You don't get it.

I don’t think you get it. I don’t think you understand life with ADHD.

Have you seen the short film “Falling Letters”? Do you think that is what ADHD is like? I don't. Life with ADHD is not slow, or sweet at all. It’s a technicolor, non-stop, exhausting barrage of information that you are expected to prioritize, sort, react and respond to with limited access to will power and self-control. Life with ADHD is not a quiet moment of distractedness. It’s being in front of a Jumbotron broken into the ever-changing scenes of the moment. They are all equally loud, and equally sized. 

Imagine standing in the electronics aisle and every TV is on a different channel. We have to figure out, through trial and (A LOT) of error, which of those TVs are important, which one we are supposed to focus on, which one we should react to, and which one we should ignore. It would be so incredibly nice to turn a few off, or even down, but we can’t. WE CAN’T!!! And it’s exhausting.

Our thoughts, and writing, and conversations hop from topic to topic, often circling back, because all of the TVs in front of us seem equally important, and if we don’t comment or react right in-the-moment, the scene may change. It seems like impulsiveness, but it's more than that. It is a driving need to process as much as we can before it slips away. Sometimes it feels like we are trying to hold sand in an open hand, sifting through the grains of information as fast as we can as it falls through our fingers.

Think of a child in a classroom. The teacher, the chalkboard, the sound of the air-conditioning , the stain on the shirt of the kid next to you, the worksheet in front of you, the crayon with weird white stuff on it...

To a “normal" child all of these are easy to focus on in three dimensions. You push back and block out the little things without even realizing you are doing it. The teacher’s voice is loudest, the chalkboard the prominent backdrop, the worksheet in front of you the most important thing to work on. The air-conditioning and stained shirt and odd crayon residue are just small things on the periphery that beg no attention or notice.

A child with ADHD, like my son, on the other hand is bombarded with all these stimuli equally. The teacher’s voice is drowned out by the way the hum of the air-conditioning pulses. The child’s shirt stain and all it various color is more mesmerizing than what is on the chalkboard. The need to explore the strange white stuff on the crayon is more interesting and therefore more important than the worksheet.

So we learn to cope. We learn to physically wrench our focus onto the teacher. Sometimes physically putting up a hand to block the view of the stained shirt, or putting a finger in our ear to block out the sound of the air-conditioning. We twist and turn in our seat or click our pen because the movement and rhythm helps us focus. Creating a controlled distraction that we can put on autopilot to drown out others. We start to drift, then pull our attention back, over and over, squeezing the focus from our mind like an athlete squeezes one more shaky rep out of his workout routine. We read the same line over and over, jump from question to question, working in no particular order. As we write, our mind drifts. We pull it back, but it's too late. What were we writing? We forget, so we move on planning to come back to it. Finally, we get to the end, catch our breath. It took everything we had in that moment, but we finished.

Then comes the poor grade from you, the negative feedback from me. “Rushed” “Sloppy” “More Effort Needed”.

My son takes his medicine every morning to help make our jobs easier. I know first hand the calmness it brings. It's like someone hands you a remote. One by one you can turn down the distracting televisions, scroll through the channels with ease, only there aren't as many anymore, and they all have turned black and white. See the medicine helps, but it numbs his personality, and he crashes back into technicolor reality the moment it wears off. It's like jerking the remote away and blasting the volume.

Needless to say, the physical and emotional back lash of being on medication takes its toll. My son struggles to gain weight, and gets little sleep and night, as if his mind is working overtime to get through all those shows he had shut off. But on the days we miss it, he can't do anything right. He's distracted and loud, impulsive and messy, and God knows we let him know it. The barrage of negative feedback visibly crushes him. So I tell myself it is worth it because I yell less, his teachers like him more, and in the long run, he won’t grow up feeling like he can't do anything right, and just give up. 

But deep deep down, I know making him easier to deal with is not truly the answer. ADHD does not have to be a curse, it has the potential to be a gift. These children can be taught to change, or they can be taught to change the world. ADHD has a remarkable place in history. Presidents, prime ministers, actors, artist, musicians, scientists, engineers, some of our best and brightest showed signs of ADHD.

Think back to standing in that electronics aisle. While you can only focus on a one or two televisions, and digest the world directly in front of you, ADHD children can take in dozens of channels at once. And when they find a TV that is playing something they like, they are able to focus on it at the exclusion of everyone and everything. They will notice every detail of the program, and re-watch it over and over, memorizing the lines. Taking things apart, building, constructing, creating, inventing, rehearsing, LEARNING.

Yes that's right, my ADHD son can learn. Yes, he is harder to teach, and frustrating to talk to, and difficult to keep engaged, but he does not think like you. He thinks bigger and broader and smaller and deeper. He tries harder and worries endlessly. He is bright and has so much potential. What do you do with it? Do you dig deeper and find a way to ignite the spark that unlocks it. Do you nurture and encourage that drive or shove it in a box in the dark where it is less distracting? Do you understand how much your actions impact him? 

So please, I beg of you, do not give up on us. Do not give up on my son. Because here's the thing, he's not failing, we are. And the sad part is, you don't get it. 

