning to notice the positivism they are bringing to my life.

When I was suddenly in a full time teaching job in January, I quickly developed a routine fueled by my exhaustion. I felt like I had no time. I woke up, rushed to get to work early enough to hurriedly prepare things for the day, used planning time to hurry some more, rushed to my car through the rain after school, rushed through my homework, ate dinner, etc. etc. etc., and fell into bed where I stared at my phone until I went to bed. I didn't read. I didn't write. I didn't exercise. I would sometimes sit on the couch for an hour and watch "This is Us" and sob before heading to sleep.

I felt like I had no time for the things that I liked to do, but recently I realized that I indeed had the time, but I was filling it with terrible habits--like getting on Facebook after school or in bed, or turning on the TV for background noise and getting sucked into a show.

I deleted my Facebook app from my phone, and lately, instead of collapsing into bed and immediately getting on my phone until my eyeballs burn and then going to sleep, I've plugged my phone in and picked up my book. I've read far past my bedtime, and my dreams have been extremely vivid--like they used to be when I habitually read before bed each night.

I wake up just as tired as I did before. I wake up to the same constant drizzle and dark, cloudy skies as before. (Though the sun is starting to come up earlier lately--hurrah!) But I go to sleep in the mood that only a book can put me in, and it makes waking up easier! Even if I'm still tired no matter what time my alarm goes off.

And instead of again checking Facebook for 10 minutes before dragging myself out of bed, I open up my handy iPhone and click on a nifty Rosary app I found, and I pray along with that for 20 minutes while I get ready.

Starting the day so peacefully has been a life changer and a life saver. I don't feel so rushed in the mornings. I get up at the same time...but I actually have time to make breakfast now. I don't feel like a crazy woman running out of the house anymore. I play soccer fetch with Delta to her giddy delight, and cuddle Bobo before tucking both those pups into their kennels for the day.

I can only attribute this sense of unrushed peace in my mornings to the grace of prayer.

I couldn't have made it the last few weeks without making these small changes in my daily routine at home.

Start your day in peace, end it with a good book that you can't put down, and perhaps you'll feel as joyful as I have lately.

Now I just need to work on calming the crazy during that big chunk of time between the morning and bedtime!

I Still Believe in Santa Claus, And You Should Too

Santa and I have a wonderful relationship. I have never had a negative experience associated with Santa Claus, even when I discovered that *gasp* he wasn't real. And you know why? Because Santa IS real, and you will never convince me otherwise.

Where I grew up, I saw the same Santa Claus every year. I later came to find out that he his name was George, and he went to my Grandma's church. It was she, my wonderful Grandmother, who let slip to me that "George would be doing Santa at Bettianne's this weekend." My young heart stopped for a moment, but I didn't say anything, because I didn't want my Grandma to feel bad for letting it slip. I was a very intuitive child I believe, and I had seen the movies and heard the stories of children's lives being RUINED and parents feeling terrible about it when such a secret was revealed. 

I continued to defend Santa Claus to my elementary friends as if my life depended on it. One friend caught their parents stuffing stockings, and this was still not enough to sway my belief. 

Yet came one Christmas Eve when I lay awake, dealing with my sleep anxiety that I suffered with for years, and I heard a strange rattling in the living room and my parents talking quietly. It sounded like beads clanging against the coffee table. I thought nothing of it then, but when I woke up on Christmas it all clicked. 

I had received a beaded door hanger from "Santa Claus", and it was sitting on the coffee table for me that morning. At that moment, I knew Mom and Dad had put it there, and I knew the Santa from the movies wasn't authentic. 

But I wasn't crushed, I wasn't too sad, I wasn't angry at my parents for lying to me for my entire life. Christmas was still the best. And I began to wonder why I had so adamantly defended Santa's existence much longer than was probably normal. 

And simply put, it was because in my Catholic family, Santa Claus was St. Nick. 

If you've ever seen this movie, Nicholas: The Boy Who Became Santa, then you are a privileged individual! It's fantastic.

My family didn't celebrate St. Nick's Day on December 6th with a treat in our shoes (though someday I will most definitely do this with my children), but it was always taught that Santa Claus was simply St. Nicholas.

