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The Day I Forgot To Sift the Popcorn Out of the Waffle Mix

September 4, 2013 by Laura 22 Comments

This post may contain affiliate links. For more information, please see our disclosure policy.

blueberry_waffle

Often I try to do too many things at once. Multitasking? Sometimes it just doesn’t pay off.

Take for instance the night last week our 13 year old, Justus, invited some friends over for a movie night/sleepover. You must have popcorn for a such an event, which my boys were in charge of popping since I was in the middle of making and canning tomato sauce. Somewhere in there, I had also started mixing up the waffles for our breakfast the following day. Like I always say, “why measure flour tomorrow when you can put it in a bowl tonight while you’re making tomato sauce?”

So the flour/baking powder/salt mixture sat on the counter by the popcorn maker, which was being manned by our eleven year old who had left the room. I was cranking my Victorio on the other side of the kitchen so as to get the tomato sauce in jars and in the water bath. Since I’m so careful and good at multitasking, I was also squirting tomato juice into my face and onto my flip flops. Somewhere in there, popcorn kernels began flying around the kitchen, which went unnoticed by the eleven year old who was no longer in the room, and which was noticed too late by the woman cranking out tomato sauce.

Popcorn on the floor and flying outside of the bowl? Eh, it’s happened before. After all, an air popper does like to send popcorn flying at times whether you’re watching it or not. The chief popcorn maker made his way back into the room because pre-teen intuition in the form of motherly hollering gave him a hint that something was amiss. He picked up the popcorn that had tried to escape, and started another batch in another bowl. After all, you can never have too much popcorn during a movie night. I insisted that he stay by the machine this time so as to lasso in more popcorn escapees.

Five quarts of tomato sauce and four batches of popcorn later, we cleaned the kitchen and gathered around to watch a movie.

The next morning, I set about making big stacks of waffles for all of my boys and their friends. Ironically, it was our eleven year old who was the first to find a popcorn kernel in a bite of waffle. “Mom, you accidentally got a piece of popcorn in the waffles.” (Wait – who accidentally got popcorn in the waffles, Mr. Turn On the Popcorn Machine and Walk Out of the Room?)

He and I hoped it was only that one kernel, and we were relieved that it was he who found it and not one of our guests. Our relief lasted for about three minutes, at which time one of our guests found a popcorn kernel in his waffle too. Then Justus almost broke his tooth on one. And then our other guest found one. It was one of my finer hospitality moments.

Lesson learned: Never make tomato sauce, waffles, and popcorn all at the same time. But if you do, be sure to sift your waffle mix.

This tip is, without a doubt, just as helpful as the information I shared about Freezing Peaches Whole, is it not? I make it a goal to try to continually amaze you.

Has your multitasking ever caused more trouble than efficiency?

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Thanks For Letting Me, Mom

August 31, 2013 by Laura 23 Comments

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Matt had been gone all day with the York College soccer team at an out-of-state game. The boys and I stayed home to get school work done, can tomatoes, and forget to put our shoes where they go. (It happens so regularly that I figure I might as well put it on our to-do list. “Leave shoes in the middle of the living room floor…check.”)

It was late-afternoon, right around Mom’s starting to get really tired and not able to make rational decisions anymore o’clock. The school work was all finished, the tomatoes were in jars and their lids had said “ping.” I was finishing some work at the computer and about to get up to start dinner. That’s when my eight year old asked the question.

“Mom? Can I make a ‘Welcome Home’ sign for Dad and put it on the front door and then can I turn the living room into a Lego Adventure Land by bringing all of my Lego platforms with the Lego guys and the clone bases down and set them up on the big white table in the middle of the floor {by the shoes we didn’t put away} so that when Dad comes home tonight he’ll be so excited and he’ll get to see all of the Lego Adventure stuff we set up and he’ll love it so much!”

With joy, I smiled and grabbed him up in huge bear hug and said that I could think of nothing better so please start bringing down every Lego we own and let’s also get out glitter.

