The contest, put on by Discovery Place, a local kids science museum, was open to children grades 2 through 8, so unfortunately M. was not allowed to enter.  (You do know we still had to make him a volcano cake anyway.)  I did plenty of research on cakes and which kind make the best novelty or shape cakes.  In case you need to know, the more dense cakes hold up better to stacking and sculpting.  I wisely decided to doctor up some cake mixes instead of making my own cakes from scratch.  Ten boxes of cake mix and 36 eggs later, we had 10 layers of pound cakes of different shapes and sizes.  Although we had a month to prepare our entry for the contest, we really had to wait until the last minute to make these things, seeing as cakes go stale after too long.  The kids were excited to help in every step of the process.

The day before was set to be construction day.  I would have liked to get an early start, but alas, the Mormon ladies were coming back by to check on me.  I cleaned the house all morning, and after they left about 4 o’clock that afternoon, we finally got started.

Step one: stack cakes up in some type of mountain formation.

Step two: Make a truckload of fondant.  This step is the real booger.  I have never made this before, and God is my witness, unless you put a gun to my head, never will again!  This is icing that is made to the consistency of modeling clay so it can be rolled out and draped over the cake like a sheet for a smooth or uniquely textured surface.   It must be kneaded by hand, but what the recipe doesn’t tell you is that you have to knead it until your hands fall off!  This was the blood, sweat and tears portion of the project.  The part that you have to have the hands of a Neanderthal Swedish masseuse to pull off.  The part the kids couldn’t do.

Step three:  Add coloring to fondant.  This is part two of the wishing-you-were-dead-right-about-now-kneading procedure to fully incorporate the food coloring into the fondant.  The kids were a tremendous help getting this started (just long enough to get themselves and my entire kitchen completely covered in food coloring.)  I finished this part as well.

Step four:  Find rolling pin.  This took a while.  I hadn’t used it recently.

Step five:  Call husband and tell him that he will have to pick up some dinner and bring it home, because you just found the rolling pin and the fondant that has to be used immediately has been waiting for 30 minutes while you were looking for it, and the kitchen is a mess, there is powdered sugar everywhere, and there is no WAY any dinner is getting made in there.

Step five:  Roll out fondant.

Step six:  Take a break and eat KFC.

Step seven:  Spread on buttercream crumb-coat.

Step eight:  Piece the fondant onto the cakes.  (I will tell you at this point, SuperGeek was starting to pitch in and help out.  I can’t tell you how invaluable his assistance was at this stage.  I did cringe slightly, though, when all the kids spontaneously broke out in thankfulness to Daddy for helping out.  What am I, chopped liver?)

Step nine:  Adorn cakes with details.  Lava, snow-capped peaks, oreo-rocks, etc.

Step ten:  Send kids to bed and go out for last minute run to the store to get dry-ice for smoke effect.

Step eleven: Call sister to get help toting these monsters to the museum downtown in the morning since SG was going to be coaching a football game in the morning.

All in all, it was a great experience.  Neither of the kids’ entries placed in the contest, but the value of presenting and participating was really worth all the effort.  M. even got to serve his cake to his teammates at the after-season party that day!  The other two were donated to the hospital where SG’s mom was recovering from hip surgery and the hospice unit there.   I will get some pictures up as soon as I quit being so lazy!

In the midst of my busyness, I think I have been missing out on connecting with and blessing (also being blessed by) others.  This reminds me of the man in the Bible who Jesus healed of blindness, only he wasn’t completely healed the first time.  His vision was all blurry.  He kept thinking he saw trees walking around in his fuzzy vision instead of people.  He was, in effect, unable to see the humanity in others.  Jesus had to do a “re-do” on him.  I don’t think that Jesus was unable to heal this man completely the first time, but the man was somehow “stuck in his blindness.”  I’m not thinking in a physical sense, of course, but spiritually.   I think I have some of those characteristics; in fact, I might be mildly autistic.  You know, the “savant” type..  Just kidding,  I do have tendencies to get lost in my own little world and forget to engage.   Thank the Lord that he is willing and able to do “re-do” for me too!  My prayer has been that the Lord would make me more loving of others every day.  That I would be willing and able to engage, and prepared to meet whatever and whoever He brings my way.

Ask and ye shall recieve!   I met some nice Mormon girls at my front door yesterday, and I was, of course, busy.  With the Lord’s help, however, I was reminded to see them as people with feelings and obligations and on a spiritual pilgrimage just like me.  So I invited them in to watch me do laundry.   I was able to listen to them and then lovingly explain to them why I think they are great people, but I don’t accept their doctrine.  They were very sweet.  I’m impressed with their devotion and willingness to go far away from their homes and engage people like me.  They probably get the door slammed in their face a lot.  And, yet they were able to stay sweet.  I admire that.  We had a great chat, prayed together, and I think it went well.  In fact, they are coming back on Friday.  I don’t know if either of us will be swayed, but I think that any outcome where people are engaged in a positive way is better than a door in the face.

