Emily Cook's Blog, page 45

Wonderful Wonky Tortillas (best made with shirtless little boys.)

Quesadillas are one of our favorite lunches.  So this week, I tried making tortillas at home with our fresh ground whole wheat flour.  They were wonky, but they were wonderful.
[image error] Ingredients2 1/2 cups whole-wheat flour (I used King Arthur’s white whole-wheat flour)1/2 cup oil (she used avocado oil, I used olive oil)1 teaspoon salt1 cup warm water (heat in the microwave for 1 min)(See the full recipe here- follow hers!)
Also needed (in my opinion)Good music playing in the kitchenShirtless boy helpersan iPad for backup
My notes 
Then, I thought I was losing my mind. The instructions say the following:
Take out the dough and divide it into 12 equal sized pieces. I do this by making the dough into a big log shape that is about 8 – 10 inches long. Then I cut it in the middle. Then I cut each of those pieces in the middle and so on until you have 12 pieces.
Of course, that is impossible. You can cut in halves to make 8, or 16, but not twelve. It is an unimportant detail, but I am telling you up front so that you do not question your sanity or math skills when it doesn't work out for you.

We stuck with 16 because it was easier.Then one fell on the floor, so we had 15.
Next, roll each piece in a ball.(Cute shirtless boys love to help with this step.) 



Place on try and cover- letting set for 15 min to one hour per instructions.

This is a good time to do something wild with small children outside the kitchen.  Spin them in circles in chairs, or dig a hole, or have them take turns riding the dog. Just make sure they wash their hands afterwards.
Next, heat your pans, roll your dough, and fry them up!(see the real recipe for more precise instructions. By the way, I only needed to grease the pan once.)

In case you are wondering, I am not a meticulous person, and I also believe that perfect circles are over-rated. Yes, my tortillas look a little wonky.  But if you make them wonky, then you get to use the word "wonky," and I like that word much better than I like perfect circles.  
Perhaps you have family members who like things in order, cupboard doors closed, and circles perfect, like I do. If so, you will realize that this is another great opportunity to drive them crazy.
Make them wonky.
Flip, flip, done.Flip, flip, done.Flip, flip, done.
The boys were getting a little impatient. So it was time for the iPad.

They played while I finished. By that time, the smell was driving us all wild, so we had to taste one.

Approved!
Then we added cheese, which can only make things better.


Let me know if you try them out-and take a picture  of your wonky ones! 

Did you make something wonky-looking recently?
Send me a picture of it, and you just might win a free book!

I am not my Van. (On caring for the body)

Moby, our van
I get in the van, turn the key, and expect it to GO.
It should go. Vans should work. That’s what they are for, and I expect them to do that.
Now, sometimes my van breaks. And when it does, I am highly irritated and inconvenienced. So what do I do? Do I learn how it works so that I can figure out what is wrong with it and fix it?No. I tell my husband. He fixes it.
Sometimes, he tries to explain to me what was wrong with it, and I try to listen, sort of, but my mind just hears a bunch of uninteresting words:






I don’t care to know how the van works. I just want it to work. And when it doesn't work, I will ask my husband to fix it, or pay for a mechanic if all else fails (and it rarely does.)
I don’t care how it works, I just want it to work. I’m told it needs regular maintenance too, but I don’t really know when or what, because my husband does that. 
And the van goes.
Not our van, but wouldn't that be SWEET?! 
See reclaiming the cool factor
I act the same way with my body.My body should GO. I have important places to be today, and I need my body to get me there. I will fuel it with whatever fuel sounds good to me, and I will expect it to just keep going.
I don’t want to be bothered to learn how it works, to care for it, to bow to some silly maintenance schedule.
And then, my body starts to complain. Personally, my complaints have come in the form of weight gain, mood swings,  bad skin, and irritability. My body hints, then complains, then screams at me to change my ways. But I really don’t want to stop moving and take the time to listen.
But my body is not like my van. I can’t just use and abuse it and then ask someone else to fix it.(Well, I can, actually, but that's probably not the best choice.)It might be worth taking the time to learn about it. My van is replaceable, but my body is not.
This is hard and humbling because I should know this stuff already. I should have learned these healthy things and made these healthy changes years and years ago. How can I take time out of my life to do this, now?
How can I not?My body is not replaceable.
And I think about what I’m doing: expecting my body to run smoothly while at the same time giving it little or no attention. What would it be like if I did that with my house? What if I approached homemaking this way- winging it, getting things done as quickly I can with as little attention as possible, refusing to bow to any kind of maintenance schedule or routine?
It would all fall apart. Fast. Three kids ago, this is exactly what was happening, which is why I finally started to listen to flylady and it changed my life, saved my sanity, and helped me to make a home for my family.
And my body is an even more complicated system then my household.
It is fearfully and wonderfully made, in fact.Much more so than my 15 passenger van named Moby (though the van is pretty awesome, I must say.)
When I was drowning in the tasks of running a house, I thought about housework all the time, did it all the time, and yet still felt completely out of control and overwhelmed.  Now, what if, instead of learning a system, I simply tried to think about housework less, and hoped that solved the problem?
It's crazy, right?
But this is what I do to my body when it complains.I think about food too much, whether it’s what I want to eat, what I am eating, what I shouldn't eat, or what I can’t eat. This is true of me when I am being lazy and when I am on a health kick. 
I think about food too much.
I think this is one of my body’s complaints, actually. The cravings, the restlessness, and the constantly being unsatisfied: these things are going on for a reason. And I haven’t wanted to take the time to figure out why.
I’d like to think about food less often, but I can’t do that without addressing my body’s complaints. I can’t just force myself to be less hungry. I have to take the time to learn how a body works. That means learning about the proper fuel, the emotional and spiritual issues, and a maintenance schedule for soul and body that will keep my whole self working properly.
So, let’s eat some humble pie and start learning.(mmmm. Pie.)

