I posted yesterday about this weird place I've been in lately where people drive me absolutely batshit crazy for simply being the only thing they know how: Middle class Americans with middle class American problems. I'm working on getting outta that funk because I think it alienates good people who mean well but sometimes are too insulated in their suburban homes to really know pain and suffering.
So, today I heard the best story ever. Ever. About a bride whose wedding was cancelled and so she donated the reception to homeless children in Atlanta. I get chills typing that. This woman who had planned one of the most important days of her life only to have it called off, gave her day away to homeless kids. Now I don't know any of the gossipy details about who called it off and why. I don't know if she was pissed or heartbroken but I know that this woman, in her own suffering, blessed other people in a way that they never could have dreamed. I want to hug her. For a really really long time. I want to be the creeper who hugs just a leeeettle too long just like Fifi does to her friends. I want to dance in the streets whooping and hollering like a lunatic because this story makes my heart sing.
I found you the story here. And I also found the organization she donated to. It's called Hosea Feed the Hungry, just in case anyone who runs across this is from Atlanta.
Did you know 70% of Atlanta's homeless population are children? I need to say that again so it sinks in. Seventy percent of Atlanta's homeless population are kids. There goes your tired, old assumption that all homeless people are lazy bums who use their panhandled proceeds on cigarettes and booze. Wait, that was snarky and I'm supposed to be working on that. So anyway, the people who benefited from this fancy reception were children and their mamas.
The CEO of Hosea Feed the Hungry, Elisabeth Omilami, said the reception was such a wonderful learning experience for the children because they had never eaten a four course meal before and they now know about all of the etiquette involved. She said something else that resonated in my heart; she said "The children have learned that their beginning does not determine their destiny." Wow. I want to give this woman a creepy, too long hug. This story is turning me into the person no one wants to be caught in an embrace with. It makes me want to go back to Facebook and SHOUT IN CAPITAL LETTERS THAT MY HEART IS HAPPYHAPPYHAPPY.
I hope that my joy and the joy that was bestowed upon these babies spills over into your life too. Maybe if you're in ATL, you'll consider giving time, money or a cancelled event to Hosea Feed the Hungry. I'll leave you with another amazing quote from my new best friend, Elisabeth Omilami, even though she doesn't know it: “Whenever our sense of self importance causes us to perceive ourselves as too big to do the little things, to care for people, and to right the wrongs done to those who are voiceless, it is a sign that we have lost our souls to something that will eventually destroy the humanity in us. It is a sign that we have lost the real meaning of life, of love, and the purpose for being.”
Cue the ugly cry.
Friday, September 20, 2013
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Eff you Facebook
Yesterday I quit Facebook.
I may have shot Mark Zuckerburg the bird on my way out for ruining my perfect ideas about who people really are on the inside. For the past month or so I've read post after post of ugliness and judgement. Perhaps I'm hyper-aware of it because of our work with Bright Blessings. Maybe it's because we're making small changes as a family to consume less of the crap big corporations and their marketing teams tell us we need. Or maybe it's because I have simply had enough of all the whining and complaining about our first world, middle class problems. Whatever the reason, Facebook has not been uplifting or satisfying for me in quite some time. I quit for about an hour a month ago but Sassy Britches made me come back. This time I'm taking at least a month long hiatus. I'm hoping that the break will be good for my heart and soul and either I'll come back with a little more compassion for all people, even the ones who stand on my very last nerve complaining about their bottled water not being cold, or I'll clear out my "friends" list and shoot everyone the bird. Either way, I am enjoying the time away while simultaneously missing the updates and pictures from the people I actually like and whose posts enrich my life. For now I'm using Pinterest as a substitute to suck all of my time away. Y'all can follow me over there and take a look at my Crafts and Schmidt board where I aspire to be far more industrious than I actually am.