George

I desperately wanted to name one of our children George (or Georgia), but my husband just couldn't get behind it. I don't blame him, before the royal baby came along, it wasn't the coolest or most popular name on the charts. My argument was always that with men like George Washington, George Clooney, George Patton and the George Bushes rocking the name, how could our child not rock the hell out of it too?!

There was another reason the name George held a particularly special place in my heart.  My Grandad's name was George, and he embodied everything I could hope for in one of my children.  Kindness, strength, love, faith, intelligence, self discipline,  humor, devotion, perseverance, humility and simplicity (in all the best ways), and I (along with many others) just loved him.  I don't smoke and I'm not a fan of clouds of nicotine, but the smell of cigarette smoke reminds me of him, and I can't hate it, no matter how hard I try.  Smoking was his one bad habit...well, that and bourbon if you count cocktails as a bad habit (which I totally don't).

But there's another George that captured my heart....George Strait. I don't know why, either.  I grew up in a small south Texas town, but it wasn't a farming community or anything. I'm not a cowgirl. I didn't ever own a pair of cowboy boots until this year! That being said, the first dance I learned was the 2-step, and the first music I learned to love was country music.

My grandparents (all 4, including grandad George!) lived in a small town in the panhandle of Texas called Borger.  It was an 11 hour drive from my hometown to there, more if we stopped.  We went without fail every summer I was growing up, and along the way I'd see this great state of Texas in all its lovely forms. From coastal planes, to the pine trees of east texas, to the dusty panhandle, and as I admired the beautiful scenery that was my home state, country music would serenade us through the tape deck.

George was special though...being from Texas, his music somehow sounded more like 'home' that any of the other artists. I would stay with my aunt a lot in the summer growing up, and when his songs would come on the radio, she'd say..."Shhh! It's George!" :) And one of my favorite memories of my baby brother is when he suddenly started singing along to the chorus of "If You're Thinking You Want A Stranger (There's One Coming Home)". My brother was tiny at the time, but it just proved how many times we'd all heard those songs.    

George became immortalized in my heart, though, when my dad was driving back and forth to see his mom before she passed away.  Borger was a little bitty town, so when Grandma was in the hospital, it was in the near-by city of Amarillo. Dad would leave Friday after work and drive all night to get to Amarillo by Saturday morning to be with Grandma over the weekend before heading home.  He did this at least 5 or 6 times before she passed away.  And every time I hear the fiddle solo that opens for the George Strait song "Amarillo by morning" I can't help but picture my dad on those empty roads and the sun coming up over the lonely Texas Panhandle plains as he drove to say, 'goodbye' to his mom.     

After Grandma passed away, we didn't go to Borger as often anymore. Grandad would travel to see us.  But, about that time Dad took me to see George at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo.  We had gone to the Rodeo several times before...once a year almost, and I had seen tons of people sing, but George was incredible.  He connected with the crowd in a way I'd never experience before, and where most people rode a convertible out of the arena waving to the crowd, he hopped off the stage onto a horse and trotted around the arena.  He was a true Texas cowboy riding away and he embodied everything gracious and kind and simple I loved about my home state and my Dad and my Grandad, and to this day, his music instantly takes me back to my childhood.    

George doesn't tour very often, and about a year ago I had mentioned to Stephen that seeing him in concert one last time before he retired was on my bucket list.  About a week after I made that statement, George announce his farewell tour.  The timing could not have been worse, though.  I was pregnant with our third child, due smack dab in the middle of his first leg through Texas.  We tried 3 or 4 times to make it happen, but it just wasn't possible.  I had all but given up, when Christmas rolled around this year.  I was looking through a stack of cards from family when I came across an envelope with my name written in big bubble letters across the front.  I assumed it was from my little sister, but when I opened it, this is what I saw:

I was shocked!  I couldn't believe my amazing husband, Stephen, got me tickets to see my George!!!!!!!  We're going to his Baton Rouge show, and I CAN. NOT. WAIT!!  And at some point during that concert - probably when he sings "Amarillo by Morning" or "The Cowboy Rides Away" or both - I'm going to cry.  It's going to happen. I'm going to cry big ol' buckets for the summer memories that are getting dusty as I get older, for my Grandad who I miss every day, for the love I have for my Daddy and what George means to him, and for the loss of a simpler time.  I'll get nostalgic and melancholy, and then I'll look at my husband who will grin from ear to ear, and the corners of his eyes will crinkle with the sweet wrinkles of age that I adore.  And I will think of our three incredible babies...none named George, but who are part of his legacy.  I'll be reminded that the past was incredible, but the present is pretty amazing, and the future is full of possibilities.  

George is my past.  Stephen is my present, and together with Carter, Jack and Grace, they are my future.  So here's to George, and one last farewell!!             

Labor of Love - Grace's Nursery

Grace's nursery is finished!  