[image error]photo credit: Jesus and tea
 I couldn't find a picture online with this verse written on a fat mama foot, and I would take one of my own, but my handwriting is terrible even when I'm not twisted up like a pretzel trying to see the bottom of my foot. So you will just have to imagine it. This verse, on your own foot, that is.
-------
Like me, do you want your body to just keep on going without requiring your help or attention? Is your body complaining to you about the way you treat it?Are you hesitant to learn about healthy eating because you feel like you should know it already?Or do you feel like you already do know it, and the problem is in doing it?

Click here for more

Our Theme, Writ Large

I need reminders, big ones.  I have such a tendency to barrel through the day, getting stuff done, and I forget to pray, or to focus on the important things until the end of the day.  And that's no way to live.
I love words.Why not put them everywhere?
So, I enlisted some help...



Shirtless boys are great helpers.Or something.

We painted.And I ran upstairs for paper towels and my camera, and I said to my husband, "What was I thinking, trying to paint with kids this age?"
But then, I saw this, and I remembered. 

Remind yourself, and your little ones, that you are wonderfully made this week!
Make a poster, hang it by your sink, pack a note in your child's lunch!
If you do this, I'd love to see your pictures!

Make me healthy, a little. (A prayer.)

Click here for more
Soul and body are not separate issues. They are tangled together, in a wonderful, exhausting, beautiful, frustrating mystery.
I've been exploring this in my own head and heart, and because I can't help it, I've been exploring it in writing. Now, I'd like to explore these things  with you, here on the blog.
Don't worry, this blog will not turn into a health or food blog.  There are others who do that job wonderfully. I cannot see myself as any kind of expert in the realm of food, except eating it. 
But God is working on me, and my conscience is nagging at me, and I am uncomfortable.

So let us begin with a half-hearted prayer (because it's all I have!)
Father, it’s about time I have prayed this prayer. I've put it off for a long time. It’s stupid really, but I guess this weakness is one I have not wanted to admit.  Or, maybe I have wanted to overcome it on my own, or maybe I don't really wanted to overcome it at all.  Contrition, resolve, denial, failure, guilt, and more denial- these things I know full well. And I wonder if the cycle will ever end.  It's time to confess it all.
I confess my addictions to food and drink; my reliance on what I consume instead of you. I do this all the time. I am selfishly and stupidly trying to fill myself, comfort and encourage myself, with good edible things… to the point of my harm and my shame.
I cannot free myself from my sinful condition.I cannot overcome this. I can’t even want to most of the time.If this sin is going to die in me, You are going to have to fight it. You are going to have to hold my hand and walk with me and fight for me and in me and with me.
Ok… I’m ready. Wait, no.  I’m not ready, not really.
But I have a tiny bit of want-to in me, and today I’m daring to say it- I want You to help me with this, Father.
Forgive me in the name of Jesus. Cleanse me from this unrighteousness, from idolatry and slavery.Teach me to see your gifts rightly, to receive them with thanksgiving, but not to rely on them to fill what only You can.  Teach me self-control and gratitude.

Teach me to see my body as you do-- Your blessed creation, meant to be cared-for and enjoyed.
Into your hands I commend myself.
Amen.
I wish that were the end of it: a simple prayer, a change of perspective like turning on a light bulb, and then, POW! easy victory. But it is a mere beginning of a journey.

