Pineapple Upside Down Cake

(this isn't my cake..this is the Internets cake)

 

 

What do you do when you have a fresh sponge bob house (that's my children's word for pineapple...smh)  on hand and the afternoon alone? 

You make a pineapple upside down cake.  That's what you do.  It's only right.  You also can go to the tanning bed afterwards if you want to be like me. 

Most recipes I get from  Paula Deen or Pioneer Woman.  Then if need be I tweak them until they are exactly how I want them.  Both those ladies KNOW how to cook. 

This cake is different. 

It was dreamed up in my head while driving to the grocery store.  Pardon me if I don't use my turn signal, blow through yellow lights or drive recklessly.  I'm thinking about really good food I need to make!  I can justify anything ;)

This sucker is GOOD.  Like "did I really just make such an awesome cake all by my ownself?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!" kinda good. 

So here you go!  A Rebecca Original. 

Pineapple Upside Down Cake

3 cups cake flour
1 package instant vanilla pudding
2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt

1 cup butter (softened)
2 1/4 cup sugar
5 eggs
1 tsp vanilla

2 1/4 cup buttermilk

1/2 cup melted butter
2 cups brown sugar

1 whole pineapple (FRESH!!!!!!!!!) cut into slices.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees

In a large bowl, beat 1 cup butter until creamy. Gradually add the sugar, beating until fluffy. Add the eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. Stir in the vanilla and set aside.

In a small bowl, add the 3 cups of flour, baking powder, and salt. Stir to combine. Add the flour mixture into the egg mixture alternately with the buttermilk, beginning and ending with the flour mixture.

Divide the brown sugar evenly into each pan. Pour the melted butter equally over the brown sugar. Arrange the pineapple slices over the brown sugar.

Bake for 35-45 minutes.  I always do a toothpick test ;)

Allow the cake to cook and then pop that sucker out onto a pretty platter! 

Invite your best friend over (hi Melissa!!!) and eat until your embarrassed and have to unbutton your pants ;)

Better...not Bitter.

I'm feeling better than I have felt in a very, very long time. 

I recently did a "self-check" and was very disappointed in several... SEVERAL areas in my life. 

The only person to blame was myself. 

Boo!  Hate it when that happens!!  You wouldn't believe how much I enjoy blaming others for my shortcomings.  It's fun ;)

I lose myself in our children.  Whatever I do is usually for them.  I say all the time "I'd die for my babies!!"  but when I looked at my behavior I had to ask myself if I was actually "living" for them. 

After we received the news on our sweet baby girl I found myself crying for HOURS and HOURS.  Non-stop tear festival.  If I wasn't crying I was moping. I put on a smile when facing the outside world...but I did as much as I could NOT to face the outside world.  My social anxiety went through the roof!  I used to be a social butterfly and I found myself avoiding any and all contact with the outside world.  No fun. 

Over the years I have turned into an OCD freak-a-zoid.  So much of our world is out of my control.  I can't control the state of my fertility...or lack of fertility.  I can't control the fact that we've had several miscarriages.  I can't control how long we get to keep or if we get to keep our foster babies.  So much of our world (and I'm sures your world as well) is so far out of my control that I often feel like I'm in a tornado trying to grasp onto something...ANYTHING.  Just trying to hold on.  So, in an effort to "manage" something I turned into an uptight "managing" nightmare.  This has been difficult for me to accept because I have always taken pride in my ability to "roll with the punches", and admired my laid back glass half full attitude. 

My control freak self quickly began to pick up on areas in which I could have sole control.  Our closets, the way the dishes are washed, how the floors are cleaned, what type of clothing my children wear, how our towels are folded, and any other aspect of how our house runs. 

Don't cook for me, because if I cook I get to control every element of the meal. 
Don't wash my dishes because I have a tried and true method in which I clean bottles.  I'd hate for you to do it wrong.
Don't fold my laundry, you don't know how I like it done. 

Wanna know something?  When I was growing up that is the one thing I wanted to change about my grandmother.  She accidently hurt my feelings because when I'd offer to help I quickly learned whatever I did would never be good enough.  I certainly do not set out to hurt my children's feelings when they offer to help, and I know Ma didn't mean to either.  But it still comes across incredibly hateful.  I'm not OK with that. 

Then came the anxiety attacks.  Fierce and often.  Some days it felt like I was going to die of a heart attack.  Turns out my ticker is ticking just fine...but my anxiety is out of control. 