It all started with this tapestry I bought on sale from Urban Outfitters before our middle child was born.  It's a navy, orange, pink, and light blue illustrated forest scene with a whimsical folk-ish vibe, and I knew it would be perfection in a girl's room. Of course, we had a boy, so the tapestry went into a drawer, and clearly I never got around to getting rid of it. Score one for being a procrastinating pack-rat! As soon as we found out we'd be welcoming a baby girl into this room, I dug it out, put a black out liner on the back and turned it into 3 roman shades. It became a jumping-off point for the rest of the space, and looks like this fantastic fairy tale world is outside her window when the shades are down.

The crib, book shelves, drapes, chair, side table, dresser, mirror and wall color (Behr Urban mist) were all left overs from the room's previous design, and were all either too costly or too time consuming (i.e. I was too lazy) to change.  Still, I wanted to make the room girly, fun, and a smile-worthy space that our daughter would love and could grow into. I'm so happy with how it turned out - I feel like I found a good balance between form and function. And since this is my third and final nursery to decorate, I don't feel bad at all for saying it's my favorite of the three by far! :)

School Daze

As a stay-at-home-mom, the end of summer meant zilch for a while, but this year was different.  All three kiddos started some form of school this year and all three had a big 'first'.

Miss Grace started MDO on Wednesdays this year. I've only had the tiniest bit of regret/remorse/emotion about handing over my 6 month old.  It helps that her teachers are absolutely amazing, but it also helps that I'm so desperate to get stuff done without kids, I pretty much kiss her goodbye and sprint out the door. There's always so much to tackle in those brief 5.5 hours, I barely have time to pee, let alone get emotional.

Jack started his first year of preschool.  It's really a tiny distinction...same building, same hours, but 'preschool' didn't technically start until this year. Biggest changes are they don't take naps and they must be fully potty trained. The no-naps thing was a breeze...unlike Carter, Jack hasn't napped on a regular basis for over a year. In fact, the very first thing he said when I picked him up was, "Mommy, they didn't make us take a nap, so I got to go outside TWO times!!!'  The potty training on the other hand we squeezed in juuuust under the wire. And if he comes out of the bathroom without his pants half as often as he does at home, I'm dreading the first parent-teacher conference.

We also added a kindergartener to the ranks this year - yay Carter!! Leading up to the big day, I felt what any other normal parent of a public school aged child would...relief and excitement that I would have a child in school 5 days a week for FREE.  Surprisingly, though, I found myself getting really nostalgic towards the end of summer.  We even took a last minute family vacation to soak up those last few days with him.  By the time meet-the-teacher rolled around, though, I was so caught up in the logistics of it all, I didn't really stop moving long enough to get emotional.  The school relaxed its visitor policy to allow the parents to walk kids to class, so on the first day, and the second, drop off was a breeze.  Then on day 3 when I had to drop Carter off, and all I saw was that big backpack headed through those big double doors, I officially lost it.  I had to pull over I was crying so hard.  He just looked too little to be going to such a big school.  It was more than that too, from now on, there won't be a school year that goes by that he is home with me during the week...he's at an age I remember so clearly...he's beginning a journey that's going to be filled with ups and downs and things I can't protect him from.  I know my job is far from over, but it was the end of a chapter and the realization hit me hard.  Anyway, it was another reminder that even though the first five years are some of the hardest and most challenging, they are over in the blink of an eye.    

You are beautiful

There is beauty everywhere in every place. There is beauty in our differences.  There is beauty in your smile, there is beauty in your laugh, there is beauty in your crazy hair, and your chunky thighs and tiny nose.  Self acceptance...that's what I pray for you.  I want you to love yourself my sweet Gracie girl.  I want you to  have confidence in yourself and make yourself laugh. And despite my prayers, I know deep down, you're still going to be plagued by self doubt.  I know this because every female I've ever met suffers from this, even the most beautiful ones.  And believe me sweet girl, I am surrounded by some truly beautiful women.  I hope you surround yourself with beautiful women too.  Take them in and love them and tell them how beautiful they are, on the inside and out.  Women need each other...we gain something from these friendships that is hard to put into words.  And when you are surrounded by these beautiful women, full of flaws they struggle to see past, remind yourself that they don't see your flaws...they see how smart and strong and amazing you are, and cherish your friendship. You may have a few catty women in the bunch, but know they need your love more than the others...they are struggling with self doubt more than the others...love them, but don't listen to them.  Call me instead.  I'll tell you how beautiful you are, and I'll be so frustrated when you don't believe me, or roll your eyes and tell me I have to think that because I'm your mom.  And while it's true, I'm going to always think you are the most beautiful girl in the world, and that no other girl can hold a candle to you, it's not because you are undeserving of this...it's because you. are. beautiful.  

Foxy

I wanted something big and bold over the crib in our daughter's nursery.  I spent hours hunting around Etsy, but decided to try my hand at painting something.

I used a 50% off coupon to purchase the biggest, deepest canvas I could find at Michael's (4'x5').  It sat in the nursery for weeks...I felt like those underpants gnomes from Southpark.  Step 1: Buy Giant Canvas.  Step 2: ??????  

I finally found this on Pinterest and figured it looked simple enough.  I grabbed 2 quarts of paint from the hardware store in pink and white, a few paint brushes, and got to work.

