Sanity Strategies ~ Homemaking Day + Win $250

Flashback to half a decade ago...

On a crisp fall morning  a kindly neighbor mother and I were discussing household chores while riding bikes together downtown to work. How do you do it all? How do you keep up and not get overwhelmed? Do the other family members have assigned chores or do you let the jobs get done at will?

On the topic of laundry she made mention of the fact that she did a load of laundry every night before bed.

Me, mother of one: Really? Every night? 

She, mother of two: You got it. Every weekday night. Otherwise I get too far behind and I will never be able to catch up.

Me, mother of one: I can not believe you have that much laundry.

She, mother of two: Oh, you just wait. When you have your second baby you'll be in the same boat. (I was pregnant at the time.)

Me, mother of one: No?!!! (While thinking to myself—Oh drats, I'm in for it.)

I could not make sense of the information she was downloading to my brain. It felt so confusing. Five loads of laundry a week. No way! That's a boatload of laundry.

Fast-forward half a decade to today...

Three active children. A backyard with a dirt pit on one side. Soccer players and dancers and Tonka truck explorers.

Honestly, I would be happy if I only had five loads of laundry a week. When I am on the ball—i.e. changing the bedsheets and alternating the bath towels as I should—I have at least ten loads to work into my busy schedule.

It is no easy task.

Half of my issue probably lies in the fact that I'm a laundry snob and I don't like anyone else to touch my laundry. I feel irritated when the children try to help. I prefer to do it all myself. I'm a little OCD like that.

This compulsion to do it all myself leads to certain problems. Regular problems. Can you guess the most common issue in my home before 7am any given weekday morning?

That's right. You got it. "Where are my socks? Doesn't he have any socks? Go find your socks child. Mommmmm... can you find my socks? Sweetie, how 'bout you just wear your Crocs today."

The thing about the laundry in my house—as I'm sure you can relate—is that it keeps growing. No matter how many loads I do, or how diligently I attempt to stay on top of it, the pile grows and grows and grows. If I don't do laundry for two days in a row, I'm swimming in it.

In my opinion, the laundry is complete when my laundry basket is no longer flowing over. A full to the brim laundry basket gives me utter satisfaction of a job well done. I'll admit, I haven't seen the bottom of my laundry basket since becoming a mother over seven years ago.

This year I've made some adjustments to my weekly schedule in an attempt to make sure everyone has clean socks and bedsheets and towels and jeans when they need them. The system isn't perfect, but it gets me closer to my goal of a laundry room I can walk in.

Enter Homemaking Day. 

For years now my system of accomplishing all I needed to accomplish in day fell under a category I like to call Buffet Style Task Fulfillment. Do a little of this and a little of that, everyday, all day. Each day I would attempt some desk work, some cooking, some errands, some cleaning, some laundry, some exercise, some socializing, some kiddie activities, so on and so forth. Turns out this Buffet Style approach to getting anything done left me accomplishing little to nothing in a day, and feeling utterly frustrated when the day was over for lack of completing any one task well. The pressure to do it all was overwhelming and underserving.

So this year I've instituted Homemaking Day—a day where I base myself entirely in my home focusing on cooking meals for the week, deep cleaning funky corners and hammering through the laundry pile. It is imperative to the success of my day that I don't confuse my intentions by attempting to do desk work, or pay bills, or do any amount of socializing. 

Homemaking Day has brought me great joy and satisfaction at the end of the day. By the time the kids are ready to be picked up from school, I can proudly say that I've cooked two to three dinners, made a batch of chai for the week, completed three to five loads of laundry (including the folding and putting away), and scrubbed some low to the ground corner that was getting a little too funky for comfort. 

The best part about Homemaking Day is that it has brought my family a less stressed-out mother, meals waiting in the refrigerator ready to eat, semi-sanitary conditions in the places that matter most, and best of all, clean socks. 

