The Olympics are totally cramping my bedtime

Along with other resolutions, I wanted to be in bed by 9:30 p.m., hopefully asleep by 10 p.m. in 2010.

But when it comes to bobsled runs, figure skating, downhill skiing and the always-fascinating speed skating, I just have no self-control.

Anybody else up at midnight these days?

Bouef Bourguignon. Um...maybe not.

I just finished reading "Julie and Julia."

(I'm not exaggerating when I say I'm years behind in everything.)

After months on the waiting list, I finally got the book as well as Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" from the library last week and finished the memoir in just two days.

Between plunging a knife between the eyes of a live lobster, the dramatic cursing like a sailor and the never-ending "I might jump off the cliff" talk, it was fascinating.

I loved the movie because:

1. the food dripping in butter looked scrumptious and
   
2. the two marriages were portrayed with encouragement, passion and humor.
   

The book, however, has a much different focus, the fact that this woman completed 524 stinkin' hard recipes in 365 days!!!

I know this is a big part in the movie but I think this accomplishment gets kinda glossed over and romanticized in the movie because there's more attention given to Julia Child's storyline about the challenges of getting her cookbook even published.

But my word, have you looked through these recipes?! I thought it would be fun to try a few but I'm not sure if I'm up for it.

In other words, I'd rather not cook for three days for a dish that will be eaten in five minutes if it tastes decent at all. Also? A lot of them call for calves' livers, brains and bone marrow.

Am I the crazy one or is it Julia?

Bouef bourguignon is supposedly Julia's signature dish. Even though I am not a red meat fan, I thought it might be a good one to try.

The first ingredient is a 6-ounce chunk of bacon.

Not bacon slices. A chunk of bacon. Is this even available in Indiana?

The first step is to remove the rind and then cut the bacon into lardons which are sticks 1/4 inch thick and 1 1/2 inches long.

So my first thought is "What the heck is a bacon rind?" My second, "Why can't I just use packaged bacon slices, Julia?"

Clearly, I am no Julie Powell.

Also, these women made mayonnaise from scratch. By beating ingredients with a whisk and a bowl.

That mayo better taste like manna from heaven to require the time, energy and ingredients to make something like MAYONNAISE from scratch.

But in Julia's defense, I must say her cookbook reads like a novel. I might never make anything from it but it sure is fascinating.

I'll keep you all updated if I attempt any of these recipes but I think it's a better possibility that I'll grab some lukewarm e-coli from Taco Bell and just watch the movie instead.

Oh Bissell steam mop, I love you

Our house has only hardwood floors, Yes, some winter mornings I worry about frostbite on my feet but I just take one look at them and all is forgiven.

Since the house was built in the 1930s, these floors have experienced a lot. Most recently, they've witnessed Madeline's potty training and her resilient propensity to knock over any glass within 30 feet.

(Sidenote: those of you with carpet? How in the world did you survive that stage?)

But while I love how easily spilt milk is cleaned up on a slick surface, I have struggled and struggled to deeply clean my floors.

To clarify, when I say struggled and struggled, I mean I closed my eyes and squirted Murphy's Oil Soap over my shoulder every now and then.

A broom just collects the dust bunnies and missing Disney Princess checker pieces. Wet mops seem to just smear the dirt and grime around. And mushed black beans are abundant here. Clearly, we need help.

One day after Christmas, Joe came home and said, "I love you so very much and I will now display my enduring love for you by buying an amazing contraption to make your life easier. Let's buy a steam mop."

Or maybe he just said, "I think we should buy a steam mop" but really? My blog, my story.

Anyways, he went out that night and returned home with a Bissell steam mop.

I've been in love ever since.

We were positively giddy the first time we used it. If any neighbors peeked in our house that night, they would have seen us enthralled by the hiss and heat of the rising steam.

And then came the moment when we flipped the mop head over to see how much dirt came off our floor.

Oh. My. Word.

Let's just say that baby earned its keep that night. Our floors were finally clean. Gloriously clean.

To quote my sister-in-law Janna after she borrowed our new baby, "The whole house smells like freshly-washed laundry without having anything to fold."

Seriously folks, it's THAT good.

You are all cordially invited to come over and eat off our floor.

Growing up should be illegal in Indiana

Have you seen this Olympic commercial? I tear up every single time and I do mean every single time.



Madeline and I spent today at my parent's house since my mom and brother had the day off. We watched the snow fall throughout the day, ate Special-K loaf and apple crisp, took a 2-hour nap and watched home videos.

It is always wonderful to go back home.

Anyways, my mom and I were talking about the P&G commercial and she said it's exactly how she feels.

I realized this means that sometimes my mom probably sees me as a giant hairbow-wearing 5-year-old with two missing front teeth who is caring for a tiny little munchin who is the spitting image of her baby girl.

I already can't possibly imagine Madeline heading to kindergarten, much less graduating college, creating a career, falling in love, having babies.

I want a million mornings like today when we can wear our pajamas and take silly pictures. I know I can't have a million but I'm grateful for the last couple hundred with my baby who will grow some more tomorrow.