Even though I took my time planning and sketching, I messed up my first two attempts.  I was able to paint over my mistakes, but was completely stressed by the experience and began searching around for less intimidating alternatives.  I wound up in my gift wrap closet, and had one of those 'aha!' moments when I saw a pile of red tissue paper.  A quick search on pinterest for 'fox illustrations' revealed some simple geometric designs and I got busy cutting.  

The process is pretty straight forward...cut out the pieces, place them on the canvas, move and trim as needed, then mod podge the pieces down starting with the bottom layer and working your way up.

I loved the freedom of being able to tweak things before committing to a shape or placement.  One downside to this method is the tissue paper can tear if you are not careful..I had to water down the mod podge a little to keep it from pulling the paper too hard.  It's also helpful to have a few extra pieces cut out in case something goes wrong, then you can just peel up the botched layer (while it's still wet) and put another piece down.  Each layer needs to dry for an hour or 2 before moving on to the next, but I found this process worked well with my mom-schedule.  I could pop in and lay down a layer in just a few minutes then walk away for days if I needed to, rather than trying to find a large chunk of time to spend on the project.  

The other speed bump I encountered was how transparent the white tissue paper became once it came in contact with the mod podge.  I ended up doing about five layers of white to get it to show up, and it was still more transparent that I would have liked.  You could save a lot of time by doing one or two layers of white tissue, then going over it with white paint, but after my failed attempts with paint, working with more tissue paper seemed easier to me at the time. 

In the end, I kinda like how the various layers show through...I think it gives it character!  

The gold leaves were a late addition. I didn't plan on doing anything else besides the fox, but he just looked so lonely all by himself, I pulled some inspiration from my original design idea.  Fun fact, that tissue paper is from anthropologie...it's what they used to wrap some purchases I made for the nursery in.  Waste not, want not! :)  

This project probably ended up costing about $90 ($50 of that was for the canvas), but could easily be done for a fraction of the price if working on a smaller canvas.  Time wise, I spread it out over two weekends, but you could knock it out in a weekend or even a day depending on the number of layers your design has.  

I'm thrilled with the outcome, and so is Grace!  She loves the bright colors and contrast and I absolutely love that I was able to create something special and one-of-a-kind for my daughter's nursery.  

  

It's not pretty.

Hahahaha....wrote this a while back, so I can say, we're doing better!  But honestly, having a baby is TOUGH!  We were so glad when Grace hit the 6month mark. NO MORE INFANTS IN THE CHILDRESS HOUSE!  WOOO WHOOO!!!


So, we've recently added another human to the house.  She is wonderful, beautiful, adorable, healthy, and everything we prayed for.  And at this moment she is crying herself blue in the other room because she refuses to sleep, and I refuse to feed her AGAIN (to recap, she ate at 7, 9 and 10).  We need a schedule STAT, I am losing my mind.  She cluster feeds 24-7 and never. goes. to. sleep.  I have never felt so resentful towards something the size of a watermelon.  So when you see those soft-focused, black and white pictures of moms gazing lovingly at their precious children, know that it's all an illusion.  REAL motherhood is not pretty.  It's me sitting here in pajamas I had on yesterday, hair that hasn't been washed since last week, teeth that haven't been brushed because I'm guzzling coffee and blogging to keep from crying.

As for going from 2 kids to 3....I wish someone would have warned me!!!!  When I was pregnant with our second, everyone felt the need to tell me just how hard having 2 kids would be.  Granted I was having 2 under 2, but every single mom, grandmother, aunt or postal worker I encountered seemed to feel compelled to let me know how hard the first 6 months would be. Some people said it would take a year to adjust.  The general population had me so terrified of the challenge that the stress I felt anticipating 2 under 2 far outweighed the stress I felt actually raising 2 kids under 2.

When I was pregnant with number 3 however, the only comments I got were, 'Do you know what you  are you having? another boy??'  Seriously, that was it...people just wanted to know if it was a third boy.  No one seemed to feel the need to tell me that my brain was about to explode from levels of exhaustion and stress I didn't think humanly possible.  Maybe people just thought, 'She has two kids already, she knows what she's in for!!'

Um, NO!  Here's the reason, my second child SLEPT!  Don't get me wrong, that kid makes me pull my hair out and pushes my buttons like no other, but for the first six months of his life, he was the perfect child...never cried, never spit up, never pooped (no exaggeration, he only pooped every other week), and he slept all the time.  In fact, he slept so much I would repeatedly ask the pediatrician if he was mentally ok.  We travelled all over, and called him our little hotel baby...when he was hungry, I'd feed him, and the rest of the time he slept.  When he finally did wake up between 4 and 6 months, I was excited about it - it meant a chance to finally interact with him.     

Grace on the other hand never actually slept before she decided between 6 and 8 weeks that she no longer need any sleep at all, and is only happy if she is being fed and/or held, something that is impossible to do 24-7 when you only have 1 child, let alone 3.  And mornings are THE WORST.  For instance, it is 11:30 and she has been awake since 6 AM. This is no special circumstance either, she does this EVERY DAY.  We can't get anywhere in the morning without having to listen to her scream.  I have even started putting her in the car and coming back into the house to get all out stuff ready because it is literally impossible to pack up 3 kids and my haggard self for school, church or whatever without forgetting 20 things when you can't hear yourself think due to the infant SCREAMING in the background.

