Tuesday Tidbits 9/30

A Major Holiday

Yesterday was National Coffee Day, and I celebrated like I never have before (because I never have before). My record for the day: 3 cups in my "coffee bowl," 3 spoons of sugar, 2 drops of Pumpkin Spice Creamer, and 4 zaps in the microwave (true mom status).

I have coffee in my blood. My dad drinks at least one pot a day every day, even in the middle of summer.  I learned to brew a nice pot of Folgers when I was knee high to a grasshopper (oops, my country is showing).

So when I saw National Coffee Day trending on Twitter, it got me thinking about all the things I love about the black gold.

• Coffee has the best nicknames. Java, brew, cuppa, go juice, jolt, mud, et al.
• Coffee makes you get up and go. It may be mental (although the withdrawal headaches suggest that it isn't), but I feel like I could conquer the world after my morning cup(s), or at least conquer the Monday. I've heard Plexus Slim has the same effect, but coffee is much cheaper, and we're tryna be debt-free, y'all. 
• Coffee is like a woman. No matter how you dress her, she's always a woman to Billy Joel. There's a coffee for every taste. Latte, cappuchino, triple shot, sugar, whipped cream, mocha, caramel, frozen, iced, black, never ending possibilities, with or without a fantastic cookie to dip. If you don't like coffee, you haven't tried hard enough. 

I've been thinking about wishing for a Keurig. Pros/Cons for daily drinkers?

Put not your trust in football. 

With all the things I love about Fall, there are some that are not at the top of my list. One bandwagon that I could never get on is football. 

I grew up in a small town with a small school. It was so small that we didn't have a football team, so no Friday Night Lights for me.  My dad was not particularly into sports, so we didn't spend every weekend and major holiday watching ESPN. He was too busy cleaning deer to watch football. I married a football fan, but we abstain from cable, so I've missed out there, too. In conclusion, I've had no reason to make sports a part of my life. 

I know that many people, however, do not miss a chance to call the hogs. They talk about player stats and game highlights like they were actually on the field. When the team hurts, they feel pain. And then my Facebook news feed feels pain. 

So fans, fair-weather and die-hard, I want to offer this caution as we enter football season: remember that it's just a game, it's just a hobby, it's just a fleeting moment in time, and it is not something to sin over. 

Remember to commit yourself to Christ during this season as earnestly as you do any other time of the year (or more). Don't forsake gathering with the church to gather with your team of choice (in person or in spirit). Where your news feed is, there also is your heart. Don't forget to boast in your Savior rather than a group of students who have talent for a game that pays for their college. Enjoy this season, but don't put your hope in it. 

Are you a superfan? How do you find the balance in enjoying but not abusing your hobby?

Blog Fun, Part 3. 

Next up on my weekly blog roll: Crystal and her posse from Money Saving Mom.

As the title suggests, this site has saved me tons of money. What started as the small blog of a homeschooling mom has grown into a huge business for Crystal, her husband, and her employees.  She and her group scour the internet for the best deals in grocery, health, and beauty.  There are tons of articles on shopping, meal planning, stockpiling, couponing, recipes, home management, and home finance. I pretty much eat this website for breakfast.

Some of my favorite content from this site includes:

• The list of free ebooks they post several times per week.
• The "52 Different Ways to Save $100 this Year" series from 2013.
• The "We Paid Cash" stories--it CAN be done!
• And the daily "this is free or cheap" posts that inevitably pop up.

Check this blog out and watch the dollars roll in, or at least stay warm and safe in your pocket.

I Volunteer as Tribute.

MisterKidd is spending time with his friends tonight (smoke a pipe, talk about Jesus, pound your chest), and there is only one thing on my mind.

Homeschool.

I have voluntarily chosen to be solely responsible for all of the Kidd children's learning endeavors from now until college. I think my head is going to explode from that pressure.

As I have mentioned before, I have a degree in education. I've always wanted to be a teacher.  I didn't just play baby dolls as a little girl; I lined the baby dolls up, gave them worksheets (bad pedagogy, I am now reformed), and took grades. I loved going to school, reading, and doing homework, and I couldn't wait to have my own set of little people to teach. College came, and choosing my major was a non-issue.