I feel like a nicer person today.  I feel like being nicer to other people now.  I talked to the mail-lady today for a few minutes instead of grabbing the mail and scurrying back into my home.  I’ll admit, at first when I saw her burning rubber down my street I was really wanting to wag my finger and tell her she needs to slow down and be more aware there are kids in the neighborhood.  Once again though, the Lord showed up in the situation to remind me that she is a person.  I decided to be nice instead.  She was quite friendly and seemed happy to talk.  I noticed how incredibly uncomfortable it must be to be stretched out between the seats and pushing the gas with one foot and reaching out the other side of the car through the window to the mail boxes.  I saw how she had rigged up some towels and padding on the one side of the seat since she has to have her butt on that ridge all day.  No wonder she’s in a hurry!

Maybe that’s what it’s all about.  Maybe that’s what I’ve been missing.  Maybe the stuckness and irritated, hurried attitude go hand-in-hand.  Maybe there has been spiritual sand in my spiritual butt-crack.  That sure isn’t comfortable (hence the spiritual restlessness) and it is quite irritating.  Maybe the answer is that God will give me opportunities and if I choose to accept them, I get a blessing.  Maybe that’s what it’s all about……or maybe it’s just the hokey-pokey.

One set of footprints there was seen.

The footprints of my precious Lord,

But mine were not along the shore.

But then some stranger prints appeared,

And I asked the Lord, “What have we here?”

Those prints are large and round and neat,

“But Lord, they are too big for feet.”

“My child,” He said in somber tones,

“For miles I carried you alone.

I challenged you to walk in faith,

But you refused and made me wait.”

“You disobeyed, you would not grow,

The walk of faith, you would not know,

So I got tired, I got fed up.

And there I dropped you on your Butt,”

“Because in life, there comes a time

When one must fight, and one must climb,

When one must rise and take a stand,

Or leave their Butt prints in the sand.”

In this thought-provoking documentary, Ben Stein investigates the suppression of the scientific dialog pointing to an intelligent designer as the originator of life on Earth.   There are accomplished, credentialed scientists being forced out of their fields over this issue, and as Stein points out so eloquently, American freedoms are being eroded.  In this entertaining, yet sobering, and shocking exposé (did everyone catch that accent mark?- I AM MFP!) we are reminded that science and faith are NOT incompatible, and those trying to separate them at all costs do so with potentially dire consequences!   Check it out and come back and tell me what you think!  Link

Saturday we picked up cousin “Amfie” and had her over to spend the night.  We went to church on Sunday and enjoyed a performance by M. and his classmates.  Here is a picture of him in the front row.  He is quite a showboater and loves to be on stage!

He had nosed his way up to the front here.

After church we raced home to drop the kids off with A. so SG and I could go to the football game.  It was a real nailbiter and we had a great time.  Meanwhile A. did these cute teeny punkins with the kids.

cute teeny punkins

After the game we raced home to get the kids to a family hayride and bonfire.  It is put on at this 80-acre farm down the street.  I have never seen a bonfire that big before!  This was a great time.  This hay-man is on the front of the property.

Giant Hay-man

Monday came along and we took a family field trip that morning to attend the Charlotte Bobcat’s open practice day.  They gave out free lunch in cute totebags and a good time was had by all.

Free lunch (notice cute totebags!)

Happy family (M. shows off his popcorn)

Later that night we went to Cub Scouts Pack Night.  Joshua received his bobcat badge and officially became a Tiger cub.  Dawson also participated with his den in a skit that was really cute.

Tigers perform for the den

Dawson did a great job on his skit

On Tuesday, M. showed off his “arteestic” skills.  This is so great, it is really his best work!

M. the "Arteest"

M. copied this Robert McCloskey sketch

Meanwhile, Simon the cat escaped outside and decided to climb a tree.  This is a shot of his reluctant rescue.

E. saves Simon from imminent peril

That brings us to today.  Morning was piano lessons.  This afternoon we had to discipline another wayward cat.

Here she is trying hard to look innocent

She apparently needed to wipe really badly!

Then it was off to see my BFF!  Today is her birthday and I had forgotten to drop the card in the mailbox on Monday.  This is so uncharacteristic of me.  (Can’t you just feel the sarcasm here?)  It was great to see her today and spend some time together!

BFF and me

Wow!  I feel soooo much better now.  The blogging life is full of pressures.  Not the least of which is keeping the throngs of fans up to date with all the latest happenings.  I am sure you are all relieved.