I won't get into all of the cultural origins of the Santa Claus of today, but in this movie I learned that throughout his life St. Nicholas secretly gave away many treasures. Most notably, he left sacks of gold in the socks (that were left to dry above the fireplace) of a father who was soon to be forced to sell his daughters into prostitution, saving them from a terrible fate. 

So naturally, this all clicked for me as a kid. I reasoned that by the grace of God and the magic that I was so sure existed in the world, St. Nick started in this way, first inspired by the gifts of the Magi given to Baby Jesus, and simply became more magical as time went on. And of course he had successors who continued on in the same spirit, gaining even more magic each time!

Guess what--I still believe this. I still believe that St. Nicholas's successors carry on his legacy, albeit differently. They're our parents and the mall Santas and the Santas named George from Lamar, Colorado. And I don't quite know how to describe it, but part of me still believes in the Santa that flies in a sleigh pulled by reindeer and slides down a chimney (or uses the special house key you leave out if you don't have a chimney). Perhaps believe isn't the right word; perhaps it's more of a deep yearning or hope that manifests itself as truth in my brain. But I think I believe more in the pure and utter joy that Christmas has always brought me.

So yes, I still believe in Santa Claus. I believe in the legacy of men who gave treasures to Christ, and a Saint who left gifts in the socks of those who needed them, and a magical man rooted in that legacy who gives gifts to children, and the joy that believing in such a being brings to those who embrace it. 

Embrace the joy of Santa Claus, of St. Nicholas, and believe in him too! :)

Reed It And Weep: Renovation Parts 2,3, & 4

Regina and Brandon quickly realized how tedious of a job painting cabinets, knocking out walls, installing floors, painting high ceilings, and installing new appliances was going to be. And oh, were they correct.

Soon after finishing their renovations, Regina also realized how tedious of a job writing out every detail of their renovation would be. So she isn't going to. But here are a ton of pictures and some descriptions of progress and problems! Enjoy! And beware before starting your own renovation project!

Hello, innocent kitchen. We will soon rip you apart.

Hello, mediocre dishwasher, sink, counters, and floors we thought we would keep.

Hello, ugly appliances.

Old slide in stove out, so the back counter and the trim on the bottom had to be cut out to fit our new
free standing range! 

Trying to be organized in the obvious chaos, I put sticky notes on the cabinets
so I knew where all the kitchen items were stored. 

Cabinet doors off to be cleaned! The beautiful oven looks like
 a prom queen in a trailer park after a tornado.

Priming!

Labeling for sanity!

Help from family on our makeshift pallet painting station!

Drying station. Coat 1 of 1 billion.

1st coat!

Kitchen still a mess, 1st coat done.

Small wall=gone! Linoleum ruined in the process. Time for new floors!

3 coats later, kitchen is back to kind of normal! Don't be fooled...it took multiple
weekends to get to this stage.

I considered leaving the counters salmon pink because obviously
they look so fabulous with the white cabinets. Please note the missing ugly vent
 hood above the stove. 

We took off and hauled away the old counters the day before the granite came.
Do you know how many times I almost set a glass of water into the top of one of these drawers?

The fridge camouflages itself in an attempt to be forgotten and not
 doomed to the garage

Beautiful granite being installed. Be still, my heart.

*Tears of joy*

But wait! The sink was supposed to be an undermounted! They cut it wrong! WOE IS ME!

**

**

**The above 2 pictures come after the granite was installed on a Tuesday. As mentioned, the hole for the sink was cut incorrectly. We planed and paid for an undermount sink, and that is not what we got. This started a whole fiasco, where the counter people had to cut the hole larger, buy us a new, bigger sink, and very kindly threw in some free granite back splash to make amends for their mistake! Hey, we didn't complain about that. But it did suck not having a sink until they came to fix things on Saturday. I don't care what you say, washing non-dishwasher safe dishes in the bathtub doesn't seem sanitary to me. You'll also note that we painted the kitchen this gorgeous blue/black/gray color that is fabulous.