At the same time, I knew God was calling me to stay home with my then non-existent children. It was always my hope to spend my time managing my home and raising my children (yes, I knew this as a single college freshmen). So I was curious to see how those two dreams would coincide.

Duh.

MisterKidd and I love the idea of child-based education. Not so much, "OK, kids, what do you want to learn today?" But more like tailoring the education to the child, teaching them to be adults in the world with us by letting them be in our world. Teachers are taught in teacher school to teach the child rather than the subject, but that is almost impossible when you have 80 students for only 9 months, then you give them up for another set of 80. There is only so much relationship-building and life-altering that can happen.

The solution was clear. These not-yet-born kiddos would be formally taught at home. I have the education and the resources to make it a great experience. We discerned that this was God's plan for our family. Then, God gave us the family.

With Big Girl's 2nd birthday approaching, I am dipping my toe in the water of teaching her some skills that are more academic. I have been researching online, asking friends who homeschool or plan to, and praying (a lot), but this is flashing in my mind like a big, gaudy neon sign:

I AM NOT EQUIPT AND WILL NOT SUCCEED IN TEACHING MY CHILDREN.

Internal Rant: What did I sign up for? I can't teach them everything they need to know BY MYSELF in only 18 years. It took about 50 people to teach me all the things I learned. I have a degree in Mid-Level Education, like 9-14 year olds. Maybe I should get some kids that are 10 and teach them how to construct a paragraph. How can I teach these babies how to read??? Why didn't I major in Early Childhood and then just wing it after elementary til they went to college? That would have been more streamlined. And there is so much information out there. What's crap? What's gold? What should I buy? What should I make? What am I going to use all those toilet paper rolls I've been saving for???

*Sigh*

But then I remember that Big Girl knows "A." And the other day, she made a mark on the magnadoodle that kinda looked like an "A" and called it an "A." I can do this. I taught her "A," and I'll teach her more letters, and colors, and numbers, and with prayer and patience, we will complete this fabulous journey that I am 100% called to and on my way to being equipped for. It will be hard and confusing and amazing to mark all over these blank slates that God has entrusted to me.

Feel free to encourage...

**Update: This. http://www.notimeforflashcards.com/2012/04/15-recycled-paper-roll-crafts-for-earth-day.html

Tuesday Tidbits 9/23

Fa-La-La-La-Fall

It's the most wonderful time of the year.  Today is the first day of FALL. Leaves, pumpkin spice coffee creamer, candles that smell like baked goods, and thermometers that say, "Grab a sweater, Brianna."

I've been reading the "extended forecast" to MisterKidd everyday for the past few weeks, and we rejoice over each cool front. This was our conversation yesterday:

B: High of 78 today and tomorrow! And tomorrow's the first day of Fall!
MK: Yesssss. You know God made this time of year for us, right? He said, "Here you go, Kidd family."

*Swoon.* Soulmates.

Another fantastic thing has happened this week, and it's only Tuesday. I got fluff mail yesterday. It's when the mail person plays ding-dong-ditch at my front door, and there's a box of goodies on my stoop.

This particular parcel was full of seasonal treats. I am very fond of Christmas (ask anyone). The theme of this fluff mail has got the Frank Sinatra blaring at my house. These diapers are so cute, I may not even let my littles pee in them.

Fluff Mail

Yeah, those are owls in top hats and scarves. Can you die from cuteness?

It's not humility.

I've been thinking about this concept lately. I don't have it fully formed, but I got an inkling that I need to ponder.

I have been noticing the confusion of self-deprecation and humility in the church. There is a difference in putting yourself down and putting the focus off yourself. The line is getting blurred, particularly among Christian women. We don't appear more humble by highlighting our own flaws at every turn or tearing down our own character. This is the opposite, in fact.

Humility is thinking of yourself less rather than thinking of yourself poorly or not at all. In aiming to be humble through self-deprecation, we actually think of ourselves more as we strive to tear ourselves down for the sake of others.

MisterKidd asked me to put Philippians 2:3 on our chalk board so we could think on this verse for a few weeks, and it fits perfectly with what I've been thinking lately. "Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others as more significant than yourselves." 

There is no loophole from conceit to meekness, or from self-centeredness to humility; there is only the remembrance that we are God's treasured possessions, made in His image, and we are called to consider others more and first if we are His.