It was time to step up and become accountable for how I was choosing to live my life.  I was no longer the care free fun girl my husband married.  I missed her.  Although he never ever said it and has been the most supportive person imaginable I know he missed her too.  I'm not silly enough to think I'll ever return to exactly who I used to be, and that doesn't need to be my goal.  I've lived a lot since then, my heart has gone through a lot since then, and I want those experiences to BETTER me, not BITTER me.

So, I'm taking steps toward getting better.  I started seeing a therapist, and along with medication I am feeling MUCH better.  Am I an advocate for medication?  No.  But it was the right decision for me.  I refuse to feel guilty about that.  I own it, I've accepted it, and I'm a much easier person to be around now.  It doesn't make me weak.  I used to think that is what taking medication would equate too.  I thought I should be able to shoulder EVERYTHING.  Shut up and take it outside.  That was my mentality.  I crashed and burned because of that mindset. 

So, here I am.  Being painfully transparent.  These are areas of my life I'd rather keep under wraps but I know that if I have struggled with these feelings than their may be others out there who have struggled with this too.  At the end of the day I want other mamma's out there to know that help is available.  You are fixable...but you must be flexible. 

Do I believe I've been healed?  Nope.  I'm a work in progress.  I'll have good days and I'll have bad days but the bad days don't have to be so frequent anymore.
Do I attribute medication to all the positive changes that have taken place?  No.  God is my deliverer and ever present help in times of trouble. 
Do I believe I had to be humbled and finally come to grips with the fact that I no longer could handle all that my life includes?  Yes. 

I want to be the best wife, the best mother, and the best ME I can possibly be.  I can finally say that I'm taking steps to being a better me.  Not a bitter me. 

Do Something.

This post is not easy for me to write.

I hate confrontation. 

Hate.  It. 

To a fault I will avoid confrontation. 

I don't just hop on board the latest band wagons and preach from atop my soap box.  I'm entirely to passive for that. 

I will silence my beliefs to avoid an argument.

The thought of confrontation keeps me up for nights on end. 

Shew!  Can't. Handle.  It. 

I didn't wake up this morning looking for a fight.  But I found one.  Or maybe one found me. 

I can't remain silent.  I can't silence my beliefs .  Its high time we as HUMANS (note: I did NOT say Christians) start taking a stand for something other than a red equals sign on our facebook pages. 

I've heard the arguments.  I've met the mothers.  Nothing has swayed my beliefs that abortion is not a choice we get to make. 

I am currently raising children who fit the "pro-choice" reasoning for abortion.

They were not planned
They were born to parents who could not/would not take care of them.
They were born into low income families.
They were born addicted to a myriad of drugs.
They are mentally and physically disabled.
They were labeled "mistakes".

Don't come to me with a song and dance about why it is acceptable in your circumstances.  I'm not buying what you're selling. 

Does the thought of BABIES spinal cords being snipped turn your stomach?  It should.  It better. 
It's happening. 

You can do what I usually do and bury your head in the sand and ignore what is happening. 

Life is easier that way. 

However I've learned the hard way that what's right and what's easy are rarely the same thing. 

What are we going to do about it? 

We can write blogs, facebook posts, and talk to our friends about it.  I think that's called "Raising awareness".  Good for us.

We must take it further. 

If babies stop being slaughtered who's going to raise them? 

It's common sense.  Less babies murdered means more babies alive. 

Who's going to take care of them?

Hate to break it to you but if a mother can walk into a clinic to have her child beheaded the chances of her raising that child are slim to none. 

We are really good at letting the world know we disagree with abortion but we think that is all we have to do.  We're raising awareness!  Pat me on the back please.

What can you do?

Are you willing to love on mamma's who feel like abortion is the only choice they have?  That can get messy...you might have to get your hands dirty. 

Are you willing to provide homes for babies who dodged the abortion bullet only to end up in homes where they are abused and neglected?  It's hard work.  24 hours a day 7 days a week kinda work. 

Are you willing to provide financial assistance to orphanages and foster agencies who work day in and out keeping our future generations fed and clothed and educated?  You might not get to go out as much or you might even have to eat a pb&j every once in a while.  Ouch. 

Are you willing to open your home to a young pregnant mother who has been rejected because she chose to keep her child instead of abort it?  That could be uncomfortable...don't know about that one.

The Philidelphia Abortion Clinic should anger you.  It should disgust you.  You should share it with any and everyone who will listen.  You should not let it end with that. 

Do something.  Step outside of your comfort zone and do something. 

Babies need homes.  Mamma's need love.  Money is needed. 

Do something. 

"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."

When He Sings...