But what I actually did in real life was give him a look which clearly stated, “Did you forget that it is now half past Mom can’t stand the idea of seeing one more mess?” And then out loud I was able to mutter, “Probably not but let me think about it.” Since that was so very nearly a “yes” he ran upstairs to start making Lego zip lines.

After dinner, he brought up his idea again, which had now developed into a bigger attraction since his original idea about transforming our living room wasn’t quite big enough and now the kitchen table and countertops needed to be included as well. Dinner had helped my mental state significantly, but no amount of protein can make me excited about turning 1000 square feet of house into a Lego Adventure two hours before bedtime.

Together we came up with a compromise. He could make the signs for the door. I would help. And he could use the kitchen table if he helped clear it off first and if he promised that I wouldn’t be finding Lego bricks in the butter two weeks from now.

I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him so excited. Some of his brothers even joined in. They set up the entire table with a Lego Adventure any dad would be pleased to see after being away from home, on the road, and in the hot sun for 16 hours.

Once the set-up was complete and we were headed to bed, Malachi grabbed me and squeezed the life out of my mid-section saying, “Thank you so much for letting me. That was so much fun. Dad is going to love it.”

I am happy to share that not only did saying yes to Malachi’s request bring him much joy, it didn’t even kill me a little bit. Perhaps I should get past my I love how creative you are but can’t we just this once sit down and read books quietly feelings more often.

The next morning, God and I were able to share our quiet time with no less than 47 Lego guys, some of whom were balancing on one leg even better than my yoga instructor.

legos_with_breakfast

Matt had loved his welcome home – from the sign on the door to the Lego Adventure that made us all hold our breakfast plates in our laps as we ate together that morning.

welcome_dad_sign

Would you look at that. We forgot the glitter.

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My Coffee Drinking Confessions

August 13, 2013 by Laura 53 Comments

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iced_coffeeI don’t drink coffee. I don’t like coffee. Coffee smells great but tastes terrible. Coffee is super bitter, how could anyone like it? Yuck, coffee, no thank you. All things I’ve said about coffee for years and years.

I then experimented with a Homemade Chocolate Caramel Creamer because so many of you asked for a healthier creamer option. To my surprise, I kind of liked it. But only kind of.

Months went by. I maintained my “I’m not a coffee drinker” status. During the winter I was introduced to Crio Bru, which is brewed ground cocoa beans, and it is delicious. I began enjoying a cup during my God time each morning. Perfectly delightful.

Then, I started holding Meet and Greets. Many of them were in coffee shops. I began to try iced coffee, which were offered in some very tempting flavors. Hmmm, not bad. Not bad at all…

I believe the kicker was my Oklahoma City Meet and Greet. We met at Vintage Coffee, a lovely shop owned by my cousin and her husband. My cousin, Carie, talked me through options she thought I might like, which resulted in her making me a cold coffee with chocolate and toffee or some such wonderful combination. It was so delicious, I guzzled it down, wished for more, and have been craving another one ever since.

I blame my new interest in coffee on Carie. And on those who came to Meet and Greets. You all obviously forced the stuff down my throat, creating a coffee interest in me that I can no longer deny. I have yet to recreate the delicious brew Carie made for me, and that’s probably a good thing. I would be making them way too often.

So here’s my new coffee status:  Don’t like it hot. Can’t drink it black. Tastes great cold with an equal part of milk and a little bit of homemade chocolate sauce. Craving a Chocolate Toffee Cold Coffee drink from Vintage Coffee.

And now you know.

How about you? What’s your current coffee status? 

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The Post-Camp Laundry Load Total Is…

July 31, 2013 by Laura 4 Comments

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Thanks everyone for making my party-game-post-camp-laundry-washing so much fun. I love that so many of you chimed in with your guess as to how many loads of laundry it would take for me to get all of this clean. Let’s see that before picture again, shall we?

laundry

I’m happy to say that I have now completed the task, and swept the camp dirt off the bathroom floor.

laundry_completed
The total loads of camp laundry for six people, one week, bedding and towels included was:

19

Phew! Could have been worse. The whole family pitched in, especially to fold and put away all of the clean laundry.

