Boiled Peanut Hummus: A New Twist on a Southern Tradition

By: Mary Pat Baldauf

I was well into my twenties before I acquired a taste for the fine Southern delicacy of boiled peanuts, but now I love ‘em! As soon as I saw this recipe for Boiled Peanut Hummus, I knew I’d have to try it. It’s every bit as good as you’d think, then some. It’s not unhealthy if eaten in moderation, and it’s a great “make and take” party food. I serve mine with pita chips or bagel chips.

Boiled Peanut Hummus

Ingredients:

• 1 ½ cups shelled boiled peanuts
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1/4 teaspoon salt (I omitted this because boiled peanuts are already pretty salty.)
• 1/4 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning
• 1 teaspoon lemon juice
• 1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

Directions:

Mix all ingredients in food processor. Pulse a few times and then process until hummus is smooth. To thin the hummus to the consistency of your liking, add water, a tablespoon at a time. Best after twenty four hours in the fridge; this allows the flavors to “marry.”

No Longer Scared of Splinters

By: Leah Prescott

A wonderful thing happened this afternoon.

My daughter got a splinter.

I know, you’re thinking, “How is that a good thing?”

That’s a valid question.

Today, I took the three kids to the park with a few friends to enjoy the beautiful weather. After the cloudy and rainy days we’ve been having, it was a huge treat to just soak up the warm afternoon. We were enjoying it so much that I let the kids ditch their shoes and run around barefoot. After about thirty minutes of running around like crazy, my eight-year-old walked up to me. “I’ve got a splinter,” she announced. “Ok,” I said, taking a deep breath. “It’ll be ok; let me take a look.”

My girls have always been sensitive, very shy and very connected to each other. When one got upset, the other would respond with even more tears, and the hysteria would escalate. For a while I suspected sensory issues because of the way they responded to situations. It was difficult to even go out at times because they were so afraid of strangers. It was exhausting and I spent so much time worrying about them. They were over-sensitive to strangers, injuries, sounds, and new environments. When they were toddlers, I was genuinely worried we wouldn’t get past this. Heaven help us if there was a real emergency. Hair tangles, chipped nail polish, or finding socks that don’t have the wrong kind of seams have been about all the drama this twin mama could take.

Fast forward to today. When one of them got a splinter, I was gearing up for major drama. You see, splinters are something that had been a HUGE ordeal in the Prescott home in the past. My little curly-headed darlings used to be terrified of splinters. Many tears have been shed over tiny specks so small they are practically invisible to the naked eye. So today, anticipating a big commotion, I was ready to scoop up all three and take off. But an amazing thing happened: Nothing!

She put on her shoes and went back to the slides. Her sister glanced over with disinterest and went about her play. Later we went home and took the splinter out with tweezers, applied some Neosporin and stuck on a Frozen bandaid. JUST LIKE THAT. And it was over, with no hysterical tears from either of the girls. I was gobsmacked.

And then I realized: only a rookie mom would be shocked to see her children grow and mature. Why am I surprised that these challenges that have seemed insurmountable are now becoming merely a thing of the past? Even though I’ve been told that the days are long but the years are short, I somehow fail to believe it. And even though we successfully moved on from potty-training snafus, breastfeeding obstacles, and those Braxton Hicks Contractions that I thought would never end, somehow I still live as if today’s problems will never go away.

My goal in this post is to encourage all of us today. Whether you are dealing with your children, or health issues, or difficult situations at your job, none of it is permanent. We can all look with hope to the future. All the craziness of my life right now… from my toddler’s best efforts to drive me crazy to the challenges of teaching fractions to my second graders…..all of that will later become something to reminisce about. So instead of collapsing into a fetal position on my kitchen floor, drinking my coffee through a twisty straw, I’ll remind myself that “this too shall pass.”

And that now I don’t have to be scared of splinters.

The Fillers

By: Lara Clark

Wednesday was my birthday. Cue the balloon. It was not a significant age, nor of much significance to report. I mean, all birthdays should really fall on the weekend because hump day does not exactly scream par-tay. But with the passing of another 365 days, I did spent the day thinking about what my 29^th year held and what my NEW 29^th** year would have in store. The truth is, the older I get, the less convinced I am that I am ever going to have it all figured out. I still don’t understand much about insurance premiums, IRA’s (Roth or not), or coupon clipping…those things that I thought grown-ups understood.