Blog Fun, Part 2

This week's blog highlight is Emily at The Anderson Crew.  She is a SAHM of six kiddos ages 2 to 10.

I've been following this one for a couple years. I think I originally came across it on Pinterest. At that time, she and her husband were in the process of adopting a little girl from Ethopia, so it was awesome to follow their adoption journey as it was happening.

A lot of her posts are about daily family stuff, her use of Young Living EOs, and the women's ministry she and some of her friends started (Flourish).

It doesn't hurt that she has awesome style, and her home is that bright white DIY with pops of color that I love.

I don't know about you, but I'm feeling Twenty-Four

It's loud here at night. Not loud like it is at our new house on the corner of Train Tracks and Busy Avenue. The loud is quieter: bugs, cows, the occasional car, maybe a coyote or two, and the train way off in the distance.

I'm home. Maybe not "this is my address, where my clothes hang in the closet and I have full decorating say," but "memory" home, where they loaned me a room for a couple decades and trained me to be a grown-up. 

What better place is there to celebrate my birthday?

MisterKidd coordinated with my mom for a birthday weekend. We loaded up our kiddos and headed to the country for two full days of "Whatever you want, Brianna." It was magical. 

On Friday, I spent most of the day in my pajamas, catching up on episodes of "The Pioneer Woman Cooks" that my mom had DVR'd for me. We also got to meet Daniel Tiger's new baby sister, Margaret. (No, I'm not kidding. MisterKidd and I were more excited than Big Girl to catch this episode.)

The evening was spent at one of our favorite places. We eat at this restaurant for almost every major holiday. Endless shrimp, Sangria, cheddar biscuits, good conversation, and my best friend. 

We love this place. We love the food, the live lobsters, the expensive bill. We usually love the Seafood Specialists, but this time, we were disappointed.

MisterKidd and I both have a past waiting tables (it's actually a part of his "present"). When we're at restaurants, we are simultaneously more gracious because we know how hard it is and less forgiving because we know what it takes to give great service. Our poor server was just not good. It started with her taking our order with another table's dirty dishes on the tray beside her and ended with her coming by our table three times after our dishes were already cleared, promising she'd "be right back with the check." We felt so sorry for her. 

Our delay caused us to be an hour late for the mall. We spent about an hour shopping before the stores started to close, which reminded us of our slow, sad service. But I got some sweet threads at the only store in the mall that didn't close at 9pm, Mom's Mecca. 

The next day, on my actual birthday, my mom, my big sister, and I went to lunch. Alone. Without kids. We love our kids, but it was a blast to just talk about grown-up stuff (so grown-up of me to notice). We got some fall scented goodness at Bath and Body Works and Strawberry Shortcakes from a local fav on the way home. 

Birthday weekend: Success.

Now that I'm a mama, I have a new view of birthdays. The only thing I want to do on my birthday these days is hang out with the lady that made it happen (and maybe the dude that helped). That day means something totally different to her than it does for everyone else. It's the anniversary of the day that she did a great and totally selfless work for me, the first of many.

Happy 24th Birthday, Mom. 

Tuesday Tidbits 9/16

Dream Clean

I've been wanting one of these since my big girl started eating solids. After every meal and snack, you can find me on the floor with a wet rag, mopping up the crumbs, drips of drink, and hunks of food that did not make it into Big Girl's tummy. 

Kids learn by repetition. So I caught Big Girl doing this one day:

I was simultaneously proud of her mad cleaning skills and completely scared to death that my life is the one she's watching while she's building her own life. 

Those days are over, my friend. Over. I made a purchase yesterday at Mom's Mecca (Target) that will change my days for the better. 

Bam.

Sanctification, by God. 

The struggles and joys of the SAHM life are innumerable. Love: spending my days with my sweet kiddos, watching them learn, and pouring into them the love of Jesus. Un-love: diapers, crying, and no time for myself. Comme ci, comme ca. 

All of this, along with the fact that he totally floats my boat, makes me really look forward to MisterKidd's arrival in the afternoons, so much that we have fallen into a pattern of "he comes home right after work no matter what." I'm not trying to be a dictator, and to my knowledge, he doesn't feel oppressed. But I've noticed it lately, and it's been bugging me. 

