This Is What Fall Is About
The Secret in The Citrus
My mom taught me to cook and bake as I grew up. I would help her tear bread for the stuffing at holidays. Cut apples for applesauce or pie. I’d stir the batter for the most delicious brownies.
All along the way I’d glean tips and tricks to what makes my Mom’s meals delicious. Little nuggets of information that have stuck with me into my marriage.
One of my favorite secrets happens to tie in with my favorite fall treat.
Apple Crisp.
My Mom’s secret lay in the citrus that you add. Instead of a tart lemon, she used orange. Now, before you go crying that the citrus isn’t necessary because you expect the apples to brown in this delicious dessert…of course you do. But, if you add a touch of orange as your citrus – it’s a sweet little kick that punches up the flavor. The way you put in that citrus is up to you. I favor orange juice concentrate (a couple of tablespoons), you could use orange juice – heck, my mom has been known to use Tang. Yes, TANG.
Try it – along with my other secret (vary the apples, I use up to 4-5 different kinds). I bet you won’t regret it.
Recipe: Apple Crisp
Summary: Recipe is for one pie sized dessert. Increase as needed for larger desserts (as I did in my example pictures)
Ingredients
- Filling:
- 6 apples – at least 1 granny smith
- 2Tbs White Sugar
- 2Tbs Brown Sugar
- 2Tbs Flour
- 1Tbs Orange Juice concentrate
- Topping:
- 1/2 Stick Butter
- 1/8 C Brown Sugar
- 1/4 C Flour
Instructions
- Peel & Core apples
- Slice – granny’s hold up better so slice them thinner, the other varieties slice thicker
- Mix with rest of filling ingredients and put into pie plate
- Using pastry cutter or fork, cut together topping ingredients
- Sprinkle topping over pie
- Bake 50-60 minutes at 350*
- Turn on broiler for 3-5 minutes until topping is crisp to your liking.
Preparation time: 20 minute(s)
Cooking time: 1 hour(s)
Number of servings (yield): 6
Thoughts and Turns and Tumbles
This week has been an intense, crazy, world-shattering week.
My brain has been blown to bits. My concentration shattered.
Things I can’t discuss have turned everything upside down and sideways.
But in the turmoil have been moments of good that have helped me maintain balance.
An almost 3-hour lunch with a good friend.
A food fight with my kids over dinner.
The beautiful colors in the blanket of leaves covering my yard.
Hours on the phone with my best friend.
Playing Uno (Star Trek Uno, of course) with my kids.
A night out with good friends and more hugs than I even knew I needed.
Small moments of peace amidst the chaos that help me keep my balance.
Small moments of joy.
Sometimes it’s the small moments that get us through.
Most of the Time I’m Sure I Suck at This
Way back when this picture was taken I sure thought I was good at this. (Picture credit goes to my mom who had the fancy camera way back then…in FILM *Gasp*)
Back, 14 years ago, when Denver was only 2. When I only had the one. When my co-parent was my own parents. When the biggest problem I dealt with was chronic BM issues (yeah, he’ll kill me if he ever reads this). When he was cute and adorable and obedient and kind and polite.
When life was “easy”.
Now there are three.
There is school. Homework. Teachers. Doctors. Specialists. Special Medicines. Bills. Cleaning. THREE kids. Doctors. THREE kids. Quirks. Hospitals. Marriage. Home repairs. Car maintenance. Cleaning. THREE kids.
Oh, did I repeat myself once or twice? Yeah. I know.
I don’t want to use the term “bad mother”…because, you know…it’s such a debate trigger.
Sometimes, though. Sometimes I look at myself and I see that I’m not good at this.
I don’t have patience.
I don’t have answers.
I don’t do the things that you’re supposed to. I love to read to myself, but get bored reading to my kids (shameful, I know).
I don’t have patience.
I don’t check homework every day after school.
I always miss deadlines for snack week, permission slips, all those things.
I don’t have patience.
I don’t give my kids daily baths. Or every couple of days. (But in my defense, my baths were 1x/week)
I use the TV as a babysitter.
I’m online too much (I’m trying to do better…some days I do better than others).
I don’t have patience.
…..
Are we detecting a common theme?
Sometimes I wonder what part of my brain actually thought growing up that I would grow into this ‘perfect’ mom. I saw myself doing it all. Crafts, dinner, cleaning…the perfect little household.
My ‘perfect’ has redefined itself into something that feels far from perfect for me.
It’s a process.
I’m working on redefining myself as a mom.
To snap less. To breathe and have patience. To do more cleaning. More cooking. Making sure I’m more involved in what my kids are doing in school.
I want to feel like I’m good at being a mom. Like I DESERVE the title. EVERY day. Not just now & then.
Wordless Wednesday
She Looks Fine to Me…
*Otherwise titled “The post in which I piss people off.”
From the time our troubles started, from the time we first realized there was just something ‘off’ about Riley. From the day We realized Angel’s torticollis was more than just a lazy neck and a heavy head. From the day we realized Angel’s cough was going for a month and showed no signs of letting up. From the first time Angel intentionally injured herself. From the first toys Riley lined up. Every day, every night, every in between we are aware. We notice when Angel runs out of steam before she’s played for ten minutes. We notice when Riley is starting to retreat into her shell. When we’re in danger of a meltdown of epic proportions. In danger of a night of a screaming, pouting, angry Riley.
We notice it all.
We see it in the every day.
We see it in the little things.
Every action, every reaction.
It’s a part of our lives. It is our every day.
Then you come along and say “But she looks just fine to me.” Or “She doesn’t seem autistic.” And of course the “She doesn’t act sick.”
I know you mean well. Really, I do.
But I hate it when you say that.
It’s like you’re belittling our every day.
The hours at doctors and specialists. The hours calming and refocusing an over-stimulated child (longest meltdown stands at 36 hours). The hours a day hooked up to machines to live every day. The way I lay awake at night listening to labored breathing. Check temperatures every time we feel a little warm.
I know you don’t mean it this way. I know you just mean to say that despite their troubles they look healthy and happy. That unlike other children with special needs it’s not a visible/noticeable difference.
But I hate it.
Just say they’re beautiful. Say they have a great smile. They look like they’re having a blast.
Don’t contradict what we KNOW. Riley does have autism (no matter how mild). Angel does have CF, and right now she is sick (and we spend every day wondering just how badly it’s holding on).
It is our every day.
We try to live life beyond our labels – and we only succeed by accepting them and integrating what they mean into our lives.
*~*
*This post is a re-post from a couple of years ago. It’s still very relevant to us today.