With a little age under my belt (and under my eyes) I do understand a little more about unconditional love, heartbreaking loss, pure joy and fleeting time. This birthday, I wondered if maybe those grown-up things are what I should worry about and continue to muddle through the other stuff.

I recently watched the movie Boyhood and – this is not a spoiler, so I will tell you – the mother in the film says something to the effect of, “Life is just a series of milestones.” I don’t know why, but this quote just made me sad. Milestones are really pretty few and far between. I mean, obviously they are important… they are “milestones.” But what about the fillers, the in-between, the birthdays that fall on Wednesdays? I think I might need to hold a little tighter to those. I should free up the space in my mind that currently holds all those insecurities about whether I am where this grown-up should be in life. I am exactly where I need to be today or at least until I learn more and change a little here and there. I am “in between” milestones. Nice texts from my husband or tickle wars with kids on my couch are okay fillers too. Cue the balloons for those.

** I know Chaunte is right and I should tell my age proudly, but for now I will just admit proudly that I am aging.

Angel Wings Over Lake Murray

By: Shannon Shull

I have the privilege of driving across the Lake Murray Dam almost every day during the week. I’ve written a blog about this before, describing the peace and joy the beautiful views crossing that dam bring me. But a recent journey crossing that incredible dam literally took my breath away with its glorious view.

The pictures will speak for themselves. They are untouched – no editing at all. It was another extremely long day of teaching, one that started at the usual 5 a.m. After an after-school faculty meeting, I was finally headed home. My eyes caught a glimpse of a gorgeous sunset to my right. Its beauty called out to me, but I had to keep my eyes on the road. I carried out my usual habit of rolling down the window, holding up my phone and just clicking away as I kept my eyes on the road. I had no idea of the immense beauty that was before me. In person, I did not get the opportunity to take in the heavenly view, but I was blessed with having captured it on my phone. I made it across the dam, got hung up in traffic, and while stopped, took the moment to look over my pictures…WOW. Words could not describe what I saw. My heart, mind and soul instantly saw, felt, and thought of angel wings watching over me.

See what you will. No matter what you see in the pictures, I know you will see something breathtaking. I will forever treasure these pictures because for me it represents a beauty that is indescribable on many levels, a reminder of the beauty of the world, a reminder of how blessed I am to see this beauty and appreciate it… a reminder of my angels watching over me.

How Old Am I? I Forgot.

By: Chaunte McClure

My husband often hears: Have you seen my [insert color here] shirt? Honey, have you seen my keys? Where are my glasses?

Based on those questions, you can easily conclude that I lose track of things at home and because my husband is here with me, I guess I kind of expect him to have answers. But there’s one thing both of us lose track of and though it’s not tangible, it’s something that we need from time to time for important documents or just because someone asks. What is it? Our age.

Ladies, how many of you lose track of your age?! That’s where I am in life and apparently I’m in good company.

Last Sunday I posed this question to my Facebook friends and it resulted in a 53-comment thread with several women and a few men admitting to forgetting their age.

For the first 21 years of my life, remembering my age was a no-brainer. Now I have to really think about it when someone asks, or I just give a number and most likely it’s not the right number.

I wonder why that happens? Why do we lose track of our age? I think my forgetfulness started after I turned 22. I could easily remember the milestone years like 25, 30, and 35 maybe, but the years in between seem to have gotten lost in my memory bank.

Today I revisited a Facebook post from December and I noticed that I told someone that I’m 37. Wrong! I’ve been thinking that I will be 38 in March when in fact, I will be 39. Thanks to my high school classmate for getting me back on track. I’m not sure how long it will last, but since 40 is another milestone, I’m sure to be good to go next year.

I have to admit, I am the blogger who told you to tell your age proudly. I guess I need to add an addendum to that – tell your age proudly and accurately.

If any of you have scientific reasons why we forget our age, please share.