For all of you excited to implement Homemaking Day into your weekly routine, be warned, it's no walk in the park. To accomplish enough in the day to feel satisfied, you'll be running. I like to call it aerobic householding. Picture yourself running up and down the stairs putting laundry away like you were on a game show ready to win a $10,000 prize for the most loads of laundry and cleanest folding table in the shortest amount of time. Picture yourself leaning over three boiling pots on the stovetop and one steaming oven. Picture yourself dancing to the country music station blaring from the radio in your kitchen and smiling.

Working your tail off in the home just one day a week makes for a much more relaxed remaining six days. Give Homemaking Day a try this week. I'd love to hear how it works to meet your householding needs—not to mention your aerobic needs.

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This post is part of BlogHer's Life Well Lived — Getting Organized discussion happening right now at BlogHer.com

Join in the conversation by sharing your ideas and comments at http://www.blogher.com/fluff-and-fold-family

And by the way, there is a $250 Visa gift card sweepstakes happening over there as well! Share your best Life Well Lived Moments to be entered to win at http://www.blogher.com/life-well-lived-moments-sweepstakes-3-share-moment-and-enter-win-250

Good luck and happy homemaking, friends!

A Diversion: La Iguana

This summer in The Little White Kitchen I've been doing my fair share of dancing but have been majorly slacking in the recipe creation department. There are a number of reasons for this, namely...

1. I have been out-of-town or preparing to be out-of-town for nearly half of the summer.

2. I have been sick with a relentless head cold (could I be developing allergies for the first time in my life?) for the other half of the summer.

3. I do not have air conditioning in my house and it is 87 degrees in the kitchen before I even begin thinking about cooking dinner.

4. I have three rowdy children home all day, every day, and barely have a moment to think straight let alone concoct a fancy meal plan.

So there you have it. It's been salad and pasta and BBQ and tacos for this family for the past nine weeks. Despite how much I love summer, there is a little part of me that is longing for the rhythm and routine that comes with the start of a new school year. And then there will surely be more scrumptious gluten and dairy-free recipes coming your way.

Until then, a diversion from the packing and unpacking, the heat and the utter chaos constantly unfolding on the premises. 

La Iguana and Other Creatures: A Poem

'Twas an early summer day nearish the Pacific,

When up in the tree came a sight most terrific.

Over the branches and through the leaves,

Up climbed a massive iguana we just couldn't believe.

Small glimpses of its body didn't reveal quite its size,

Until he maneuvered out into the open to catch some flies.

He hung around for hours—so majestic, so grand.

A six foot long iguana—King of the Land.

It's the Simple Things in Life

"So, what's it like?" she says to me with bright eager eyes.

"What?" I ask knowing full well what she wants to know.

She's inquiring about my husband. She wants me to spill all the juicy details of having him back home now that his four year love affair with Grad School is officially over.

If I was collecting pennies for every time I have been asked this question over the past month I would have six dollars and twenty-four cents in my pocket.

Every girlfriend I see greets me with huge eyes and a smile that reaches from ear to ear. I can feel their excitement for me and my family. A lot of these women have walked alongside me over the years and have seen me through buckets of tears, fits of anger, physical exhaustion and mental delusion.

"I can't imagine what it must feel like."

"How different is it now?"

"Are you loving it?"

I must admit I'm walking on Cloud Nine, it feels so right and, yes, I absolutely love having him around. I simply can't get enough. By having him with us so much, I believe I am just now waking up from a dark haze to see what we were missing for so long.

First off, we accomplished more around the house in one weekend than had been attended to in an entire calendar year while he was in school. It blew my mind. Finally those squeaky doors, overcrowded closets and small—but important—handyman jobs got some much deserved attention.

In addition to cleaning out closets, over the past few weeks of summer vacation I have been working on centering myself in the things that are most important for the health of my family. 

I'm finding it's the little things that are the most meaningful to me. I have filled up my eye sockets with tears of joy more times than I can count since my sweet husband's graduation day. 