Life is so strangely wonderful and beautifully absurd. I love it.

Please laugh as hard as I did

When your new IPad comes in the mail... at NOTCOT

Vaguebooking at Urban Dictionary

Fun with punctuation at BoingBoing

You're welcome.

Is french braiding on a 2 year old worth it?

Absolutely.

What's with me and cheese at parties?

I can't speak for everyone else in Indianapolis or all the Colts fans spread out across the states but I'm pretty bummed. After the loss last night, I think I've been experiencing different stages of grief.

First, the unbelief. (But...this is what we do. We come back with two minutes left in the fourth quarter.)

Next, the sadness. (It just...didn't cross my mind that we really wouldn't win. I mean, our boys speak ancient Gaelic after all.)

Then the anger. (That onside kick. Ugh! That onside kick!.)

Back to the sadness. (I can't believe Madeline won't get to go to a rally in the stadium this week.)

I'm trying my best to move on and not think about all those nights growing up that I slept with a giant fuzzy blue football instead of a teddy bear or a doll.

So let's talk about cheese instead, OK? Because for some reason, when it comes to party food, I'm drawn to the cheese like Madeline to pink, glittery objects.

Last night, I brought The Cooks Next Door's cherry almond brie en croute to my uncle's Super Bowl party. I now love this appetizer. It took less than five minutes to assemble but the finished look makes people think you spent all afternoon on it.

In my opinion, you should always encourage this line of thinking by using phrases like, "after grinding the wheat myself for the dough" or "I was afraid milking good ol' Bessie wouldn't lead to good brie but whaddya know!"

After that onside kick (OH THAT ONSIDE KICK!), I was tempted to begin eating the brie with a spoon because this is an appetizer that has the potential to melt away your emotions with all its gooey cheesy sweetness.

So if you are also grieving with me today, get thee some brie, cherry preserves, almonds and puff pastry. You'll feel better soon.

It's a long one, folks. My apologies.

I know it's a little late to be posting New Year's resolutions but I've just had these ideas rolling around in my head for the last month and I thought maybe it was time to write them out.

(No, I'm not a procrastinator. Why do you ask?)

Normally, my list of resolutions looks something like this:

• eat less, move more
• watch less TV, clean the house more
• be a better wife, a better mom, a better Christian

But this year, every time I went to write my list, I kept thinking of a verse God pressed on my heart all last year:

Trust in the Lord and do good.
Psalm 37:3

Last summer, I attended Beth Moore simulcast on Psalm 37 which was an amazing experience. When she preached on verse 3, she pointed out that God didn't write, "be right" or "say the right things."

He said, "do good."

I'm in a season of life when mothering and taking care of my family and home consumes my time. And while I believe staying home is very worthwhile and its own ministry, God has also shown me that it doesn't mean I can't serve in other ways.

He's also pointed out that I've been using it as an excuse to not serve. (Ouch. Yeah that one hurt.)

Just because I have a 2 year old doesn't mean I'm totally incapable of helping an inner-city after-school program. My friend just brings her two toddlers with her to play with the other kids.

Or I can pick up several extra cans at the grocery for a food pantry and love on others who need a little extra help.

Or I could even commit several evening hours once a week somewhere without thinking I'm abandoning my family.

I guess what I'm trying to say is I often say that I need to really pray something over and feel that peace before I can do something but really? Do I need to wait for God to say, "Katie, go do some good."

Because from everything I've been reading in the Bible, He says that. A lot.

If I'm totally rambling and not making sense, Ashleigh's post captured a lot of what I've been mulling over.

God also said to trust Him.

This is something I've struggled with this year. As amazing and rewarding as staying home is, it is isolating too. It often is very lonely.

(This sounds very emo so please picture me with heavy black eye-liner, OK?)

There are days when I don't leave the house at all and even the days that we do get out, we always spend the afternoon at home for Madeline's nap.

When I do express that I'm struggling to understand my purpose while wiping the table once again, I often hear, "Oh but what you are doing is important. Don't feel that way."

I know it's well-intended but I want to say back, "I know it is! Otherwise I wouldn't be devoting years of my life towards staying home! But that doesn't change the fact that cleaning the house and having my thirteen-millionth tea party and answering, 'What's this?' 752 times a day can feel futile."

But then that's the problem, isn't it? It feels futile and every stinkin' time, feelings overwhelm and bury the facts.

Because the fact is I know this is what I should be doing. I know that is what is best for my family. I know all this but this fall and winter, I let my feelings grow and choke out these facts and have been having quite the pity party.

But the pity party is over. The fact is I'm doing exactly what I should and (truly, madly, deeply) want to be doing. I just have to remember to trust God on the days that aren't filled with daisies and bunnies and warm fuzzies.

So this year, while I also want to finally lose that dang baby weight and actually dust the ceiling fan blades in our bedroom, I want to first strive to do good and trust God.

And if you read these convoluted thoughts all the way through, I love you and promise to be back again soon.