So needless to say, this momma is tapped out.  And while I know at some point I will regret wishing her childhood away, here's me, throwing handfuls of money into fountains, craning my neck for shooting stars and scrambling for any other opportunity to WISH HER CHILDHOOD AWAY.  I can not WAIT until she sleeps, preferably through the night and is done nursing/bottle feeding.  While we're at it, I'd really like her to be potty trained and in school at least 3 days a week.  

Like I said, it's not pretty.

Happiness

Having a little girl has given me a reason to reflect like never before.  I had a happy childhood and an amazing up-bringing, but I have to admit that I struggle every minute of every day with self-doubt.  I am so incredibly blessed, but even in the face of all we have been graced with, I struggle with finding happiness and contentment, and I often wonder if this is an inherently female trait.  At the end of the day, I have found that happiness is a choice, if not a direct side effect of your choices.  Surrounding myself with positive people, especially women, and choosing to focus on what I DO have instead of what I don't, has become more important to me as life marches on.

I want (all my children, but especially) my daughter, to realize that you don't have to be the smartest, or the best looking or the best dressed in the room to be special.  All you have to do to be special is to make other people feel special.  That's all anyone wants...to feel special.  Don't ever deny anyone the opportunity to feel special...as humans, we need it!  Notice something unique about others and let them know that they are special.  If you think of something nice, SAY IT!  So often we keep compliments to ourselves...out of fear of sounding dumb, out of fear of giving the person we compliment power over us, out of FEAR....that's all it is.  March past that fear and spread love and compliments and  encouragement, and what you will find is happiness.  Give people a moment of relief from their own insecurities, and that will give you joy.

So maybe it is selfish of me to encourage my children to be positive, but I'm ok with that.  I want (all my children, but especially) my daughter to chose to see that glass as half-full, because if you do, you will never be in-need of friends...I learned that from your Daddy! That man is the biggest ray of sunshine God ever put on this earth in the form of a man.   Learn from him and not me!  I love you so much and I will try every day to grow into a woman you would describe as 'confident'.  Until then, look to your amazing daddy and know that you are all incredible, and loved, and because of your blessings, God wants you to bless others!!!!  

 

To wait or not to wait.

Waiting to find out if you are having a boy or a girl until the day of delivery is something I think is gaining in popularity.  I feel like technology gave us a big push towards immediate gratification in all aspects of life in the last decade (or 3?), and that trend is slowly ebbing as people realize there is joy in having a to wait for something from time to time.  I think the gender reveal has followed suit...much like forcing yourself to wait until Christmas morning to open a present, there's a lot of fun in the anticipation of a surprise. That being said, I think finding out the gender of your baby early is not always about being patient or impatient.

We found out what we were having at the second trimester ultrasound for our first 2 children.  For the third, we decided to wait until the delivery day.  I don't like saying "we wanted it to be a surprise" because that's not an accurate statement....it's still a surprise, no matter when you find out, instead I'll say, "we wanted to wait for the surprise."  An even more accurate statement would be, "my husband wanted to wait for the surprise."  Don't get me wrong, I was on board.  I was kinda curious if it would make a difference.  I mean, most people I talked to that had waited until the delivery day said it was an amazing experience, so I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.  I also didn't for one second want to be disappointed about the gender of this baby. Also, I knew if I found out we were having a girl with a lot of time to spare before her arrival, I would spend WAY more money than necessary on a nursery and clothes. So we waited for our surprise, and here is my honest-to-God opinion: If you are going to wait for the surprise, do it for the first child or don't do it at all.   

Allow me to elaborate...

First: there is a huge urge to nest when you are pregnant, and when you don't know if you are having a boy or a girl, especially the second or third time around, your nesting capabilities are limited.  You can't purge boy clothes or girl clothes, your preparations are limited, so you find other outlets.  We cleaned out our kitchen cabinets, garage, office and bedrooms.  I mean, all that energy has to go somewhere, and honestly all that stuff needed to get done, but what REALLY needed to get done was shipping off and consigning 5 years of boy clothes and purchasing a few girl clothes.  Stuff that ended up getting done in the wee hours of the morning between feeding sessions because I needed to get it done while Thing 1 and Thing 2 were sleeping and not running through my piles of clothes.

Second: Gender neutral baby items. If you wait to find out the gender of your first child, you end up purchasing and receiving all gender neutral baby items.  This is what we should all do as parents, especially with big ticket items like pack-n-plays and car seats anyway, but we don't. We try to, but who wants to put their little princess in anything other than the pink sparkly bouncy seat?? Anyway, all this gender neutral loot is perfect to reuse for subsequent children regardless of gender.  If you find out the gender early for your first child and not the second or third, there is a good chance your daughter will wear dinosaur pajamas for the first three months of her life.