The main theme over the past few weeks in my family has been The Simple Life. (Was that a TV show? Who knows. We don't have TV. I think I recall something about Paris and Nicole. Must be a memory from the grocery store gossip magazines. Got to love those little treasures. Too much irrelevant information is imprinted on my brain from those five minute exposures. I will admit though, I do like these magazines. Put one in front of me and I'm captivated for hours. Is it because we don't have TV? Who knows. All I know is you should see me in a hotel room with cable TV. Oh, Lordy!)

Back to our house. Back to the simple life. Yes. A theme for us. Something to strive for.

The obvious truth is that it's the simple things that are the biggest blessings...

Sharing a cup of coffee together in the morning before walking into our respective workplaces.

A lunchtime communication just to ask, "How are the kids doing today?"

Playing catch in the backyard no sooner than walking through the front door.

Family meals. Two adults, three children. Finally a decent ratio.

Washing dishes in peace while someone else gets the kids ready for bed. Lord knows that I've hit my limit with the kids somewhere around the six o'clock hour. Who knew a woman could cling to the kitchen sink so desperately after dinner.

All that to say, focusing on the simple things in life has brought the most joy to our family over the past few weeks. And as of today I'm feeling inspired not to loose this feeling. So I'm creating a little project for myself.

Once a week I will be sharing a Simple Joy. Captured in a photo, one simple thing that brings me joy. Something that I see, feel, taste or experience that keeps me dancing in the kitchen. We all know that life can be hard, unpredictable and difficult to navigate at times. I'm fairly certain these realities won't ever disappear. Nor should they disappear entirely. It's the joy and the pain, the highs and the lows that make this such a rich and complex existence.

I'm excited to identify just a few of the highs on this here bloggy blog every Monday morning—one little way I can start my week off with positive perspective.

Moab Madness

Please excuse me if you haven't seen the dancing cook doing her dancing while cooking thang lately. It's not that I haven't been dancing and cooking. For I have. 

But I've also been dancing while doing a handful of other things over the past few weeks. 

Namely dancing while driving. 

Dancing while flying. 

Dancing while beaching. 

Dancing while dreaming. 

More time on the road has meant a whole lot of egg dinners, mushed beans and camp food. 

Despite the lack of kitchen time for me in the month of May—a welcome break mind you—I have had more than my fair share of outdoor time. 

Upon return from our graduation vacation to Mexico where we spent every bliss-filled day on the beach, we turned around the next morning and drove to Moab, Utah for the Memorial Day weekend.

The American West is a magical place to find yourself in the summer. The children insisted on referring to our destination as The Wild West where people do things the old fashioned way. Indeed it felt that way with the vast rocky landscape and endless blowing dust. 

The eight little kids on our camping trip were in outdoor adventure heaven in Moab. Despite the mad crowds for mountain biking, four-wheeling, ATV-ing, and camping over the holiday weekend we felt like we were the only ones out there in The Wild West. Within minutes of setting foot in camp the boys took to their bikes and dashed off to hunt dinosaur fossils.

I took to my camera and dashed off to capture the miraculous beauty of the desert found in the form of sparse vegetation,

wind,

and sky.

Perhaps the most interesting part of our trip to The Wild West town of Moab was the local city park where we spent a lot of time escaping the 55 mile per hour wind storms that were tearing through the camp higher up on the rocks.

This park had the most interesting playground equipment I'd ever encountered.

Large, big-as-life, musical instruments.

Chimes, drums, bells, xylophones and cow bells.

The kids were really into it. 

But I must say, I think the adults enjoyed it even more. By the time four adults were playing, it turned into a downright chorus of spontaneous jamming. 

A genius idea for a park. It was amazing and magical and just the right touch to end our weekend trip out to The Wild West.

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Speaking of xylophone's... all xylophone lovers must check this out. Do yourself a favor and watch this three minute clip. It is joyous!