I may have shot Mark Zuckerburg the bird on my way out for ruining my perfect ideas about who people really are on the inside. For the past month or so I've read post after post of ugliness and judgement. Perhaps I'm hyper-aware of it because of our work with Bright Blessings. Maybe it's because we're making small changes as a family to consume less of the crap big corporations and their marketing teams tell us we need. Or maybe it's because I have simply had enough of all the whining and complaining about our first world, middle class problems. Whatever the reason, Facebook has not been uplifting or satisfying for me in quite some time. I quit for about an hour a month ago but Sassy Britches made me come back. This time I'm taking at least a month long hiatus. I'm hoping that the break will be good for my heart and soul and either I'll come back with a little more compassion for all people, even the ones who stand on my very last nerve complaining about their bottled water not being cold, or I'll clear out my "friends" list and shoot everyone the bird. Either way, I am enjoying the time away while simultaneously missing the updates and pictures from the people I actually like and whose posts enrich my life. For now I'm using Pinterest as a substitute to suck all of my time away. Y'all can follow me over there and take a look at my Crafts and Schmidt board where I aspire to be far more industrious than I actually am.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Midnight
Its 11:30 pm and Fifi has conned me into a bowl of raisins, a cup of milk and some late night Sesame Street. Husband gave up and went to bed. She smells like warm sugar cookies and oranges which is the only reason I'm entertaining these demands. Well, her glorious scent and the fact that I've been promised by various people whom I consider experts on this subject, that one day--one day far too soon they say, I will long for these moments and so I should enjoy the torturous sleep deprivation and all of the moments that make me think "I did not sign up for this shit."
Do y'all sometimes break the rules and enjoy midnight snacks/tv with your little dictators? I'd love to hear about it!
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Doing the work of kindness
A few months ago I was half listening to the news when they suddenly switched from covering the world's doom and gloom to a feel good story about an organization called Birthday Wishes. By the time the story was over, tears were streaming down my face, as they often do. I'm a crier. Don't judge. I frantically started searching for something like that in my area and I found Bright Blessings USA. Birthday Wishes and Bright Blessings both do the same thing; they give birthday parties to homeless children. I would not be exaggerating if I told you the Heavens opened wide and angels sang when I discovered BB. I immediately texted my BFF, (do people still use that term?) Sassy Britches and said "We would be awesome at this!!!!" To her credit, she immediately texted back "Let's do it!!!"
Now, we know some incredibly amazing women who were the first to hear about our adventure and they asked excitedly "How can we help?" And help they did. They've donated boxes of party supplies and cake mix and they've reminded us over and over that there is nothing a bunch of mothers can't do when we work together.
They often tell us that we're wonderful and kind and selfless and they admire us so much. They say we're doing "God's work." I don't really know about that. While I'm sure Jesus is happy about what we're doing and I hope that one day I'll be handsomely rewarded with a ginormous red velvet cupcake with piles of cream cheese icing on those streets of gold, I think we're just doing something we enjoy. We're doing the work of kindness. The work of humanity. Sassy Britches does the work of God along with Sister Britches and Mama Britches when they love me and accept me despite my questions, my doubts and my baggage. That is God's work. Our work is merely showing up once a month to eat cake.
The shelter we volunteer at is one of the happiest places on Earth. (Sorry, Disney. Y'all ain't got nothin' on this place.) At least it is on the second Wednesday of every month. It's inside those four walls that everyone is equal. We all repeat ourselves a million times before our kids finally listen. We're all exhausted at the end of the day. We all love our children and want the best for them. Inside those four walls, we all have the same hopes, fears and dreams. We all hope we're doing the right things and we won't screw up these amazing little people we've been given. We're all scared their misbehavior and less desirable traits are indications of sociopathic tendencies. And we all dream that our children will one day have better lives than we had. Inside those four walls, we are all just mothers. Just mothers. Without the labels society gives us: Pinterest Mommy, Stepford Mommy, Crazy Can't Get Her Shit Together Mommy, Homeless Mommy.
It is inside those four walls that the children thank God for their many blessings before each meal. That's right, their many blessings. It seems odd in a society where we measure wealth in material possessions and money that these children have anything to be thankful for. But the truth is, they're perhaps richer than anyone I know because they have a village. They have each other.
In a society where the latest iPhone and the biggest house are things to be desired and sought after, we deem these women and their children unworthy of our riches or our kindness unless it's Christmas or someone is watching and we want to appear kind. After all, these women must just be lazy. They must be addicts. Somehow it's their fault they don't have an iPhone, or a car or a big house. And why should we help them? People need to learn to help themselves, right? Wrong. If your family has one breadwinner (looking at all you SAHMs), if you don't have at least 6 months of living expenses saved or if you don't have any close family, you are at risk of homelessness. There's a sobering reality.
When did we become so numb to the struggles of others? When did we start ignoring our neighbors? When did we become so immersed in our own lives, that we can't even spare two hours of our time? How have we forgotten to be thankful for our blessings?