Third:  Waiting may make it harder for some moms to bond with their baby.  It is a well kept secret that many mothers don't bond right away with their babies.  I know, I know, you're all shocked, but it's the truth, and here's the kicker...for many moms, that amount of time increases with each child.  So if it's possibly going to take longer to fall in love with your second or third child, why give yourself an the added deficit of not knowing what you are having and being able to visualize and mentally prepare for that baby? On the other hand, most parents really do fall in love quite quickly with their first child (because there is nothing else to do other than stare at them 24/7).  Plus you don't know what to expect or have anything to compare it to on your first go-round, so if the bonding process takes slightly longer than average because you waited to find out the gender, you're none-the-wiser.

Forth:  It was somewhat overrated.  This is my personal opinion but one that I know a few other people share.  For many people the surprise is worth the wait, that just wasn't the case for me.  I was going to be surprised no matter when I found out, and frankly finding out anything after 20 hours of hard labor is a little anti-climactic. I know some women say the unknown helps motivate them through the hard moments of labor, but I personally wasn't any more or less motivated that when we did know the gender.

At the end of the day, waiting or not waiting is a deeply personal decision, and there's not a right or wrong answer.  I've just shared my point of view because, I think it's important for people to see that it's not about being patient or impatient, there are pros and cons to waiting.  It's about doing what's right for your family and enjoying the journey! :)

Fast, Good AND Cheap!

Have you heard that saying "Fast, Good, or Cheap; you only get 2"? Well my little project today was all three! That hardly ever happens for me on projects, except this time.
I wanted to keep the cutting boards in my cabinet upright - I was sick of them being stacked, but even though they were a pain to put away and get out, I didn't want to do anything complicated, permanent or expensive.  Enter Pinterest!  Saw a genius idea for using tension rods in cabinets to store baking sheets and decided to give it a try for my cutting board dilemma.
Tension rods were from Amazon, and 4 rods (2 x 2-packs) cost about $22 (free shipping thanks to amazon prime trial).  The whole project took maybe 5 minutes to install (include opening the package and unwrapping them).  The clearance was tight - exactly 11", so they just barely fit, but they were high enough quality that I was able to use some muscle to get them into place without bending them.  Like I said, Fast, Good AND Cheap!!

Christmas Trash

This is the second year we have made Texas Trash (Modified Chex Party Mix) by the bucket load to give to anyone and everyone that we want to say 'Thank You' or 'Merry Christmas' to.  My husband and children can't get enough of it, and I like that it is a salty treat that breaks up the endless stream of cakes, cookies and candy that seem to accompany the holiday season.  

Teachers, choir directors, neighbors, etc, usually get their fair share in a pretty tin (I love the Container Store's selection), and the postman, trash guys and Terminix man get theirs in disposable tupperware containers with ribbon.

I bug my mother-in-law for her recipe every year, which is a modified version of the original recipe.  What's funny is I modify her modified recipe, and after making a dozen of these 'double modified' batches, I figured it was time to write both recipes down.

Here's the recipe my wonderful mother-in-law, Alice, has emailed me at least 3 times.

The Original Chex Party Mix (recipe on the back of Chex cereal boxes)

3 cups Corn Chex cereal

3 cups Rice Chex cereal

3 cups Wheat Chex cereal

1 cup mixed nuts (Alice uses 1 cup lightly salted peanuts plus 1 cup pecan halves)

1 cup bite-size pretzels

1 cup garlic-flavor bagel chips (Alice does not use these)

6 tablespoons butter or margarine

2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce (Alice uses slightly less)

1 ½ teaspoons seasoned salt

¾ teaspoon garlic powder

½ teaspoon onion powder

(Alice melts the butter in a big roasting pan, then add the seasonings.  Mix all the cereals and nuts together and then mix in with the butter and seasonings to coat.  Bake for 1 hour at 250 degrees, stirring every 15 minutes.  Spread on paper towels to cool.  Store in airtight container.)

The recipe says to use a large microwavable bowl and mix the cereals, nuts, pretzels, and bagel chips together; set aside.  In small microwavable bowl, microwave butter uncovered on high about 40 seconds or until melted.  Stir in seasonings.  Pour over cereal mixture, stir until evenly coated.  Microwave uncovered on high 5 to 6 minutes, thoroughly stirring every 2 minutes.  Spread on paper towels to cool.  Store in airtight container.

My mother-in-law's trash is delicious!   We love it, but after some trial and error, decided we liked it amped up a bit (basically our version has more butter and double the seasonings). We also let the kids help a lot which leads to some less-than precise measuring and generous pouring of anywhere from 1/8- 1/4 cup more of each of the first 7 ingredients.  That may be why we were craving more seasoning! 

Christmas Trash

Warning: this tasty treat contains tree nuts, gluten, dairy, and is definitely NOT low in salt or fat. That's what makes it so good!