Forest Xylophone Plays Bach

Away Weekend - St. Louis

Last weekend I had the good fortune of getting out of town. 

It was for a business event, but none-the-less, I left my three wild monkeys at home with their loving caregivers and I had more peace and quiet in one weekend that I've had all year. 

Every time someone texted to ask what I was doing, I proudly reported that I was sitting in my hotel room experiencing the wicked quiet that being by oneself affords. Thank God. Peace and quiet is an essential element of the human condition.

And when I wasn't sitting in the silent bliss of my room, I was doing other businessy kinds of things. Which, coincidently, is another essential element of the human condition.

And when I wasn't doing businessy kinds of things, I was dancing. Finally, the third essential element of the human condition. Go figure!

On Saturday night my colleagues and I took to the town. 

The next day my cheeks were sore.

Come on now, get your mind out of the gutter. It wan't the cheeks below the waist, it was the cheeks on my face.

I wish I had a picture to show you the perma-grin I had going all night long, but I left my camera at home in the good name of movin’ and groovin’.

Usually I come home from a night on the town with sore feet, sore legs and at times a sore head, but never have I reported sore cheeks. This was a first.

And what a first it was—a world music dance club in the Central West End of St. Louis called Club Viva. My girlfriends and I walked through a non-descrete side door, down the dark stairs and into another world. The dancefloor was small but the personalities were big. Men and women of all different ethnicities and nationalities, ages, shapes and sizes ripping it up on the beat-up hardwood floor.

Partner dancing was the name of the game in this basement club. I was finding it hard to believe that some of these folks were not professional Latin ballroom dancers in their day jobs. The moves. The grace. The sweat. The good cheer. All of it—blew my mind. These folks were incredibly serious about their dances.

It was hard to know who to watch. Every single one was worth feasting my eyes upon the whole night long. 

There was the young woman with infinitely long legs who moved like a majestic gliding swan in flight. 

And then the old woman, certainly older than my mother, dancing with a hip young man and keeping up with him every step of the way, pausing only to dab the perspiration from her brow and chest. Cute as a button.

The partner dancing wouldn’t be anything without the Spanish, African, Puerto Rican, and Mexican men leading the women around the floor with such strength and purpose. 

The lovely local friend who brought us to this spot told us the dancers ediquette is to clear the floor after every song. Without 30 seconds pause, the same dancers would be back, each time with a new partner, to tear it up for another round. As the night wore on, a charismatic Latin singer emerged from the crowd to belt the tunes and shake his maracas to the beat. Truly, I have never seen anything like it.

By the end of the night it became obvious to my friend and I that this type of dancing was clearly missing in our lives. It brings a certain richness that can't be described. What ever happened to dance halls of the past? How is it that I, nor most of my peers, haven't the faintest clue about how to partner dance?

What I loved most about this experience is that it brought my imagination back to a time in the US when dance halls were the thing to do for a night on the town. And dancing with a partner was the only way to dance in public. I could just picture my Grandmother and her peers out at the dance hall. I've made up my mind—we need more of this—I need more of this.

Hubby, get your dancing shoes on. We've got work to do.

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Hands down, the most jaw-dropping dance of the night was the Bachata. I could not believe my eyes when every single person on the dance floor broke into this sexy number that has its origins in the rural neighborhoods of the Dominican Republic.

Bachata

My Return to Mindful Eating

Today my pants have officially begun cutting off my circulation. 

A snip-it of my conversation with myself yesterday.

Me: It's time.

Myself: Time for what?

Me: You know. You've been building up to this moment for five weeks now.

Myself: Let's see, five weeks. That was Thanksgiving time.

Me: Exactly. Ever since that bountiful day in November the consumption of all things rich and sweet and fat-ful have made a permanent place in our kitchen and our hearts.

Myself: Well, what's so wrong with that? Rich, sweet and fat-ful - that's the good stuff right there, girl.