Transition

By: Sherree Thompson

With the onset of New Year comes renewed goals and resolutions.

Our goals for our financial future, for our children’s education and of course, personal growth, cannot be met without change. For these goals to resonate, I must return to the world of employment. As you know from my last post, my son just had his fifth birthday. His birthday also marks the anniversary of me being home and out of the workforce.

I know far too well that I am not alone in the world of stay-at-home-moms. This community has been really good to me. The support I have found in them has been amazing. I also know many of them who have returned to work for a number of reasons. And that is how I am finding comfort. Knowing I am not alone when “returning to the real world” (as some have said to me) somehow brings solitude in such a nerve-wracking decision. What I didn’t know or expect is how I actually feel about being at this particular step in life. I am a freaked-out, scared, nervous wreck. I mean five years is a long time (or “A bunch” as Daisy says) to not have worked. I’m not saying that balancing the house, family, and the rest of the crazy isn’t work, because we all know it is. But to be accountable to someone that is giving me the vehicle to reach these life goals is scary. Having to be ON-TIME in itself is almost impossible for me right now. And then to function at someone else’s level of expectation and be accountable for maintaining (or surpassing) that level is major. I struggle with meeting my own expectations. Yes, I realize I said accountable twice. I felt the situation warranted the overuse of the word.

I always knew that I would go back to work. There were days I’d beg to go back. I just never expected that when the time actually came that I would feel this amount of heartbreak having to leave the children. There is worry that goes hand-in-hand with entrusting someone else to fill my shoes on a daily basis. I’ll take comfort in my mom-community. Knowing they are there giving me their trusted contacts, ways to navigate being a working mom, and just cheering me on. I take comfort in knowing I am not alone during this milestone transition and trust that God’s plan is in place.

Let’s Do This!

Traveling From the Sofa

By: Lydia Scott

I don’t know about you guys, but I often dream of picking up all my junk and all my people and moving to a quaint little cottage on the side of a hill in Scotland. Heck, I’ve never even been over the big pond, so who knows – I might hate Scotland. My responsibilities keep me from visiting any time soon, so like a lot of us, I settle for day dreams and Google tours. I will also gladly settle for Asheville, NC, which I have visited and 100% ADORE. Have you been? Gah! It’s heaven, and all the angels eat at the Admiral after having beignets at Mayfels. But I digress…

And y’all…guess what I stumbled upon recently? A new website that’s the equivalent of going to Asheville, NC and asking where the locals go so you can get the real flavor of the town. It’s called Findery. Findery is like Twitter, Flickr, Facebook, Blogger, Google Earth and a history buff had a baby. It’s really new, so there’s still tons of room to grow, but what a fantastic wealth of non-polished, down-to-earth information there is! I’ve already started perusing my favorite places and checking out their Daily Challenges.

Check it out and look me up while you’re there! www.findery.com

The Magic of Christmas Delivered Via a Snow Man

By: Mary Pat Baldauf

It was a cold, rainy Christmas Eve, and I was more than a little down. It was our fourth Christmas season without Dad, but it seemed to be the most difficult one yet. The season seemed to sneak up on me, and I was totally unprepared. The weather was horrible. And quite frankly, I just wasn’t feeling the spirit of Christmas. All of that changed as I pulled into the driveway that afternoon.

Something on the front porch caught my eye. It was a large snowman bird feeder, complete with a large red bow. I figured someone had left a gift for us, and I walked in through the front door to check it out.

On the snowman, there was a letter to “The Baldauf Sisters” that read: “Yesterday I lived with another. Before that, I lived with yet another. Starting today, my home is with you. But only for the next 364 days. Why you? It’s because the place I lived before thinks the world of you. Next Christmas Eve, it’ll be your turn to share the spirit of Christmas with someone whose light shines as brightly as yours.”

I broke down in happy tears, touched that someone had thought of us in such a delightful way. Our anonymous Santa blessed us with magic of Christmas that we were so lacking, and to whoever they are, I thank them profusely. I can’t wait until next Christmas Eve to return the favor.