3 cups Corn Chex cereal 

3 cups Rice Chex cereal

3 cups Wheat Chex cereal

1 cup lightly salted peanuts 

1 cup pecan halves

1 cup bite-size pretzels or pretzel sticks

1 cup garlic-flavor bagel chips 

1 stick (8 Tbs) butter

4 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce

3 teaspoons seasoned salt

1½ teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon onion powder

Melt the butter in a big roasting pan in the oven while it preheats to 250 degrees.  While the oven is preheating and the butter is melting, combine the cereal, nuts, pretzels and bagel chips in a large bowl (I don't even bother to stir them together, just dump them in, and as I mentioned before, we measure generously with heaping cup-fulls of all the cereals, pretzels and nuts).  Once the butter is melted, add the seasonings into the pan and whisk to combine with the melted butter.  I pour the butter and seasoning mix out of the roasting pan and into the large bowl over the cereals.  Then I pour the cereal and seasonings back into the roasting pan.  I find this extra step helps coat everything a little better than just putting the dry ingredients on top of the butter and seasonings and trying to mix it up from the bottom of the pan. Using a large spoon, gently fold everything together to ensure even coating, then bake for 1 hour and 15 minutes at 250 degrees, stirring every 15 minutes.  Spread on paper towels to cool.  This is when everyone sneaks a taste or two :)  Then we box up leftovers in air tight containers.   

Halloween is over, the sugar crash is setting in

Halloween is over, the sugar crash is setting in, and according to the retail industry, we were supposed to start thinking about Christmas yesterday.

I'm not going to disrespect the turkey by putting up Christmas decorations just yet, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to start drafting up the ol' family Christmas letter.

Maybe it's pregnancy hormones or maybe it's just the general state of grumpiness I live in without alcohol, but my husband seemed to think my first letter was too cynical and sarcastic for public circulation. This is my fifth draft. I think it's a winner...Stephen thinks we still have a ways to go.

Dear family and friends,
In keeping with tradition, we have enclosed a family photo that we paid shy of a year's college tuition for. When ever in doubt of our character, kindness, self discipline, generosity, attractiveness or personal hygiene, we hope you will refer to this photo to reassure you that we are happy, calm, smiling, and have it all together, no matter what you may have seen or experienced when dealing with us in person.  Also in keeping with our tradition, here is a brief update on life at the Childress household.  Carter is brilliant, and continues to baffle us by being the smartest child in the world. We aren't 100% out of pull-ups yet, but I know that it is only a side effect of his independent thinking style and genius IQ.  Jack is the world's cutest baby/big boy depending on what mood he's in. Potty training? He wants to be a baby. Playing with knives? Big boy. Fortunately, he's so charming and good looking, we barely even notice we're being blatantly manipulated. Our beloved cat Scratch is seldom/never mentioned in our holiday correspondence because he is an animal, but that didn't change how deeply saddened we were to lose him earlier this year. Luckily he was returned to us by a concerned neighbor.  Stephen is still working at Elite Compression Services so I can stay at home pursuing my passions. They change weekly, but mostly involve parenting. Stephen and I both celebrated the big 3-2 this year, which means we have now legally been driving for more than half our lives. To celebrate we each scored traffic tickets and took defensive driving online. Despite the new technology and lack of stand up comedy, it was a nice trip down memory lane, since none of the material had been updated since 1996.  Certainly the biggest news we have to share is that we will be welcoming a third child into our family in February 2013. We do not know yet if it will be a boy or a girl, but we are positive it will be the most beautiful baby you've ever seen and that we will post an exorbitant number of pictures online, clogging up your Facebook feed and causing you to block if not unfriend us. In closing we'd like to wish everyone a happy holiday/new year and look forward to getting your Christmas cards so we can confirm that we are still friends. With genuine love and affection,  The Childresses

The boys of summer

It was like the movie "Groundhog Day" around here this summer.  Every day the same.  I was dealing with 'morning' sickness that is more like 'debilitating-all-day' sickness for me, and we finally had to get some help in the form of a girl that came in the mornings to watch the boys for about 6 weeks.

So everyday was the same...starting at about 3am, I would get sick.  Crawl back to bed sometime around 5 or 6am take a Zofran and pray for death.  Stephen would wake up with boys at 7am. 8am girl would show up and Stephen would go to work. Noon, Stephen's home for lunch, I take another Zofran.  After lunch, Stephen gets boys down for their 'nap', before heading back to work at 1pm. 2pm, after about an hour of (sometimes) quiet time, I pry myself out of bed, apply swimsuits and sunscreen, and it was out the door for swim lessons.  After lessons, another Zofran for me, a snack for the boys, then I would plug them into a show, curl up on the couch and zone out until Stephen came home then I would retreat to bed as soon as he'd let me.    

On paper, it kinda sounds like a dream come true, in bed til 2, lazing about all the time, but it was honest-to-God, THE hardest summer of my life.  Not being able to take care of my family, even though it was a temporary situation, was surprisingly heart breaking. And even though we were all under the same roof, I really missed them because even when I was awake, it was hard to be present.

Despite being so sick, I managed to take the boys to swimming lessons almost every day.  We had a ton of missed classes because of weather, but squeezed in several make-ups in the last few weeks and I'm so proud of how far they came.

The first day of swimming lessons was horrible...Jack refused to get in the water.  When I threatened to spank him if he didn't cooperate, he flat out said, "I want a spanking." I realized, he wasn't being stubborn, he was just terrified.  And no, I didn't spank him, in case you were wondering.  Carter got in, sort of, but repeatedly told his coach, his classmates, and anyone else that would listen, that he didn't want to die.