Are you coming along?



[image error]

Now, I'd like to hear from you:
What are you praying for?Do you struggle with the want-to?And, have you been drinking your water?

This week's challenge: Pray, daily, and honestly, about your health and your body, 
and ask God to help you see yourself as He sees you.
Remember, you can read the rest of the series here,
and join the facebook group for extra support!

A New Series: Weak and Lovely

I wanted to start this series right away in January, but life happened.
I also wanted to have all these issues solved before I started talking about them with you, but I am nowhere near that goal. And yet, here we go.   
Introducing a new series



Weak and Lovely: A journey of body and soul.You see, I have a problem.
I’m told that I am fearfully and wonderfully made, but I really don’t believe that. You can tell by the way I treat my body.  My heart was made to rest in God, but I don’t really believe that either.  You can tell by the way I try to drown my sorrows with a bowl of potato soup.  God made me a woman, and He created femininity, and it is good.  And yet, I think I make fun of it more than I embrace it. 
I wish I was already victorious, and I could stand at the finish line with my self control like iron and my perspective as clear as God’s Word,  and from there I could cheer you on,  give you a game plan, and help you be strong like me.
But I’m still weak. I weigh more than I’d like to, and only half of me even cares.  I abuse the gifts God gives me.   My perspective is cloudy and my temptations are great.   And I make plans to change things, and then I cheat, or I realize the plans themselves were just as sinful as the laziness. 
On the wagon, or off the wagon, either way I know it down to my bones:I’m still weak.
And yet (don’t miss this part!) Even so, even now, I am loved.I am loved, and I am lovely.
In Christ, I already am. I am loved, I am lovely, and this changes everything.
I know this, but I want to know it more. I want to take this truth and let it steep into the difficult corners of my life, my temptations and my cravings, my questions and my identity.
For several weeks, I will be asking this question:
What does it mean to be weak and loved, to be weak and lovely?
This will not become a health food or fitness blog, but I may tell you about my new favorite foods. I will also give you a glimpse into our kitchen, through recipes, success stories, and horror stories.   I will share my reading and my thoughts about raising ‘tween girls, beauty, and body image.  You will hear about my frumpy tendencies, and my girly ‘tween, and how we learn from each other.  And Jesus.  Because I can’t talk about any of this stuff without sensing the connection of body and soul, health and spirit, life and grace.
This is an extremely broad topic, and I am by no means an expert. I welcome your questions, suggestions, and guest posts.
God, help me to see as you see: myself, my body, Your law, Your grace, and Your edible gifts to me.   Make me hunger and thirst for You, and teach me to live in the freedom of your gospel love.
Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. Romans 12:2


What does it mean to be weak and lovely? I hope you will join me on this journey of body and soul!Let’s renew our minds and improve our bodies together!
For extra support, join my facebook group Weak and Lovely (it is a closed group- only members can see what is posted there!)  We will talk goals and encourage each other there!

This morning, love meant picking wet cat food out of my family’s underclothes.

What would I do if I had a child with special needs? I remember wondering this out loud to my mother-in-law. She just smiled, and said, “You’d love him.”
You would love him. She’s right, it really is that simple. God sends us children, and we love those children. 
We love the specific child He sends, whatever that love might look like.  Love is what we are called to do, for each of our children, in whatever form that takes.  And He helps us do this, even when it is hard.
“Your job is to love.”
I remember when love meant pregnancy aches and pains, the dread of childbirth, and the awkward mama waddle. I remember when love meant nursing and rocking and long days of watching a baby girl make sweet baby faces. I remember when love meant long days at the park, looking for caterpillars and pushing a stroller. I remember when love meant journaling seizures, research, and worry.
The love required of a mother changes form and shape with each child, through each season.
Sometimes love burns as it pours out; it hurts me, because it pours out on a little one who suffers.  It hurts to give that kind of love, and yet, how can we not when our children suffer?

Sometimes love is easy, and it pours out of us freely while we take in as much joy as we give.
This morning, love meant picking wet cat food out of my family’s underclothes.
The backstory: I have a three-year old with behavior issues. I will share no more specific details, because I have none. I only know he is different, and his differences are pushing the limits of my creativity. I am reading, researching, and talking to other mothers. Right now, loving him means vigilance and observation, journaling and brainstorming.
It was a bad morning. My new strategies were not working, and everything was falling apart. (Insert long list of little chicken-peck problems, like hitting and throwing stuff and biting the cat's tail. Let's just say my patience was already thin.)

