Happy Thanksgiving!

Me...a million years ago.  I was 17.

Life Lessons of a Rodeo Queen

Today is a day of thankfulness and peace. Today is a day of too much food and not enough stomach.

Today is the day when everything around us becomes the wild crazy land of --the holidays are here!  What are we going to do?!  I am not ready!

Well, I'm never ready.  I work best under pressure anyway, so it's nothing new to me.

But what I've learned is that the most precious thing I can do today and each day throughout the insanity of the holiday season is to just take a moment.

Take a moment to sip my tea and watch the snow fall outside my window.

Take a moment and listen to the laughter of my children.

My Mother...she was the age I am now...37.

Take a moment and think of those who aren't sitting with me this year: my brother, my father, my mother.  And wish them well in the realm beyond ours.

Take a moment and relish the insanity. It is wild, really.  The new puppy is zipping here and there.  The two year old is running into things--on purpose.  The six year old is too busy reading to help sweep the floor.  The ten year old is so busy being a busy body, she forgets and puts the milk in the pantry.  The nineteen year old is so wrapped up in his world that he forgets what day it is.

The husband--he's trying very hard to pick up the slack--but is sent to watch football instead.

And me, well, I am sitting at the table waiting for the last pie to get finished. Drinking tea and watching the snow fall on the mountains of Montana.  I am taking that moment.

The last big snowfall...the view from my deck.

Happy Thanksgiving.  I am so thankful for you. Thank you for stopping by and leaving me notes.  Thank you for sharing pieces of your world with me.  I love to laugh with you.

Slainte!


What moments do you cherish this time of year?

Letting Go of the Reins

Life Lessons of a Rodeo Queen
Lesson #4

Many of you know, I have four kids.  They amaze me on a daily basis.  I am moved to tears of pride so often because of their talents and wonderful hearts.

Lately though, this mother has been having a hard time letting go.  Recently, I took my oldest daughter to audition for a play. Normally, this would not be a big deal.  I have been a theatre director for almost 10 years.  I love the theatre and am so excited for her to be involved with it.  Yet, I had so many worries.  What if she doesn't get a part she likes?  What if they're mean to her?  What if she trips? What if she doesn't get a part at all!

I was so worked up that I almost went back inside and got her.  Or at the very least, sat with her.

But, I didn't.  And everything turned out just fine!  She was a beautiful member of The Secret Garden cast, and we cheered for her with roses and all--for she was the Star of the Night in our family.

And I learned that it's okay to let go of the reins.  To let life teach and let my kids step out on their own.

You'll have to remind me of this soon...we have the Nutcracker coming up!

What have you done lately where you've let go of the reins?

Make Breakfast

Life Lessons of a Rodeo Queen

Lesson #3

I am busy person. Four kids, husband, cats, horse—well soon to be horse. We’re fixing her fence as we speak. I’ve heard all of my life that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. When I was growing up, we always had breakfast.

I’ve always cooked breakfast. We have all manner of things: scrambled eggs, spinach omelets, whole-wheat toast, protein fruit smoothies, scones etc…

But, this summer, we were so busy, I tried the cold cereal route. I thought tossing a couple boxes of cereal on the table with a few bowls and spoons would do the trick for breakfast.

Not so.

I learned pretty fast that the best way to have happy, smiling children at 10 am is to make breakfast. Same goes for a happy, smiling husband.

So I thought I’d share a recipe that is a hit at our house: Sunday Morning Cinnamon Waffles with homemade Buttermilk Syrup.

Cinnamon Waffles

2 egg yolks
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup buttermilk
1/4 cup butter, melted
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 tablespoon brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 egg whites
½ tsp of ground cinnamon

Preheat your waffle iron.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, buttermilk and butter until well
blended. Combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda, sugar, salt and cinnamon; stir into
the buttermilk mixture. In a separate bowl, whip the egg whites and vanilla with an electric
mixer until stiff. Fold into the batter.

Spoon batter onto the hot waffle iron, close, and cook until golden brown. Top with homemade buttermilk syrup.

Buttermilk Syrup

1 1/2 cups white sugar
 3/4 cup buttermilk
1/2 cup butter
2 tablespoons corn syrup
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 teaspoon baking soda

In a large saucepan, stir together the sugar, buttermilk, butter, corn syrup. Bring to a boil on medium heat and cook for 7 minutes.

Remove from the heat. Add the baking soda. *Warning—this will make the mixture foam. I add the baking soda and then quickly stir with a whisk lifting the whisk up and back in a circular motion—almost like scrambling eggs. This will dispel the foam so it doesn’t overflow over the edges of the pan.