Thirteen ladies that guessed it would take 19 loads to complete the task, therefore I conducted a random drawing with their names to see who would win the $25 gift certificate from our shop. And the winner is:

Katie:   kdkayne@

Katie, email me and I’ll create a gift certificate code for you for $25 worth of downloads from our shop!

And now, to get myself out of the habit of counting each time I start a new load…

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How Many Loads of Laundry?

July 28, 2013 by Laura 293 Comments

This post may contain affiliate links. For more information, please see our disclosure policy.

celebrating_40

Oh look, it’s a spur of the moment birthday party game!
Who says laundry can’t be fun?

When we got home from camp on Saturday, I instructed everyone to dump all of their laundry – including sleeping bags, sheets, pillow cases, clothes, and towels – into the upstairs bathroom so that we could get started on the huge job of getting everything clean again. We have a fairly large bathroom, with washer and dryer included. The pile of dirty laundry took up almost our entire floor and was probably three feet tall. Not at all overwhelming. 

laundry

Let me share how thankful I am for the convenience of a washer and dryer. Even though my washing machine is old and has to be held together by a bungee cord so that it doesn’t shimmy, shake, and explode all over the bathroom, it works and is so much easier than me breaking my back over a wash board. Bless you, Ma Ingalls. And thank you, Maytag.

I’ve been washing loads since Saturday at about 3:30 pm. I’m not even half-way done. So my question to you is this:  How many loads of laundry do you think it will take to get through this pile? 

This being my birthday week, the correct answer better not be 40. But the tally marks are adding up, so we can’t be sure! Make a guess, and leave a comment on this post sharing how many loads you think it will take for us to get through our  laundry pile.

As soon as I can see my bathroom floor again, I’ll be back to reveal the final answer. The person who guesses correctly will win a $25 gift certificate to be used on anything downloadable in the Heavenly Homemakers Shop. If more than one person guesses the correct answer, I’ll throw each of their names into a (clean) hat and draw randomly.

Let the party game begin…

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Twas the Day Before Camp

July 23, 2013 by Laura 8 Comments

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Twas the day before camp and all through the house,
Every creature was stirring trying to get packed.

That’s where the creativity ends on that catchy little Christmas in July song parody. I didn’t even bother to try and rhyme. Wait. Not true. I did give it half a second worth of thought. Mouse, louse, douse, packed. And that’s where the song ends.

I don’t believe I mentioned that two days before camp, Justus, our 13 year old, had an out-of-town soccer tournament. Therefore, we had to be completely ready for a soccer tournament with all food and cold beverages and food (never enough food), plus five people worth of a clothing for a week, towels, hoodies just in case, sleeping bags, sheets, Bibles, shoes, flashlights, class teaching materials (for Matt and me), and twenty to ninety other random items – by the Friday before leaving for camp on Sunday. No biggie.

The hoodies? They were argued over. “Mom, why did you put ‘hoodie and jeans’ on our packing list? We will totally not need them.” To which I answered that you never know when the temperature might dip down at the end of July at church camp and you’d sure hate to be stuck freezing in shorts and tanks so pack them because I am right.

Oh, they will thank me once we’re there and they are chilly some evening. Which won’t ever happen because the lows are supposed to be hot. But still, just in case.

So all that to say that I was way too busy to cook on Friday but everyone still wanted to eat so somehow I had to schedule that into my day. I did not, however, remember to put “clean the kitchen” on my to-do list. So I would quickly cook some form of a meal, then leave the room to carry on with my other jobs. Therefore, when I walked into the kitchen for a glass of water Friday afternoon, I was greeted with this:

messy_kitchen_2

While this picture surely throws us all into overstimulation because there is so much mess to look over at one time, your eyes undoubtedly landed directly on the bag of Bugles right there front and center. What can I say? Elias (11) dearly wanted to take a snack to camp that was all his own and not in the homemade granola or fresh fruit category, so I allowed him to spend $1 of his own money on whatever he picked out at the dollar store that wouldn’t give him an automatic cavity. He decided on a bag of Bugles.