 He wanted to play with the dog in the basement, and I let him, so I could catch my breath and think.That’s when he found the cat food.He dumped in the washing machine, mid-cycle.He added a scoop of dirty cat litter, for good measure.

[portions of this story have been censored]
He took an early nap.
A few minutes ago, I started shaking out the laundry, piece by piece.  The shirt, shaken in anger, flung wet cat food across the floor, making more mess for me. My hands smell like laundry soap and fish.  I know this will be funny someday, but right now, I am just done. I am done, and he is going to wake up from his nap any second now.
flickr photoI am done, but I don’t get to be done.My job is to love.And my God, it is exhausting.  But you know that, don’t you, God?
My job is to love.Even in tears, even when I am out of ideas, even when they won’t stop fighting and the Christmas tree is still up and my hands stink.
My job is to love.Once again I find myself unable to do this job in front of me, on my face before God, asking for His help.
God, I have been undone by fighting, noise, and wet cat food. I am undone.  My heart is just not big enough. It’s not just the burdens of motherhood, it’s how poorly I am handling them right now. The annoyances and my own failures, Lord, they weigh heavy on my heart.
And yet here it is before me: my job. I must love them.  But I’m out of love, and patience, too. Give me some of yours, please. Be my strength in the after-nap hours.  Be my patience and my energy for snacks, and homework, and dinner. Be my gentleness at bath time. Be my kindness when they go to bed.
Uphold us all from now until bedtime, and then finally, let us rest in peace.In Jesus’ name, Amen.

------------------Your job is to love.What does your love look like in your home, in this season?(If you write a blog post on this topic, please leave it in the comments.)
PS It is OK to laugh about the cat mess. I will join you… in a few more days.

My new favorite phrase

My 2 year old and I were eating our morning bread.

I asked, “Do you know where this bread came from?”

“You did it.”

“Well, mommy made the bread, yes, but Jesus grew the wheat for the bread.”

“Oh.  That was cool of Jesus.” He smiled.
Yes, son. Yes it was.

Wheat is pretty "cool of Jesus."

You know what else?
Your dimple.
That was cool of Jesus, too.

Sick mama is so lame.

[image error]

Of all the modes and moods of mama, sick mama is my least favorite.
She’s no fun at all.
Her house is a mess and that makes her mad, but she is too tired to do anything about it.
She has no sense of humor.
She’s obviously weary, but she has no idea how to be both weary and loving at the same time.

The needs of her children demand of her what she cannot give without tremendous effort. She just wants to sleep, but little people won’t let her sleep, so she sits on the couch, in her robe, with her tea, and her scowl.
And how do the children react?
The Ignorant
To the littlest ones, sick mama looks just like fun mama. Their eyes are too immature to notice under-eye bags of vacant staring. They try to wrestle her. She remains passive. They push her too far, and the result is not pretty. They resolve to find trouble in another room.
[image error] The Compassionate (maybe too much)Some children take this quite seriously, and when they discover a sick mama in their home, they immediately become sick with her. She has not the energy to argue, nor the will to untangle the knots of mental and physical suffering. Sick mama just sighs, and welcomes the other ‘sick’ ones onto her couches.
The care giver“Mama if you are not going to church, can I stay home and take care of you?” she asked, and she meant exactly that. I told her no, but gave her ways to help before church. She did them all eagerly. When she left, the dishwasher was unloaded, the boys had their shoes on, and I had a gigantic cup of ice water.
Sick mama does do one thing well: she says thank you.
Thank you children, for taking care of me!
[image error]
I'll try not to be such a bear tomorrow.

photo credit

The Book Thief

I picked up a novel late last week.
What was I thinking? I should have taken the Christmas tree down, first.
But the tree is still up, and the novel is done.

The words will not let me go.

I had to finish it, I just had to. I knew I would never write again until it was done. I was not sure I would even sleep, but I did, somehow.

I even caught myself praying for my new friends, I mean, the characters of the book.  Then I reminded
myself they were not real, and backed out of God's throne room with a red face. (Don't you hate when that happens?)

And I picked up the book again.

I will never write a book this amazing, I thought, but I didn't waste any time in self-pity. The story was just too good.  I let it consume me, and I delighted in the art, in the words.

And still, the words will not let me go.

Read about this amazing book here.
Read the rest of my review on goodreads, if you like (spoiler alert)

Ridiculousness.

A little ridiculousness for you today.

It made this tired mama smile, and my little boys, too.

Today I am thankful for farmers, and for people with a sense of humor :)