Stir in the vanilla.

Pour over warm Cinnamon Waffles.

Add in a nice cup of coffee or tea and you’ve got happiness all around.

What breakfast menu is a hit in your house?

You Say It, "I'm Beautiful!"

Life Lessons of a Rodeo Queen

Lesson #2

It was years ago when I was in college.  I had one of those  friends.  One of those amazing girls who we are just lucky enough to meet.  And later to call a friend.  She drove me crazy.

She was loud and she swore and she said too many things way too fast.  She asked too many questions and had too many opinions.  And she was always late.  Or early for tomorrow, she'd say.  And then she'd laugh.  One of those laughs that are so contagious you can't help but join in, no matter how annoyed.


One day I was having a down day.  Now, looking back I don't even remember why.  I don't remember what had happened to make me feel cruddy.  That is not what I remember about that day.   But, what I do remember is this...My friend, the girl who drove me bananas...saw me looking down at my feet as I walked along toward class.

She grabbed me by the arm, pulled me to the nearest bathroom and shoved me inside.  And she said, I want you to learn how to do something right damn now!  You look in this mirror and you say, "I am beautiful."  

I laughed.  Nearly disgusted at how silly that sounded.

"You do it," she said.  "We aren't leaving until you do."

I looked at her.  Glared at  her. Rolled my eyes and said, "I'm beautiful." In the most pitiful way possible.  

She said a really loud swear word that had the girl in the stall behind us slink out without even a second glance.  "You do it, and you believe it."

I shook my head.  And took a deep breath.  I looked in the mirror.  I saw my friend's determined face and my irritated one.  I saw her standing there supporting me instead of going to literature class.  I saw her the way she would be years from then as a teacher--guiding others to believe in who they saw in the mirror.

I blinked and tried to ignore the tears forming.  "I'm beautiful." I said with more conviction than the last time.

"I can't hear you!  Come on!"

"I am beautiful!"  I yelled.  And I was too.  I could see it.  I could see the power that declaration had made upon my face.  My eyes were brighter, my face more focused, my body more strong.

The beauty had nothing to do with the make-up I'd smeared on that morning, or the clothes I tried to pick out to make myself feel better.  Those were hollow choices.  The beauty came from me believing I was just that--beautiful.

More than a decade has passed since that day in the bathroom with my irritating friend.  I have three daughters, a husband, a crazy cat and a son who all depend upon me.  There have been many times I have looked in the mirror and crinkled my nose at the left-over baby pudge that's hanging around.  I have gasped and leaned in as close as possible to see if I really do have a gray hair!

But, I haven't forgotten what I learned.  I've even been known to say it out loud once or twice--a week. It's a good thing to know.  I've shared the lesson with my daughters.  The nine year old is proud to say it.  The six year old laughs and laughs.  The 18 month old...just says "pitty".  And that's enough for now.

So maybe the next time you stand in front of the mirror, and you feel like crinkling your nose for one reason or another, why don't you try saying, "I'm beautiful."

Stand up straight, tilt your head to one side and smile as you say it.  You'll be amazed at how gorgeous you are.

       

Remember the Lipstick

Life Lessons from a Rodeo Queen

Lesson #1

I have learned that no matter what wild thing is going on in my life, if I pause and put on a bit of decoration, a bit of lipstick, I feel more beautiful...

I have four children ranging from 19 years old to 19 months. Sometimes all I can do in the morning is manage to brush my teeth and hide my hair under a large-toothed clip. And, honestly, that's if I'm lucky.

I put on my yoga pants fully intending to go through my much loved routine, but alas, no yoga for me. I try to find socks that match in my daughter's drawer because she's forever taking mine. 

I rarely get to drink the coffee or the tea I so meticulously make in the morning. By dinner time, it is just sitting on the counter, lonely, where I left it at 7:00 a.m. so I could chase Miss Molly around the living room.

By 3:00 p.m. when it's time to pick up my other daughters from school, I'm a frenzy of activity, trying to find my shoes, because the tiny one walked off with them. I stop to look in the mirror on my way out the door and see my hair has come loose from it's hurried early morning imprisonment. Of course it did! Why wouldn't it.

I love going to town looking like a scarecrow with too much straw for hair and mismatched socks wearing my husband's sandals because they were the only shoes I could find!

But, I know that my secret weapon is in my car, waiting for me. It's a simple shade of red; a lip stain that brushes on my lips like a refreshing tonic. I take a second only to pull down my visor, crane my neck to look in the miniature mirror where only my lips are visible. I apply the lipstick and smile.

My lips are pretty. My lips are kissable. I feel beautiful.