Me: There is nothing particularly wrong with rich, sweet and fat-ful. But I'll admit, I am frightened every time I glance down in the general direction of my midsection. I'm having flashbacks.

Myself: To what?

Me: Those early days of pregnancy. You know, when that little belly is hanging out and making a cute baby bump. Looking down and seeing that everyday scares me.

Myself: What's so wrong with a baby bump? We love baby bumps!

Me: Indeed we do love baby bumps. We're doulas and childbirth educators after all. We LOVE baby bumps. Love, love, love 'em. But seeing one of those around my waist is not anything I plan to don again anytime soon. Excuse me, I meant to say ever again.

Myself: Oh yea, now I remember our slogan - "Three is enough for me."

Me: Right.

Myself: Right.

So I welcome back mindful eating once again.

Let us remember that I buy most of my clothes from the garage sales hosted by the sorority girls in town. In order to fit in my jeans from those skinny little girls I have several principles I follow as I embrace mindful eating.

But before I outline them here, I'd like to take a trip down memory lane to remind me, myself and I of my true nature.

Over the past five weeks, it was not uncommon for me to...

Devour an entire batch of Heavenly Burnt Sugar Almonds before they've even had a chance to cool.

Enjoy an entire package of fake Oreos before bedtime.

Take a break with half a bowl of Puppy Chow when the dough stirring got tough.

Polish off pounds upon pounds of rich dough and savory bacon without a worry in the world.

Enough said.

Eating like this works for me only for a time. But not without end.

Every good thing must come to an end. Similar to Christmas music. Too much of it and it looses it's effect.

Reserving all this goodness for certain special occasions makes it all that much more enjoyable when I do have it.

Too much of this stuff can be a bad thing. Sugar crashes. Zits. Fatigue. Saddlebags. Not to mention all of the explaining I have to do when my kids ask why they can't eat an entire package of Oreos like mommy does. It gets tiring my friends.

So here's what I know I need to do to remedy this overindulgent situation...

Cut Sugar. Entirely. No, not just reduce the sugar. Eliminate it. My cravings are so fierce that I can't have just a bit of sugar and call it a day. Let us remember that bag of Oreos. I must rid my body of the urge to consume mass amounts of sugar. Every time I do this I have three terrible days of sugar withdrawals. Shaking included. This subsides into two hard weeks of battling my mental cravings. And then I'm home free. In my book "sugar" includes all refined sugars and sweet treats, sugar substitutes, fruit, fruit juices, etc. I do, however, reintroduce small portions of whole fruit once I've detoxed and am feeling stable.

Always Protein. If food enters the body, I must pair it with protein. Chips and hummus. Rice cake and peanut butter. Salad and hard boiled eggs. This way I avoid the tendency to eat half a bag of chips and call it lunch. Or a bowl of air puffed rice and call it breakfast.

Speaking of chips for lunch... I say Adios Potato Chips. Arrivederci. Au Revoir. Tam Biet. These fried morsels of goodness are my true downfall. If I'm not careful, I have days where potato chips are half my calories. This does not lead to optimal functioning for me or the pocketbook.

Embrace the Water. Drink water, water and more water.

Fuel Frequently. Eat every two hours. This boosts the metabolism and keeps the body from entering starvation mode. Which in turn makes it so much easier to make healthful choices throughout the day.

Fanciful Fats. I love me some fat. Avocados. Olive oil. Almonds. Flax seeds. Walnuts. Salmon. Coconut oil. Bacon. Including healthy fats in the diet keep the body running smoothly, the mind sharp and the belly full. Of course bacon isn't a healthy fat, but every girl needs her some indulgences. My leading rule of thumb is not to skimp on the fats while I'm working to reduce my waistline. It's the thing that helps me get through. Thank goodness.