Just the other day I noticed the Christmas decor is already making an appearance in retail stores. Its the time of year when people will start to consider being kind to others in between buying more crap they don't need to deck their halls. But what about the rest of the year? The need for kindness in this world doesn't cease on December 26 and that is why I am challenge you to a random act of kindness. To pass on your many blessings. And I'm not talking about buying the lunch of the equally privileged person in line behind you at Chick-fil-a or buying an overpriced latte at Starbucks. I'm talking about giving your time to help someone out. Maybe its mowing your elderly neighbor's lawn or helping the frazzled mama you see in the grocery store get her groceries and kids to the car. And if you want to give your money away, give it to a homeless person and choose to believe them when they say they're using the money for food rather than using that worn out excuse that they'll just use it for drugs or alcohol. Let's face it. If you were homeless and lost all your dignity, were forced to rely on the kindness of others and that kindness was rare, you'd need a drink too.
Now get out there and do the work of kindness! I want to hear all about what you're doing in your communities. I want you to shamelessly toot your own horn about what you did, no matter how small and I want you to encourage others to consider giving time and love instead of fast food meals and fancy coffee.
Now, we know some incredibly amazing women who were the first to hear about our adventure and they asked excitedly "How can we help?" And help they did. They've donated boxes of party supplies and cake mix and they've reminded us over and over that there is nothing a bunch of mothers can't do when we work together.
They often tell us that we're wonderful and kind and selfless and they admire us so much. They say we're doing "God's work." I don't really know about that. While I'm sure Jesus is happy about what we're doing and I hope that one day I'll be handsomely rewarded with a ginormous red velvet cupcake with piles of cream cheese icing on those streets of gold, I think we're just doing something we enjoy. We're doing the work of kindness. The work of humanity. Sassy Britches does the work of God along with Sister Britches and Mama Britches when they love me and accept me despite my questions, my doubts and my baggage. That is God's work. Our work is merely showing up once a month to eat cake.
The shelter we volunteer at is one of the happiest places on Earth. (Sorry, Disney. Y'all ain't got nothin' on this place.) At least it is on the second Wednesday of every month. It's inside those four walls that everyone is equal. We all repeat ourselves a million times before our kids finally listen. We're all exhausted at the end of the day. We all love our children and want the best for them. Inside those four walls, we all have the same hopes, fears and dreams. We all hope we're doing the right things and we won't screw up these amazing little people we've been given. We're all scared their misbehavior and less desirable traits are indications of sociopathic tendencies. And we all dream that our children will one day have better lives than we had. Inside those four walls, we are all just mothers. Just mothers. Without the labels society gives us: Pinterest Mommy, Stepford Mommy, Crazy Can't Get Her Shit Together Mommy, Homeless Mommy.
It is inside those four walls that the children thank God for their many blessings before each meal. That's right, their many blessings. It seems odd in a society where we measure wealth in material possessions and money that these children have anything to be thankful for. But the truth is, they're perhaps richer than anyone I know because they have a village. They have each other.
In a society where the latest iPhone and the biggest house are things to be desired and sought after, we deem these women and their children unworthy of our riches or our kindness unless it's Christmas or someone is watching and we want to appear kind. After all, these women must just be lazy. They must be addicts. Somehow it's their fault they don't have an iPhone, or a car or a big house. And why should we help them? People need to learn to help themselves, right? Wrong. If your family has one breadwinner (looking at all you SAHMs), if you don't have at least 6 months of living expenses saved or if you don't have any close family, you are at risk of homelessness. There's a sobering reality.
When did we become so numb to the struggles of others? When did we start ignoring our neighbors? When did we become so immersed in our own lives, that we can't even spare two hours of our time? How have we forgotten to be thankful for our blessings?
Just the other day I noticed the Christmas decor is already making an appearance in retail stores. Its the time of year when people will start to consider being kind to others in between buying more crap they don't need to deck their halls. But what about the rest of the year? The need for kindness in this world doesn't cease on December 26 and that is why I am challenge you to a random act of kindness. To pass on your many blessings. And I'm not talking about buying the lunch of the equally privileged person in line behind you at Chick-fil-a or buying an overpriced latte at Starbucks. I'm talking about giving your time to help someone out. Maybe its mowing your elderly neighbor's lawn or helping the frazzled mama you see in the grocery store get her groceries and kids to the car. And if you want to give your money away, give it to a homeless person and choose to believe them when they say they're using the money for food rather than using that worn out excuse that they'll just use it for drugs or alcohol. Let's face it. If you were homeless and lost all your dignity, were forced to rely on the kindness of others and that kindness was rare, you'd need a drink too.