We lived in the new house for almost 6 weeks without a microwave! Baking? Better put your butter in the toaster oven for 10 minutes to warm/soften it for brownies. In a rush and need to eat some leftovers for lunch quickly? EAT THEM COLD LIKE AN ANIMAL. Accidentally let your coffee go cold? Sucks for you. Forgot to leave some meat out to defrost for dinner? Cereal. Microwaves are the backbone of this country, and you will never convince me otherwise.

Getting ours was quite the adventure. We were told that to hire an electrician to wire an outlet for an above the range microwave would be $300!!!!! So we said, hey, let's just get an on the COUNTER microwave! 

Well, after waiting FOREVER, our counter top microwave arrived. Or shall I say, it sailed in BECAUSE IT WAS AS BIG AS A BOAT. Please look at the picture of the stove--the microwave was literally as big and square as the top of that. No joke, it could sit on the stove and completely cover it. 

We moved it around the kitchen to find a suitable place for it, but the only place that microwave should have gone was the ice age, because it was as big as a mammoth. 

So what did we do? Brandon became an electrician and expertly wired an outlet above the stove so we could get an over the range microwave like every other normal house in America. This also meant cutting the cabinet above there in half. So we now have a beautiful, normal size microwave and a miniature cabinet to store the world's tiniest violin that I would play sad songs on every time something else went wrong in the kitchen. 

Oh--that's the other thing. Once we victoriously installed the microwave, we ceremoniously turned it on and it popped the breaker for the entire kitchen/living area! That's another electrical adventure that we actually resolved rather quickly. For once. :) 

Then we moved on to the floors that we never planned on doing! 

Ripping up carpet!!

So much wall to paint.

Painting the ceilings broke my neck.

Note our pile of flooring yet to be put down before the painting is finished.

You can't tell in the picture, but the entry way of the house is SUPER TALL!
And painting it waaaaayyyyyy up high took about 11 years off of my life. The worst.

Beautiful floors throughout the main floor, and pulls added to the finished cabinets and drawers! 

Done just in time to host Thanksgiving. :)

In the end, all the struggles and work were of course worth it. We have so much--almost too much--to be thankful for. As nice as the final outcome is, we won't be doing any big projects again for a while! My brain hurts just thinking of that. 

Before.

Transformed :)

Reed It And Weep: A Four Part Tale of House Renovations

Buckle in, dear friends, because today I'm going to start a novel in parts titled,  Reed It And Weep: A Four Part Tale of House Renovations 

In this epic young adult novel, you'll follow Regina and Brandon as they pursue an exciting kitchen adventure in the rainy, sun deprived Olympia, Washington. They'll experience hardship, rage, and an emotional rollercoaster propelled by exhaustion and fast food. At some points all hope will seem lost, but with the help of friends and some luck,plus 1 Bazillion trips to Lowe's, the haggard couple will come out the other side forever changed. 

Chapter 1

Brandon and Regina walked through the empty house with big, naive eyes. It was in great condition, having been well taken care of since it's construction in 1989. There was a green yard for the dogs to run and play, a sprinkler system to keep said yard looking nice, and a beautiful garage to protect both vehicles from the rain. The price was right, and it would be fun to gradually update some of the dated hinges, doors, baseboards, and other small things here and there. Both were thinking the same thing--they wanted to buy this house. They went into the kitchen and it gleamed at them. It was clean and well maintained, but it would definitely need to be changed right away.

A well maintained, yet dated kitchen.

"It's not so bad!" Regina exclaimed as she slid her hands across the salmon pink countertops from the late 80s. "We can just replace the counters, and the cabinets are in great shape." Her voice trailed off as she said this, realizing the stain on the cabinets wasn't very appealing.

"And some new appliances, obviously," Brandon added, eyeing the almond colored dishwasher and oven.

"Right. And I bet we could paint the cabinets white!"

"With dark appliances."

Their eyes bulged in excitement and they simultaneously jumped into the air, high fived, and shouted, "WE'LL TAKE IT!!!"

Somewhere in the distance, the kitchen reno fairies chuckled and prepared their evil pixie dust.

Chapter 2: Appliances Schmappliances

Regina and Brandon moved into their first home without delay. Moving was easy. Beginning to unpack went smoothly. And soon came the day that the Lowe's truck pulled up to the house on a Sunday morning with an oven range, a dishwasher, and a refrigerator in lovely black stainless steal. The microwave was ordered, but that's another chapter of its own.