Allen and I can categorize our life as a couple into 2 separate parts. 

Life before Ethan.
Life after Ethan.

I don't think this is un common with most married couples.

There is life before you become a parent.
And life after you become a parent. 

It's the circle of life.  Hakunah Matata. 

I've never glossed over the fact that Ethan came into our lives like a tornado. 

Before: I had read about kids who come from troubled homes. 
After:  I lived with one

Before:  I had read and seen kids with severe adhd and oppositional defiant disorder.
After:  I lived with one.

Before:  I knew people who had preconceived and judgemental notions about race, and un ruley children. 
After:  I found out they were in my immediate circle.  And even (gasp!) in our families.

Before:  I'd heard about the love a mother has for her son.
After:  I experienced that passion.  In my life.  Every single day. 

Ethan's a fighter.  He had to be.  You don't survive what he did for as long as he did and come out passive and precious.  To survive He had to fight.  Every single day of his life for 4+ years.  I am so proud of him for getting through that time.  I am sad that in order to survive he had to fight, but I am proud he chose kicking and screaming over laying down and taking it. 

In a perfect world you could erase 4 years of trauma with 5 minutes of "we don't do that in this house". 

In the real world it takes work. 
And therapy.
And prayers.
And miracles.
and more therapy.
and more prayers.
a few more miracles.
more therapy.

God and therapy.  It's a good combo folks.  Give it a try.

Everyday we learn more about who he is, see more of who he is becoming, uncover more quirky funny personality traits, roll our eyes at stupid critical people..and teachers ;), and each day brings new insight into what his future may hold.  Some days it's good insight, and some days it's discouraging. 

When we've had a few days, and sometimes weeks of discouraging "stuff" come up I quickly spiral into annoying worry mother mode.  I speak things over him I shouldn't, I take on all the hiccups of his journey on my shoulders and lose myself and my sanity wondering what we shoulda, woulda, coulda, done differently. 

Parenting is jam packed full of "you really could have handled that situation better.  you have probably scarred your innocent children for life" kinda moments.  It's fun.  Not.

On Easter Sunday we had about 2 hours of traveling to do.  Since I like to be the boss of what kind of music we listen to I quickly had southern gospel music blaring through our speakers. 

My son gave me a real life Jesus encounter during that car ride. 

As Vestal Goodman was playing He was singing.  He knew every word.  When one song was over he'd ask for another "church" song.  For 2 solid hours my son sang his little heart out. 

Through music he knows the Word. 

It gave me peace.  People can say what they want.  Ethan knows the Word of God. 
You can put ten thousand labels on him and roll your eyes when he doesn't make the kind of progress you think he should.  But God has the hairs on that babies head numbered and I leave HIS future in HIS creators hands. 

He is different.  Different is good!  Different is great!  God can use his differences and do things with Ethan I can't even dream of!  John the Baptist was a wierdo!  He ate bugs in the woods!!!  Not normal!!!  Did they try and medicate him?  Stick a stupid label on him? Most likely.  But John knew Jesus...and most importantly Jesus knew John.  So weirdo John turned out o be a pretty big deal.  Booya!

It isn't my job to break Ethan's will.  In fact if I break his will in hopes of turning him into a normal little boy than I have left him more damaged than I found him.  It is my job to lay him at the feet of Jesus who has the ability to do exceeding and abundant things with his amazing fighting spirit. 

It's my job to encourage his individuality.  Not turn him into "every other kid".
It's my job to seek out people with more knowledge than I have and find out new ways to help him be who God wants him to be. 
It's my job to say "Don't talk about or to my son that way ever again.  God's got him."
It's my job to be his soft place to land. 
It's my job to plead the blood of Jesus Christ over his life. 

In the midst of my mommy worry session.  Ethan showed me Jesus.  Thank you.  Every single bit of you makes me the proudest mother ever. 

A few funnies

1.  When I have zero time to compose posts for this here blog I have nothing but wonderful, funny, life changing blog material rolling though my head.  When I have time to blog and can really sit down and produce something that's worth publishing I come up with jack squat.  I think this is officially known as writers block.  Is there a pill for this?  I'd totally pop that sucker.  Recently I thought of a solution to this problem.  I'd jot down blog ideas or important things I"d like to discuss on sticky notes.  Quick and painless and that way when I have time at 2:30am I can sit down and write out posts.  So at 2:30 the other morning I went through my sticky notes.  This is what I found...