As you can see, after taking this picture I promptly walked back out of the kitchen and began writing a blog post about my mess instead of taking the time to clean it. Hey, I’d been working hard and needed to sit for a while, plus writing sounded like more fun than scraping smoothie gunk off the countertops.

The suitcases were placed by the front door with care,
In hopes that we hadn’t forgotten anything.

Seriously, I should just get back in there and clean the kitchen. And also, I should never, ever compose Christmas songs.

Update:  I wrote this last Friday afternoon while avoiding my kitchen. You’ll be happy to know that the kitchen was sparkling when we left for camp. Or at least it was a level better than disaster. And those hoodies? I’ve already worn mine twice. So there.

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The Boy With the Glasses

March 12, 2013 by Laura 41 Comments

This post may contain affiliate links. For more information, please see our disclosure policy.

We were blessed several weeks ago to spend a few days with some of our good friends that we hadn’t seen for two years. They are a family with two sons (ages 7 and 11) and a daughter (age 5). As the time for our visit approached, their little girl kept asking her mom questions about our family – specifically about our boys.

“How many boys does that lady have?” “How old are the boys?” “Doesn’t she have any little girls for me to play with?” “Do you think that lady is sad because she only has boys and doesn’t have any little girls like me?”

And my personal favorite, which was likely said with a sigh:  “Does that lady have to bring all four of her boys to our house??”

It would seem that our upcoming visit wasn’t very appealing to a five year old girl. Understandably so. What would four big boys have to offer a five year old little girl? There would certainly be no one to play dolls, or house, or kitchen…

Thankfully, she welcomed us in anyway, playing “little hostess” to our overwhelmingly male family. 

It wasn’t long before her mom noticed that her little girl was rather enjoying herself. She was all smiles, putting herself right in the mix of all of the boys without hesitation. And then, the whispers began:  “Mom, these boys are all sooooo nice.” “Mom, I like all of these boys – but especially the boy with the glasses.” “Mom, what is the name of the boy with the glasses?” (Justus)  “Oh yeah, Justus. I like him. He’s really nice.”

justus

And so it went during our visit. “The Boy With the Glasses”  aka Justus, didn’t quite know what to think about the situation. What is a 13 year old boy to do with a 5 year old little girl who has an apparent crush on him? He just continued to be sweet…and to mind his own business as much as possible. ;)

At meal time we began to hear:  “I’m going to sit by The Boy With the Glasses.” While watching a movie:  “I’m taking popcorn to The Boy With the Glasses.” On the way to church:  “Can I ride in the van with The Boy With the Glasses?”

By the time we loaded up and headed back to Nebraska, we had made plans for their family to come visit us this summer. Holding onto the hope that she would see The Boy With the Glasses in a few short months, the little girl waved cheerfully as we pulled away. 

Fastforward several months. 

As our family sat at a basketball game recently, I pointed out a banner on a far away wall. My boys all looked over, read it, and chuckled. That is, all except for Elias. His reply was, “Hmm, are there words on it? I can’t read it.” Many questions followed, and it was determined that we needed to make an eye doctor appointment for him.

It was after this appointment that I called my friend to let her know (or rather to warn her) that when they came for a visit this summer, there would be not one, but two Boys with Glasses.

elias

elias_glasses

Look out Coppinger household (and five year old girls). There’s a new kid in town. 

We’ve been having fun this week talking about when I got my first pair of glasses (I was right around Elias’ age!). Do you have glasses/contacts? How old were you when you realized you needed them?

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The Bird in the Attic

January 2, 2013 by Laura 10 Comments

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As I am putting away Christmas decorations this week, I am reminded of the “bird in the attic” incident that happened three years ago around this time that we continue to laugh about. I wrote about this back in 2010, but thought you might enjoy seeing it again…

christmas_storage

What is up with me encountering critters in my house? First the snake and now this.