Now get out there and do the work of kindness! I want to hear all about what you're doing in your communities. I want you to shamelessly toot your own horn about what you did, no matter how small and I want you to encourage others to consider giving time and love instead of fast food meals and fancy coffee.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Ho'made butter
Part of being Southern is knowing how to make things from scratch so today I'm gonna talk about how to make butter because its one of Fifi's favorite things to do and its so easy you could do it during halftime of the LSU game. As a side note: in this house there are no other college football teams except the ones that LSU beats and if you're a fan of any other team, my condolences to you and also, you are dead to me.
Now let's get down to business.
No, wait. I have another side note. We don't have fancy gadgets here and I can't figure out how to upload the mediocre pictures I took of the butter making process but I like to think I have a way with words so hopefully you can imagine the steps as I explain them. Besides, I never said I was a photographer; I only told you I'm funny and can cook.
You have to start with good, heavy cream. I forbid the use of that ultra-pasteurized grocery store crap, so go out and find a local farmer and give him your money. Use as much cream as you want. I told you we don't measure around here but just know you'll end up with about half that when your butter is made.
Dump the cream into the KitchenAid mixer and turn it on. Voila! That's all you do.
I'm told by people who know these things that you could use a blender if you don't have a KitchenAid or you could also shake up the cream in a jar with a lid for 30 minutes. That last one sounds like a good punishment for your husband when he forgets to take out the trash. I suppose you could also consider it an arm workout but I'm allergic to anything that makes me sweat.
The cream will get real thick first like whipped cream, then it will start to look kinda flat and lumpy. You've got your butter when it all hangs together in one gloriously beautiful yellow wad and the mixer is slingin' what looks like skim milk all over your kitchen.
Now you have to "wash" your butter unless you want it to spoil fast and smell like a big ass pile of gym socks. To wash, take the wad of butter and put it in a bowl filled with ice water. Swish it around some. Squish the butter w your fingers like you're kneading bread. Dump the water. Repeat 2 or 3 more times until your water doesn't get cloudy anymore.
Your ho'made butter keeps in the fridge for a week or in the freezer for 6 months.
Now you can survive the apocalypse because you can just eat butter. You're welcome.
Now let's get down to business.
No, wait. I have another side note. We don't have fancy gadgets here and I can't figure out how to upload the mediocre pictures I took of the butter making process but I like to think I have a way with words so hopefully you can imagine the steps as I explain them. Besides, I never said I was a photographer; I only told you I'm funny and can cook.
You have to start with good, heavy cream. I forbid the use of that ultra-pasteurized grocery store crap, so go out and find a local farmer and give him your money. Use as much cream as you want. I told you we don't measure around here but just know you'll end up with about half that when your butter is made.
Dump the cream into the KitchenAid mixer and turn it on. Voila! That's all you do.
I'm told by people who know these things that you could use a blender if you don't have a KitchenAid or you could also shake up the cream in a jar with a lid for 30 minutes. That last one sounds like a good punishment for your husband when he forgets to take out the trash. I suppose you could also consider it an arm workout but I'm allergic to anything that makes me sweat.
The cream will get real thick first like whipped cream, then it will start to look kinda flat and lumpy. You've got your butter when it all hangs together in one gloriously beautiful yellow wad and the mixer is slingin' what looks like skim milk all over your kitchen.
Now you have to "wash" your butter unless you want it to spoil fast and smell like a big ass pile of gym socks. To wash, take the wad of butter and put it in a bowl filled with ice water. Swish it around some. Squish the butter w your fingers like you're kneading bread. Dump the water. Repeat 2 or 3 more times until your water doesn't get cloudy anymore.
Your ho'made butter keeps in the fridge for a week or in the freezer for 6 months.
Now you can survive the apocalypse because you can just eat butter. You're welcome.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Gratitude
I need to put a little tidbit out in the blogosphere even though my current audience already knows: I stole the term Crazycakes from my fab friend Emily over at Sugar and Spice and everything [mostly] nice. I promised to grovel at her feet so here it is. I am doing the lowest curtsy that my post-partum, arthritic hips and lack of flexibility will allow. I bow to her and kiss her perfectly polished toes and encourage anyone who doesn't already, to go visit her blog and learn all about thrifting and looking amazing on a budget.
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