"That funny story about Ethan"
"inspirational song on the radio"
"life changing lesson"

All those stupid little sticky notes did was prove to me that I have short term memory loss.  I couldn't remember any funny story about Ethan,  I had no flippin clue what song I was referring to, and what life changing lesson?  Huh?  Who wrote these stupid things anyway.  Not me.  Dory maybe but not me.  That's not even my hand writing.  Wait....that kinda looks like my handwriting.  Whatever.  Sticky Note Fail. 

2.  I'm childless for the next few days.  Well let me rephrase... I'm toddler-less for the next few days.  I still have my eldest to drive insane.  Do you know what toddler-less stay at home mothers are supposed to do during the day?  I'll tell you.  We are expected to get stuff done.  What?  Yep.  True story.  All excuses are gone.  Let me elaborate.

"Sorry hunny.  I haven't showered in 17 weeks, and yes I have been wearing these same clothes for 10 days now.  Do you have a problem with that???  Because let me tell you it isn't easy having 3 toddlers to take care of all by my own self during the day.  They destroy things and each other when left unattended.  I don't want that on my conscious.  Thank you very much."

"Do you mind picking up food on your way home?  I haven't had time to go to the store, or cook since....ever.  Do you have a problem with that???  Because let me tell you one thing right now YOUR children have driven me crazy today and it's a miracle we're still in one piece.  Be grateful for that.  I'll take a whopper.  Please. "

"So the bad news is our house is a mess. The good news is it's still standing.  I've been chasing around babies all day."

You get the point.  I could keep going...but I'll spare you.

My current circumstances leave me with a house that needs a good deep cleaning and no toddlers to keep up with.  My good excuse just flew out the window. 

Furthermore...

When I manage to be super productive during the day (rare.  very rare) and clean the house, do the laundry, while still keeping up with our sweet babies I'm considered supermom. 

"wow!!  how do you do it all??!!"
"Your house looks wonderful!!  How do you do it all?!?!?!?!"
"Supermom. Becky you are totally supermom."

That enough to make a girl feel good...and pressured...but still good. 

Do you know what happens when I'm at home with the dog all day and I manage to get things accomplished?

"Congratulations.  You got out of bed." 

It's a bummer.


3.  I'll leave you with a funny story...
While riding down the road in our kick tail gold mini van I ever so delicately slid my flip flops off and propped my size 9 un_manicured feet up on the dash.  I'm all about comfort.  At the exact same time a semi truck hauling cattle and 7 days of cow poop passed by.  At the time I just wrote it off as a semi.  No one has ever accused me of being observant.  I was unaware of the 17 day old poop aroma it was about to send barrelling into our van.  Moments after I jammed my nasty feet up on the dash a smell rises up inside our van.  It was one of those singe your nostril kinda stenches.  Being the lady that I am I oh so delicately slid my feet down off the dash and promptly stuck them back into my flip flops hoping that I was the only one who noticed the smell that followed my bare footed-ness.  I said nothing.  First smeller is the feller.  That's the kind of sound wisdom I grew up with.  A little bit later on down the road when the smell only got worse, AND I heard a loud "mooooooooo" coming out of no where I realized that it wasn't my feet that smelled bad at all!  It was traveling 77 day old cow poop.  I did a brief happy dance and stuck my feet back up on the dash.  Victory!  Being the southern lady I am I also shouted "ha!  that ain't my feet that stink!! SCORE!!!!!!!".  I'm just trying to keep it classy.  I do all I can when I can. 

We are blessed.

This post was worn me out. 

I've written it. 
And deleted it. 

and I've re-written it.
Then I deleted it.

and I've repeated that about 900 times.

Vicious. Cycle.

We are preparing to say goodbye to our little girl.
I'm not willing to say this is our final goodbye because the future holds many possibilities.

But, a goodbye is in store.

Publicly we are doing our best to walk through this season gracefully.
Privately...we cry.

We fall in love with the children who enter our lives, and it is very difficult to release them into situations where I don't feel they should be.  I have to realize that I don't make the rules, I have to play by the ones that others have made for me.  I don't have to like them, accept them, or agree with them.  But I agreed to play this game, knowing what the rules were.  And I don't get to throw in the towel or be nasty when I don't feel that those rules are "fair".

Without "those" rules we wouldn't have Ethan.  You have to take the salt with the sugar.

My head has all the right responses.

My head knows...
 Joy comes in the morning!
All things work together for good!
We'll understand it better by and by

I have all the right bible verses, I  know it won't always be THIS hard, I understand that in order to have what we have now we had to loose others, I know we'll get through this.  I KNOW all of that.  I get it!  I know!!!!! 

My heart just hurts right now. 