Woe on this day.

The fridge was installed, and Brandon stood gazing at it with joy when suddenly, he didn't recognize it. The inside wasn't supposed to be that color. Where was the "showcase" door? Where was the slim drawer above the freezer to store deli platters and cheese plates?! THEY DELIVERED THE WRONG FRIDGE! Not only that, but the door scraped against the left wall when it opened.

That won't do. That won't do at all.

He picked up the phone and discovered that the boy with long eyelashes who put in the order at Lowe's messed up. The fridge that the young couple thought they ordered didn't come in the size they needed. AND NOW THE SALE WAS OVER! And to get the fridge they so desperately desired, a small wall to the left would need removed.

Brandon looked at Regina. She shrugged in dismay.

"Order the new fridge, and I'll come to the store to discuss the sale price with the manager," said Brandon into the phone. He hung up and then turned to his wife.

"Looks like we're knocking out a wall."

Regina smiled because knocking down walls on HGTV's Fixer Upper always looks so fun! #demoday

After quick fixing (at least in their heads) the fridge problem, Brandon and Regina proceeded to install the dishwasher. The hole was the perfect fit and slid in easily. Until, alas, it would budge no more! It was sticking out a good inch from where it needed to be, and the still bright eyed couple realized that the copper piping stuck out too far for the new fancy dishwasher to fit. The pipe stabbed the dishwasher in the back, literally, and stabbed the couple in the back metaphorically.

Brandon had to cut the pipe shorter, because why the heck was it even sticking out that much in the first place? And then to make sure it wasn't leaking they had to tape it up and then pull the dishwasher out of its spot every day or so to make sure there was no leak that would slowly rot away back there for the next 20 years. Luckily, Brandon was a great handyman, and there was no leak! The dishwasher was in, and there were only 3 more appliances, granite counter tops, and painted cabinets to cause problems and make Brandon and Regina wish they had never been born.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stay tuned for the following chapters on knocking out that pesky wall, painting those pesky cabinets, and the fiasco that new granite countertops caused for the once naive and bright eyed couple!

A Letter To The Open Letter Writers Because This Needs To Be The Last One

A Letter To The People Who Are Always Writing Open Letters To Girls With Certain, Specific Personalities Or Issues on Facebook: May I ask why exactly this is such a trend? For some reason it irks me. I can't explain exactly why, but when I see these articles titled "An Open Letter To..." I roll my eyes approximately 42 times. 

(Yeah, yeah, this post is doing the same thing but that's called irony and I did it intentionally!)

Perhaps it's because the articles come across as a cry for attention, are full of cliches, and are completely lacking in real substance? Yeah that's it.

Oh, hey there Linda. I see you just shared "An Open Letter To The Girl Who Loves With Her Heart and Not Her Head." Nice to know you're just like every other person your age in the entire country.
I know these letters are usually meant to be uplifting, with a "You're not alone! You'll get through this rough patch!" message, but the specificity of some of the titles is outrageous, and the content seems to all be taken from the same generic "Open Letter" handbook.


"A Letter To The Girl Who Feels Anxious About Mispronouncing The Italian Menu Items at Olive Garden:"Hang in there. Your social anxiety doesn't define you! "To The Girl Still Healing From A Broken Heart:" We are in this together, and someday you'll look back and realize your struggles made you a stronger person.
Or on a similar note,
"A Letter To The Guy Who Loves An Independent Girl""To The Guy Who Will Marry My Best Friend""An Open Letter To The Boy About To Fall For The Reckless Girl"
Excuse me while I go vomit.

Here's the thing guys. I think I'm a closed letter kinda gal. Please take your cliche filled letters addressed to vague strangers, put a stamp on them and mail them to someone you know who is actually a "girl with a reckless heart." (What does that even MEAN?!)

I'm an article kinda gal too. But perhaps an article--void of cliches!--that talks about the intricacies of balancing friendships with romantic relationships, or one that explores the real emotional and psychological struggles of moving on after a breakup would be a little more substantive and worthwhile than all these generalized letters shouted into the void.