Cut it off. I can't put a lick of food in my mouth after 7pm or else I'm doomed. I have a very bad habit of eating half my food for the day in the nighttime hours. Once I start it's nearly impossible for me to stop. It is so easy to fuel myself after the kids are in bed and the chaos of the house has settled down. During the day it can be hard to get a moment to eat a decent meal. I'm running here and there, changing diapers, filling water cups, sopping up spilled milk. My gosh, a woman's work is never done. Even when I do get a chance to sit down and eat, some little person is usually sabotaging my plate and stealing half the food on it.

These eating guidelines helped me to lose my last 20 pounds of baby weight this summer. I had more energy, greater focus, and more vibrancy for life than I've ever had before.

While all of the holiday indulgences were delightful, I look forward to my return to mindful eating.

Anybody with me?

26: WE Dance While YOU Cook

The Outlaws

Mama had an Energy Drain on Friday. It was a rather big one. My hand was to my temple for over thirty seconds and the deep resounding "oh" took a few iterations before the wild children remedied their behavior.

(Before I tell the tale of how this unfolded, let me begin by saying that from the picture above, I know you can't even begin to imagine that this small band of brothers - and sis - would be capable of stirring up any commotion. But believe me you, it's possible. It's possible.)

For those without small children, or those who haven't ever heard of Love & Logic parenting classes, the Energy Drain is a simple technique that works in a snap. Every time.

It goes a little something like this:

The children are acting like wild monkeys. Completely out of control. It might be that they are fighting, shouting at each other, running the other direction when I call, or any number of other deviant behaviors that can really get a mother's blood boiling.

Mama recognizes that this behavior must cease immediately. Mama quietly places her fingers on her temple and starts massaging. This is accompanied by a very low moan, something in the range of "oh", "ah" or "uh". Very low pitched. Very drawn out.

Typically the children will stop in their tracks the moment they see me doing this. Then they will ask, "Mama, did you have an Energy Drain on me? Or her?" And then demand, "Who mama? Who gave you the Energy Drain?"

If it was a full-out Energy Drain, which I classify as necessitating more than five seconds of this routine, the children are then in a position of regaining my energy. This might look like spending quite time in their rooms, washing windows, tidying the house, or any other number of special projects that might have otherwise required my energy to complete. Anything to help mama regain her energy so that we can carry on with the day peacefully.

On the way home from school on Friday, I couldn't help but laugh when my oldest had a suggestion for regaining my energy.

He said, "Mom. I have an idea of how to regain your energy. We dance while you cook."

To which I replied, "Well, yeah. Of course, that's what we always do when we cook."

"No," he countered. "WE dance, while YOU cook. That should regain your energy."

I was nearly in tears.

Week 26 Meal Plan

Monday - Five Fold Burrito
Tuesday - Beef Pot Pie
Wednesday - Depression Era Pasta e Fagioli
Thursday - Taco Bowl
Friday - Red Lentil Soup
Saturday - Spiced Chicken with Stubby Vegetables

Friday Night Round-Up: Week 29

$157.45

I splurged a bit on this week's shopping list. I bought the decadent ingredients for Molten Chocolate Lava Cakes with Raspberries. They were divine! Well worth exceeding the weekly budget by $7.45.

In other news, Halloween brought a new flavor to The Little White Kitchen this week.

I think I may cook in this get-up more often. Why not dance a-go-go while popping those molten lava cakes in the oven?

Be sure to keep a close eye on the stray blond hairs from your wig. The cheap ones shed terribly.

This will help set the mood for the next episode of Dance While You Cook - Costume Edition...

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I dedicate this week's meal plan to Bubba. My dancing inspiration.

Monday - Red Lentil Soup
Tuesday - Fish Tacos on the Grill
Wednesday - Spiced Chicken with Stubby Vegetables
Thursday - Lunchbox Green Salad
Friday - Mama's Beef Stew
Saturday - BBQ Beans & Rice with Grilled Squash
Sunday - leftovers/ out to eat