So God started doing what He does best. I've been chatting with Him about this feeling, and we've come to the conclusion that I need to be more gracious with MisterKidd's time. Like, not helping him manage every second. 

Taking care of littles is hard, but we're in this together, so I want to be flexible with him and supportive of his free time and hobbies, as he tries to do the same for me. We're parents, but we're also people. People that might snap if they can't just run to Lowe's to get a screw for their bow. 

Blog Fun, Part 1

I have a few favorite blogs that I've collected over the past few years. These are real women (sorry, guys) that post their lives on the internet, and I have fun keeping updated on their DIY projects, trips to the zoo with their large family, money saving strategies, holistic health tips, homeschool ideas, and delicious food. Incidentally, all of these women are believers, so I get a good dose of Jesus when I check in once a week when the stars and the nap times align. 

Over the next several weeks, I'll link to my favorite blogs on my Tuesday Tidbits post so my four or five readers can check them out. 

Up first, Kelly at View Along the Way.

If anyone wants to sneak into my house and make it over to look exactly like hers, feel free. She has awesome style; everything is so white and crisp, with pops of color, yard sale finds, and outgoing DIY flare. Her voice is so fun and playful. 

Bonus: She cloth diapers her kids, and she and her husband paid off their house in 5 years while following Dave Ramsey's principles for money management. As a new homeowner, this is serious inspiration!

Check out her blog, and let me know when you're coming by to paint so I can casually run out for errands.

Tuesday Tidbits

It's not me, it's the Crock Pot.

I have this Crock Pot. I use it because I'm a SAHM and I'm supposed to. My food is not always good. 

I try recipes from cheap cookbooks, recipes from nice cookbooks, recipes from my hero, PW, recipes from my other hero, Mom, and recipes from the internet. 

Oven food: good. Stovetop food: good. Microwave food: good. Crock Pot food: sometimes good. 

Why, Crock Pot, why? I will admit, I take some liberties with my food. I don't set a timer. I leave out and/or substitute ingredients. I loosely follow recipes. But why are my Crock Pot meals mediocre?

As I stared into the Crock Pot watching my Shredded Tex Mex Chicken cook too fast (yet again), this thought popped up like a whack-a-mole: it's not me. It's the Crock Pot. 

Who has one they love? Sell me, sister. 

Mom Porn is still Porn.

I'm going to say this, and all the feelings are going to happen. Anger, apathy, agreement, plus some that don't start with an "a" and will throw off my alliteration. 

"50 Shades of Grey" is not literature. It's pornagraphy in a neat, socially acceptable package. It might be marketed along with other New York Times best sellers, but it truly does promote sexual abuse and devalue women. 

I was working on my Swagbucks videos to earn some dollars (ok, not so much watching as letting them play. I confess.) I picked up my phone and caught a glimpse of a movie trailer. I don't remember what drew my attention, but I finished the video. What I saw made my stomach turn. This is not a picture of a healthy sexual relationship between a woman and her husband. 

"But have you read it? The book is always different than the movie."

No, but the book jacket tells me it's not something I want to hide in my heart. I remember everything I've ever read. Literally. I also have a great imagination. If I did read it, even just to review it, it would still affect me. Something that has the potential to alter my worldview and my relationship with my husband so greatly doesn't need to be in my mind. (For more info on how this could happen from reading a book, email me.)

"I can read it and still not agree with it. We read for entertainment."

Both of those statements are true. I am a Harry Potter fan from way back, but I'm not hanging out in my bedroom practicing magic. MisterKidd and I have discussed this concept over and over in regards to our kids. What can be redeemed through discussion, and what should be rejected entirely? 

The difference is in the heart of the characters. That's what we take with us after we close the book. Harry Potter's heart is for his friends and family. His choices reflect a servant who regularly makes sacrifices for the people he loves. Is he perfect? No. But I can share the Gospel with my kids through that fact. Christ is THE sinless savior, and he really lives. From what I know of the main character of "50 Shades of Grey," his choices are those of an abuser. The theme of the story tells our hearts that it's desirable to be taken advantage of and manipulated. 

Phillipians 4:8 tells us to fill our minds with things that build us up and bring us closer to God. Reflect on this, Christian women, when you consider what to use for entertainment. 