I will say, right from the start, that having a snake in my house was a MUCH worse experience than this one. This one was mostly just funny and made my children laugh at me.

Early last week the boys and I took down our Christmas tree and decorations and boxed them up to store until next year. We keep all of our Christmas decor up in our attic, along with a various assortment of dust and dirt.

The boys hauled all of the boxes upstairs and put them at the base of the attic stairs. I was then planning to take the boxes up the steep steps into the attic.

So picture this:  Four boys (fairly bored, disinterested, and relieved to be finished with packing up decorations) gathered around 6-8 boxes all of various sizes and shapes at the base of a set of stairs leading up to an attic. One mom (also very relieved to be finished with packing up decorations and ready to move on with life) picking up one of the boxes to begin the trek up the stairs to deposit the goods. Sounds innocent enough wouldn’t you think? Kinda makes you want to yawn, doesn’t it?

I opened the attic door and carried Box Number 1 up exactly five steps before abruptly being greeted by loud flapping wings and a beak flying toward my face.

I yelled something intelligent like, “Aaauughhh!”, and simultaneously jumped down all five steps in one leap, landing smack in the middle of my four boys and all of the remaining boxes.

I also slammed the door to the attic while I was leaping…all while still holding Box Number 1.

I have to say, the whole act was quite impressive and heroic.

The boys looked quite stunned at first, because well…this was not part of our yearly Christmas storage tradition.

It was then quite obvious that while they really wanted to make sure I was unharmed…they also really wanted to laugh. I’m also pretty sure they wanted to take a turn at the “go up five steps then leap back down while slamming a door” trick. Both of those activities are against the rules of the house…and to do them both at once? Cool.

I believe my oldest was the first to find his voice,  “What was THAT about?” he tried to ask without smirking.

“THAT,” I told my boys, “Was a bird flying at my face. Don’t worry, I wasn’t really scared. I just didn’t want the bird to fly down and get into the house, because do you know how hard it would be to get a bird out of our house? That’s why I jumped down so quickly and slammed the door.”

We had a nice laugh together, then left the boxes at the foot of the stairs for my husband to deal with later.

Best part of the story:  My father-in-law was visiting at the time. I went downstairs and, still a little out of breath from the whole experience said, “Hey, did you hear me yell and jump and wonder what was going on up there?! There was a bird in the attic that flew at my face!”

My father-in-law just looked at me, quite interested and impressed with the situation.

Then he asked just as seriously as can be,  “What kind of bird was it?”

Shucks, I had forgotten to look. ;)

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To Prove How Bad I am at Geography

December 27, 2012 by Laura 18 Comments

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us_map

Geography. It’s probably my weakest subject. Next to Spelling. And Foreign Languages.

But hey, at least I can make homemade cheese.

Oh, have you never heard me say that before? That’s the fall back phrase I always use when I feel inadequate about something. The scenario goes something like this:

We are in a group of people who are talking about subjects that go way over my head – like baseball statistics, politics, auto parts, building structures, capital gains, and the like. I try to smile and nod occasionally to at least look as though I am following along in the conversation. All the while, I am thinking in my head, “wow I feel like a complete dodo brain”. But I tell myself (while continuing to nod and smile politely) that it’s okay that I don’t know any of this stuff because God, in His great wisdom, made us all different to fulfill His purposes. And then I remind myself that while I have no idea what an acid dissociation constant is, at least I do know how to make cheese. And I bet that those who are talking about the above subjects probably don’t know how to make cheese, so there. And then I feel better about myself.

Welcome to the inside of my brain.

I feel as though I should quickly let you know that while I do know how to make cheese, I haven’t actually taken the time to make it in over three years. But if I needed to I could, especially if someone were to ask me about quadratic equations and I needed to make myself feel smarter.

So what was the point of this post? Oh yes. I was telling you that I’m not good at Geography.