Hope

By: Leah Prescott

It’s New Year’s day here in the Prescott home and I’m sitting on my couch contemplating my New Year’s resolutions. I have always loved the idea of turning over a new leaf in January, giving myself a fresh start and a fresh perspective. As usual, it’s mostly a matter of whittling down the slew of things I need to work on into a manageable list. This year, my first thought was to focus on home management. As I have mentioned, staying organized is not my best skill. Throw in a part-time job, hobbies that have grown into responsibilities and that teeny-tiny task of educating the future generation…..let’s just say the dust to floorboard ratio is at an all-time high. And don’t even talk to me about the laundry. Unless you want to come wash some.

Or I could put my energy towards a less tangible goal. I’d love to make creativity a more pronounced part of my daily life. Although I’ve always felt God gave me a gift for creative thinking, it’s something that has sadly fallen by the wayside since motherhood and her responsibilities hit. (At least to a certain extent….there is an amount of creativity in trying to walk the dog in the rain, put a toddler down for a nap, empty a load of groceries, mop up spilled eggnog, and baste a turkey in the span of negative 10 minutes.)

On the other hand, maybe I will attempt to drink more water, get rid of all the clothes I don’t wear, learn a foreign language, expand my cooking efforts, buy more locally/organically/ethically food, or apply eyeliner. (Notice I don’t mention exercise. That’s right, it’s too unlikely to even make the short list.) All of these are things I’d love to make a part of my life. But the truth is, if I write them ALL down on the list, it’s almost guaranteed I’ll give up long before February and probably before this post even hits cyberspace.

I have certainly succeeded in discouraging myself, and you guys are probably not even reading any more. So where does that leave us? Barely into 2015 and already bummed about the New Year? No, because I have to remind myself of what is true. Truth: I can never live up to my own expectations. Truth: I will always disappoint. Truth:  I will make mistakes and I will fail again and again. But despite all this, there is very good reason to hope.

My hope is not in my performance. It’s not in miraculously renovating my home with $80 and sheer willpower. It’s not in discovering the best meal plan or the most effective cleaning methods. It’s not in training for a marathon, or reading more books in 2015. My hope, and the reason that I can joyfully enter the New Year, is in Jesus Christ alone. Because the truth is, without faith in Him, I would feel like a failure each and every day of my life.

So if you have already failed yourself this year; if you’ve already let down your family, and dropped the ball, please take heart. Perfection doesn’t bring peace. Faith in the Perfect One does. So I choose to place my hope in Him this year. I hope you have a peaceful start to the New Year!

Nine Days In

By: Lara Winburn

New Year’s resolutions make me tired. My inbox is filled with gym fads and diet meal planning ideas. My Facebook feed shows people organizing their linen closets and “junk drawers.” (I mean, doesn’t that make it a “neat drawer?”) It is all so exhausting before my champagne-filled head has even cleared. Don’t get me wrong, I love the optimism of a new year, clean slate and all, but honestly by the end of it all I feel like my resolution should be to nap more.

I have numerous self-improvement projects in process as we speak but all of this talk of “a new year, a new you” can be a little daunting for a pleasant mess like myself. I struggle all year to be a more organized, fun, sweet wife, mom, friend and daughter. In January, I find out that people are cleaning things I did not know were dirty and eating “clean” foods I have never heard of. I want to be neater, thinner, fitter, more at peace, really I do. But sometimes that first day of the year is just a reminder of how far I have to go.

So as I sign up for Weight Watchers AGAIN, I will not make that a New Year’s resolution but just another step in the process to be a better me. I will add to my calendar more volunteer time at my church and in my community but not as a resolution, just a part of my life. Seems to me resolutions often need a little more fun and probably would be easier to keep too, huh? Maybe my resolution this year will be to read more books or go on more dates with that cute husband of mine. One year my resolution was to go to the beach more. I kept that one and never once regretted it. We are 9 days in to 2015 and that means it is not too late to edit your resolution. As you are spending more time at the gym (I hope to see you there) or alphabetizing your canned goods (I would have to have a brain transplant), be sure to add some fun to your resolution list and just try to adopt that self-improvement stuff to your February, June and September life. I will resolve to add more play time, more kindness to myself and others, and maybe more naps.