Head over to the Gospel Coalition for an actual review of the book. 

http://thegospelcoalition.org/article/fifty-shades-twilight-and-teaching-young-women-to-desire-abusers

...of whom I am chief.

This article. Moms, stop taking yourself so seriously. Laugh at yourself, and learn from veterans, too, not just peers. 

http://www.theonion.com/articles/new-study-finds-link-between-breastfeeding-always,36823/?utm_source=Facebook&utm_medium=SocialMarketing&utm_campaign=LinkPreview:1:Default

Pride and Prejudice and Parenting

As the good book says, "money is the root of all evil."  Well I say, we can often substitute "pride" for "money." Just call me Tevye. As much as I hate pride and see it as one of the most off-putting characteristics, I am guilty of it (of course).

I'm prideful about my marriage. I'm prideful about my education. I'm prideful about some of the choices I've made in my adult life. Recently, I am most prideful about my decisions in parenting. 

I have mentioned some of my greenish, semi-crunchy tendencies. Most of the green choices MisterKidd and I make are related to parenting. Our choices are carefully thought out, economical, and, more often than not, against the current social norms. Our "try hard" family waves them as a brightly colored banner high above your head. 

Enter: pride. 

When we were planning to start our family and living off MisterKidd's IHOP income while I was in college, we began researching ways to spend less when raising children. Everyone knows the biggest expense is diapers. So our first introduction into this crunchy lifestyle was discovering modern cloth diapers. 

"We can buy 20 diapers and wash them every day and it will SAVE US HOW MUCH MONEY?"

Newly married. Poor. Idealistic. We were sold. 

40+ diapers, several stints in disposables, many wash routine troubles, and two babies later, we are still loving our fluffy bottoms and the money it keeps in our budget and out of Pampers' wallet. 

We are ALL into this cloth diapering business, advocating (tactfully, of course) when we can and finding comraderie with others that choose cloth. However, it has been a bit of a learning curve with our extended families, who either used disposables exclusively or are more familiar with old school flats. And my try hard-ness makes me stubborn and defensive when it comes to decisions that I've made outside the norm. 

I recently took a road trip with my parents (sans MisterKidd), the first one ever with my girls. Road tripping with two under two is no easy task no matter how much help you have, especially without my duck dynasty look alike, who knows our routines well. And I was determined to use cloth on the trip. I am comfortable using it. No, it's not a hindrance. Yes, we will have to stop more, but that's just how it is. I. Will. Not. Bend. 

We were not even 45 minutes from home on our 9 hour drive when the first leak happened, as they often do in the car seat (hey, I never said cloth diapering was without it's struggles). 

Brianna's Three Second Internal Monologue:

"Ugh. Why is this happening? I double stuffed the pocket. I used bamboo because it's extra absorbent. Now they willl continue to think cloth diapers suck. It's up to me to advocate for the entire cloth diapering community, and I've let them all down. I have so much to prove. But 9 hours of stopping every 45 minutes equals...way more than 9 hours. Plus we will have to stop so I can nurse Baby Sister. Ok, fine."

You see, my try hard family is also a super logical family. Seriously, if logical thinking were an Olympic sport, MisterKidd could fill the bathtub with gold medals. 

It didn't make sense to stop that often, deal with the leaks that were bound to happen, and tbh, I didn't want to have to wash and care for my dipes on vacation.

I let go of some pride and got diapers that would be used once and then thrown in the trash. And it was so freeing. Not because I truly hate CD's or because I secretly wish we bought disposables regularly, but because I was making the best decision for my kiddos in that situation and letting go of my pride. Nobody wants wet pants for 9 hours straight. 

A few days later (after an incident in which two different tables were rude to me at a restaurant for having a crying baby and breastfeeding said baby) my mom dropped this little nugget of wisdom: 

"You don't have enough time to stand up to everybody. You are too busy raising kids."

That was it. I will stick this in my pocket for whenever I get fired up about breastfeeding and delayed cord clamping. Do I think these decisions are best for my children (and yours)? Yes. Is it the end of the world if you don't and I do? Not in the slightest. Do I have to personally school every rude old lady on why breastfeeding should be normalized? No. I just want to feed my kids, diaper their bottoms, and teach them to be adults in the world with me. Just like most everybody else.