Now, the irony is that I actually got A’s in Geography in high school and college. As a matter of fact, in my college World Geography class, for our final exam, we had to (brace yourself) label every single country in every single continent on the planet earth and name each country’s capital. It was the Geography test of all tests. We were handed a big, blank world map and a pencil and away we went. I had studied my tail off for that test and ended up getting 100%, thank you very much.

You would think that after taking that class I would be good at Geography. But no. I’m just good at studying for tests…and forgetting information promptly after taking a test. It’s rather pitiful.

So to prove my complete Geographical cluelessness, you may find it funny to know that when I was talking to my friend Jodi about how we should get together some day – I almost suggested that on our upcoming trip to California, perhaps we could take a route that would lead us through to her place…in Ohio. Thankfully, before I threw out the idea, I decided that I had better look at a map. Sure enough, Ohio is exactly four states to the east of Nebraska. Which – in case you’re as bad at Geography as I am – is not the direction you take when you go from Nebraska to California. Okeedokee then.

It’s a good thing I didn’t actually make this suggestion to Jodi. She’s super sweet and would have surely come up with something kind to say when she explained to me that we’d be going about two days out of our way to come for a visit “on our way” to California. And then I would have had to say,

“Yes, but did you know that I can make cheese?”

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The Case of the Missing Pants

November 20, 2012 by Laura 9 Comments

This post may contain affiliate links. For more information, please see our disclosure policy.

Once upon a time (otherwise known as last Saturday), I headed to the store to get some khaki pants for our son Justus. He was to be  Terry the Turkey in our homeschool play that evening, and as we all know, turkeys wear khaki pants (as well as a red felt waddle hooked around a headband).

Like a good mom, I had forgotten all about his need for khaki pants until the last minute. So off I went to the store at 4:00 in the afternoon – just two and a half hours before the kids needed to be in costume.

I decided to make the most of my shopping trip and purchased a cart full of items:  food to feed the youth group on Sunday; food to feed the YC basketball team on Tuesday; fruit for my family to eat; and of course, khaki pants.

Oh, and did I mention that I also picked up three gallons of Vodka?

Is it party time at the Coppinger’s house? Ummm…no. Vanilla beans are on sale, and it’s time to start another big batch of Homemade Vanilla Extract. I’m never a fan of buying the vodka – especially three gallons at one time. I know I shouldn’t worry about what people think, but I do always wonder what goes through a person’s head when they see that amount of liquor in my cart. “Focus on the bananas and clementines in my cart, People!” I shout in my head. Yes, I’m pretty sure that’s an effective diversion.

Anyway, I went through check-out with my very full cart full of fruit, youth group food, khaki pants, and vodka. Once I got home, all the boys came out to help bring in the loot. We put away all the groceries, slid the bag of vodka to the side of the kitchen for another time, and hustled to get ready to leave for the play.

But where were Justus’ new pants??

We retraced our steps. We looked through the van. We ransacked the house. There were no khaki pants to be found anywhere. Aaaahhhh!!!

I called the store. Had I left the pants there somehow? Had anyone found them?

They looked. No luck. The khaki pants had vanished.

Flustered, I gave the boys instructions to find some food, get their showers, and get ready (as much as possible) for the play. I hopped back into the van and headed back to the store. Aarrrgg! I did not have time for this!!!

Back at the store, they were gracious when I showed them my receipt, assuming that the mistake was theirs, and told me to go get another pair of pants. I searched until I found another pair, showed them to the nice lady, and then flew out of the store.

Back at home, I threw the pants at Justus, praying that they would fit. They did.

Off we went to the play, where everything went off without a hitch.

Allow me to introduce Terry the Turkey and Horace the Horse.

The following day, as I was finally taking the vodka out of the bag to get ready to make vanilla extract, you will never believe what I found. There, under all those bottles…was a pair of khaki pants.

You have got to be kidding me. I sure never thought to look UNDER the vodka. But indeed, there they were.

See? There they are…

I headed off to the store again, glad to have the mystery solved, and glad to return the pants so that the store didn’t have to “eat” the cost.

The moral of the story is:  If you ever lose your khaki pants, don’t forget to look under the vodka.

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