Then again, those cliched articles get shared a billion times each day, while my random rants and reviews sit quietly while gathering web-dust. I don't care though. I'm still going to roll my eyes at your open letters, and never write one myself again.

Adapting the Pioneer Woman to the Gluten Free Lifestyle

The other day I saw a satirical article on Facebook that was titled, "Gluten Free Pancake Mix is Just a Bag of Sand". I laughed out loud. A few people who know me pointed the article out to me and I laughed again. Thanks, friends for making fun of my very serious medical condition that prohibits me from eating the joys of gluten. Indeed, there are many gluten free food items I have tried that seem to be made of either sand, or drywall that's been sitting in the rain for a few days.

But I must defend my gluten free life a bit, because I am definitely not starving, and I've learned to adapt some recipes to make DURN GOOD FOOD.

So let me tell you something: the Pioneer Woman is my spirit animal. Let me tell you something else: her recipes almost always turn out great when adapted to gluten free ingredients! She loves butter and cream as much as I do, and ain't afraid of no bacon. That's the secret here. I have a theory that if you add enough butter to any gluten free recipe, or fry the gluten free thing, it will be edible.

*So if you're thinking about willingly switching to a gluten free diet for health reasons, you're going to be very disappointed. The only way to make what is gluten free sand taste good is by adding a million more calories. Also, all of you who eat gluten free for the fun of it/ because it's trendy need to STOP. For the love of God, eat some bread.* 

I have proven this theory many a time, most often with Pioneer Woman recipes. Here, I will share with you my experimental results for one recipe, which have indeed been repeated. And  I remember something from science about experiments needing to be repeated to be proven????

Disclaimer: I don't have any pictures because I got too excited and ate it all before I remembered to capture it.

Spicy Fried Chicken Sandwiches

It's chicken dipped in buttermilk then dredged in a flour, salt, peppar, cayenne, brown sugar mixture, then dipped again in buttermilk and then FRIED IN GREASY GOODNESS.

Then you mix some spicy hot sauce with some mayo and slather it on a delicious bun or bread of your choice.

Next chop some red cabbage and add some bread and butter pickle juice, jalapenos, parsely, salt and pepper.

On your slathered bun, add some pickles, then place the recently fried chicken. Here's the secret deliciousness: drizzle just a bit of honey on the chicken! DO IT NOW--don's skip this step. Then pile some cabbage on it! Top the bun and EAT IT.

It's delish, I promise. And it's easy to make gluten free if you use gluten free flour!

Also delicious and fried and from The Pioneer Woman: Pan Fried Pork Chops

Also delicious, not fried, and naturally gluten free by The Pioneer Woman: Simple, Perfect Chili

How to Cope with the Outcome of the Election: Eat Alfredo

So the election's almost over and you're emotionally spent from the rollercoaster of the last year and a half. We won't get into WHICH emotions you're feeling right now--fear, anger, sadness, rage, whatever--because I know that there's one thing we all have in common: hunger.

I'm going to share with you the solution to your emotions and your hunger:

Make this Alfredo sauce.

We all are in need of some comfort, so get yourself a stick of butter, half a chunk of cream cheese, and a pint of heavy cream. Put it all in a sauce pan and WHISK IT INTO SUBMISSION. Add some salt and pepper, garlic to your taste, and throw in a teaspoon or two of Italian seasoning. Then add a cup of shredded parmesan cheese and whisk it in as it melts deliciously and temptingly. When it sticks to your whisk, lick it off with no shame.

Enraged at the state of the good ol' USofA? Make and eat this Alfredo sauce.

Scared for the future? Put this Alfredo sauce on your toast in the morning.

Relieved that the dang election is just OVER? Heap the Alfredo sauce on some pasta (gluten free of course).

Trying to eat healthy and want to trick yourself into eating a vegetable? Pour the sauce on some broccoli.

Seriously, just eat this Alfredo sauce in some way! It's okay to eat it with a spoon! It's okay to eat it right before bed! For breakfast! Scoop it with a tortilla. Add chicken and spinach and pasta. Feed it to the dogs because God knows they've felt the negative effects of the election just as much as you.

I promise, you will feel better while making and eating this Alfredo sauce, and right now, that's all any of us want to do. To feel better.

Anything with butter makes ya better.