]]> http://mizfancypants.com/2008/10/29/week-in-brief/feed/ http://mizfancypants.com/2008/10/25/teamwork/ http://mizfancypants.com/2008/10/25/teamwork/#comments Sun, 26 Oct 2008 01:33:30 +0000 Carrie http://mizfancypants.com/?p=253 I was willing to contribute.  I had good intentions.  My blogging prowess and technological savvy was growing by leaps and bounds.   My SuperGeek husband had taken me to the on-ramp of the information superhighway (he hates that term) and now I was weaving through the traffic. Surely any monkey with cymbals could handle this!   Installing widgets…no problem!  Adding images…. piece of cake!   If the mystical Oz behind the web curtain wants me to upgrade to the latest version of Wordpress, well, of course I will.  Only the latest and greatest for me! SuperGeek had spent hours customizing our new blogs, and now I would make them even better! What could possibly go wrong? I think this says it all. Actually it only takes ONE harmless flake.  An entire day, and hours of tech support later, SuperGeek is speaking to me again and has restored BOTH of our blogs which were annihilated by my innocent upgrade.  For the two of you who have been reading my blog, yes there are a few posts missing.  I will hopefully get some semblance of these posts back up soon.  I’ll be sticking to the posting and pictures from now on, thank you

I have been reminded lately of how as parents, especially homeschool parents, it’s easy to think that if things are fine now with our kids and we are business as usual, things will continue on in this way. Our culture of busyness divides and conquers us as individuals, most importantly within our own families.  As much as I try to maintain emotional engagement with my kids, I sometimes fall away in this area.  I want to be sensitive to the Lord’s leading here and remember to turn my heart towards each child individually; to work on knitting that bond stronger while I have the chance, so that it can’t be broken later.

Messy Spirituality found me at the bookstore this week.  I like this book.  In the midst of the self-help message on Christianity shelves, I am drawn to the spirit of this book.  Like the title implies, it is about living in the reality of brokenness and striving.  What does true spiritual growth look like?  Is it a constant upward slope to heaven from the moment you accept Christ?  The author suggests that many people find themselves in more of a spurts and starts pattern with frustratingly long periods of stuckness.   This really resonates with me, and reading this book has been like a liberating counseling session on God’s “couch.”   God has reminded me to slow down and understand that He is working in the “stuckness.”  Maybe more so than in times when I “feel” spiritual.  It is also encouraging to remember that His Kingdom values what may seem the most miniscule accomplishments.

I remembered that I had some Russian Tea way in the back of my cabinet.  This jelly jar of magic elixir came as a re-gift from my mother-in-law last Christmas, and I hadn’t opened it yet.  She doesn’t drink it.  I don’t really either; that is, unless I’m sick.   My mom would make it from time to time when I was growing up, and I can remember feeling very sophisticated while sipping it from one of Mom’s coffee mugs.  Nothing says comfort like a hot, steaming cup of Tang and Lipton Instant Tea.  I drank a lot of Tang growing up.  Just knowing it was consumed in outer-space made me feel as if it must contain every nutrient needed to sustain life.  The instant tea by itself is completely vile, though.  It tastes nothing like brewed tea, and given a choice, even lukewarm tap water beats it hands down. But in making Russian Tea, something magic happens in the mixing, like a chemical reaction between additives, preservatives and nutmeg that produces healing citrus vapors. Or maybe it’s something else entirely that brings the comfort.

My mom was not the June-Cleaver-homemade-soup-type, or the Earthy-natural-remedy-type.  She was the Pill-Pushing-Synthetic-Chemical-Mom.  It’s not easy to conjure comforting associations with Benedryl, though.  So maybe the Russian Tea is a better peg for hanging good memories.   I had a dream the other night that I was away at college at a pay phone and trying to reach my mother.  It had been such a long time since I had talked to her and for some reason I couldn’t remember her number.  I thought I remembered her moving far away to Kannapolis, maybe?  Is that a 670 area code?  If I could just get someone to tell me the exchange, maybe I could remember the rest of the number. People I called to ask weren’t home, or I would reach someone and we would have a bad connection and the number didn’t come through clearly.  I called everyone I knew and I was running out of change.

It was then I woke up to the pang of the reality that she has been gone for 4 years now.   It’s funny how your brain can “forget” such a key piece of information while you sleep.  This wasn’t the first time I had dreams of trying to reach her.  In the better ones, I do get through.  I run into her in the strangest places. We share a smile.  Maybe she’s at a party holding a cigarette with her pinky finger delicately extended.  Her expressions, her mannerisms flood back to my memories and I get the warm hug I was missing.   I long for those dreams.  I wonder if they are real.  I like to think that on some level they are.   Maybe my soul is reminding me of the reality my head can’t really grasp.  My faith tells me she’s with Jesus.  My soul knows she isn’t really gone.  She’s just far away.  Unreachable for now.  Someplace exotic with a new area code that no one here knows yet.  For now, I’ll sniffle and await the day we can sip Russian Tea together in Kannapolis .