My heart is mourning all the dreams I had for her future with us. 

She still has a beauitful future awaiting her. 

We do to. 

It just isn't the way I thought it would happen.

Worse things have happened...my head knows that.

We will miss her.  She was been nothing but a joy since the day we laid eyes on her.   I am so thankful to have been given the chance to be her mommy.  It changed my life.  She changed my life. Regardless of what I feel, how I feel, or if I even have a right to feel at all...I am grateful.  I am blessed to have what we did.  So very blessed. 

We'll get through this.  We always do.  While it is still overwhelmingly sad right now, we are still overwhelmingly blessed.  I still am required to be a mommy to our other babies and I don't want their mother to be sad and bitter...THEY don't want their mother to be sad and bitter. In the midst of all my shortcomings and failures I hope they see that I am trying to do this the best way I know how, as much as I can.  I pray they see grace when they remember these times.  Because I can't do this on my own.  I am way to human and hormonal to get through this alone.  That's why there's grace.  And His grace is ALWAYS sufficient. 

It is my prayer that we not lose sight of all we have been blessed with.  The loss is so obvious at times that I lose sight of what we've gained.  We are blessed. 

Now, more than ever the cry of my heart is...
The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. 
Blessed be the name of the Lord. 

Eating Crow

I was one of them. 

You know.  I've bet you've met one of them.

The group of pre-family females who know everything there is to know about how to have a perfect household and perfect children. 

I was one of them. 

I never came out and said anything.  I'm entirely to passive aggressive for that type of confrontational behavior. 

Instead I perfected the "look".

Whenever I encountered parents "doing it all wrong" I would give them a look. 

It was 25% "you clearly know nothing about raising perfect children"

25%  "you must be ignorant and obviously don't know any better"

25%   "well bless you're heart!  Are you one of those liberals who don't believe it beating your child's hind end?"

and...

25%  "I can't wait until I'm a parent so I can do it perfectly."

Surely "the look" would encourage all parents to shape up and start raising their children correctly!!  Right????? 

Since I clearly knew everything about parenting I thought I'd take my knowledge and start applying it. 

Ethan entered our lives in 2009 and I've been eating crow and RECEIVING "the look" ever since.
Since I've been eating a great deal of humble pie for quite some time now I have no problem sharing with you all the areas that the former me would scold and judge the current me about. 

Grocery Shopping-

Former Self:   Children should remain in the cart at all times.  Seen not heard.  Dressed impeccably.   They will NEVER ask for anything, cry for anything, or beg for anything.  Pitching fits is strictly prohibited because let's face it.....MY children would NEVER do such a thing. 

Current Self:  During my last shopping excursion I broke all my former rules.  Multiple times. 

My 8 year old scattered approx 900 coupons through the store.  You could easily retrace all our steps just by following the paper trail. 

My 3 year old quickly took his place in the drivers seat of the "car cart".  He proceeded to yell "BEEP!!!  BEEP!!!!! BEEP!!! BEEP!!!  OUTTA MY WAY!!!!!!!!!!  I'M COMIN THROUGH!!!!!!!!!! FASTER!!!!!!!!!!! FASTER!!!!!!!! BEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" throughout the shopping trip. 

My 1.5 year old pitched a fit for the following items: balloons, strawberries, grapes, candy, drinks, and crayons.  He also did a swan dive off the buggy and landed on a display for super bowl Sunday. 

My 1 year old screamed bloody murder unless she was able to stand up in the cart backwards. 

Feeding-

Former Self:  All foods served from my kitchen would be full of nutrition, organic when possible, wholesome, comforting, homemade, and delicious.  Baby food would also be made fresh daily with all "natural" ingredients. 

Current Self:  For dinner last night we had chef boy-r-dee, and left over tater tot casserole.  I almost asked my dear sweet husband to stop on his way home and get us something but the thought of being the only parent for an additional 5-10 minutes caused me to squash that idea.  Baby food?  Well....I've learned to embrace Gerber and beech nut.

Discipline-

Former Self:  I would never ever argue with my children.  I would make the rules, they would follow the rules, and always do what I ask them to on my first request.

Current Self:  I have this conversation with my 1.5 year old A LOT.
Me:  Give that to me
1.5:  no
me: now
1.5: no
me: please?
1.5: no
me: yessssssss
1.5:  nooooooooo
me:  I said please!!!!!
1.5: no
me:  ALLENNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Make him give it back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I hope you enjoyed this session of "eating crow".  I have many more examples to share but it will have to wait, I need to go argue with one of my children.