The last day of summer lessons was a whole different story. They were like two different kids. Carter was gliding underwater with his pancake hands and kicking really well.  Jack jumped in, kicked around using a kick board, and put his face under water.

Their attitude was what I was most proud of, especially Carter's.  I signed him up for twice as many lessons as Jack and the schedule was nuts.  Mondays and Wednesdays he saw a different teacher than Tuesdays and Thursdays, and to make things crazier, his Monday/Wednesday teacher changed twice over the summer.  Didn't matter, every day I'd go upstairs to let him know it was time for swimming lessons, and he'd ask "which coach is it?" I would tell him, then he'd get on his swimsuit and head for door without another question.  Other than the first day, he walked right up to the water and did his thing with honest enthusiasm and joy. Every day, and I'm not exaggerating, it was incredible.  Jack did really well too.  He's two, so clearly there were a few days when his heart wasn't in it, and it took some cajoling to get him in his swimsuit, in the car, and/or in the water, but for the most part he was very cooperative.

And of course Stephen was amazing this summer.  Incredible. Beyond incredible. In fact, words just can't describe how hard he busted his ass to take care of our family almost completely by himself for close to 2 months.  His relationship with the boys grew so much too - they all became so close this summer, it was incredible to watch.  The three of them were just inseparable...the boys of summer.

I love my boys.  All three of the men in this house are just incredible in their own way.  I always knew it, but this summer just reinforced what a lucky lady I am to be a part of this family.

Made in the USA

We joined some friends to watch the opening ceremonies of the Olympics last night.  They were interesting, right? Theatrical, and not all-together un-entertaining.  Anyway, I made a dessert for the festivities.  I pieced it together from a couple different recipes I found online, and it miraculously came out well!  It was super easy, delicious, and even looked fancy.  Sort of.  My fruit cutting/arranging skills are pretty amateur, so imagine what it could look like if someone with actual culinary skills took this on!

French pastry, English lemon curd, Italian marscapone cheese, Mexican Fruit,  Made in the USA!! 

Red White and Blue Fruit Tart

• 1 package (of 2) puff pasty sheets
• 11 oz jar lemon curd
• 8oz marscapone cheese
• 2 lbs strawberries, rinsed, hulled and quartered lengthwise
• 1 pint blueberries, rinsed and patted dry
• 1/2 cup apricot preserves
• 1 tsp water

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.  Spread thawed puff pasty sheets out side-by-side and press together to create a large rectangle. Fold outside edge in about 1/2 inch to create a 'crust' around the edge.  Poke a lot of holes in the center of the puff pastry.  Bake approx 15 minutes or until golden brown.  Remove to cool.
Mix apricot preserves and water.  Heat the mixture in a small saucepan or the microwave until boiling. Remove from heat.  Brush the center of the pastry crust (where your filling will go) with approximately half of the mixture.  This will create a glaze that helps keep the crust from getting soggy once you add your filling. Save the rest of the mixture.
Mix together lemon curd and marscapone until well blended.  Set aside.
Once the glazed puff pastry is completely cooled, spread the lemon curd and marscapone filling.  Arrange the sliced fruit on top.
Reheat the apricot glaze and brush over the top of the fruit.
Can be served immediately, but for best results, refrigerate for an hour or two before slicing. Makes approx 32 servings.

The great thing about this recipe is you can use whipped cream instead of marscapone, any type of fruit (I just used red and blue in honor of team USA) and any type of preserve (apricot's what the Joy of Cooking said to use, but more importantly, it's what I had on hand). It's SO easy and versatile.  Hope someone out there will try it!

Forever and ever, amen.

Happy 7th anniversary to my amazing husband. I'm looking forward to many many many many more.

Custom Portrait by Nan Lawson 2012 - please credit photo.

Tips for babysitters from a parent.

Parents the world over are desperate to find a good baby sitter, and our expectations are frighteningly low.  We are DESPERATE to get out of our house and socialize with other adults, so desperate we leave our precious children in the hands of naive, and sometimes frighteningly clueless teenage girls.

We have only been in the babysitting game for about three years, but in that short amount of time we've cycled through at least 10 babysitters and seen the good, the bad, and the ugly.  So in an attempt to educate the masses, preach to the choir, or at least get a few "AMEN!"s from my fellow moms, here are a few tips for babysitters.

1.  CALL ME if you have a question, even if it is not an emergency.  If you are not sure if what you are experiencing is worth calling about, CALL ME ANYWAY.  I promise, I do not want to rush home, nor do any of the parents I know, so if we can work it out with you on the phone, we will.  I will not think you are stupid or dumb or irresponsible for calling me.  The only dumb questions are the ones you don't ask.  You probably don't have children of your own, and if you do, you probably don't understand half of what's coming out of my 2 year old's mouth, so I promise to be understanding. 

2.  If it IS an emergency, keep trying to contact me until you reach me, even if it means using the phone number to the actual restaurant that I took the time to look up and leave for you in case of an emergency.  Do not send me a text, and assume if you don't hear back that everything is fine.  In fact, just don't ever send me a text. Ever. Because whatever activity led us to hire a baby sitter has very likely also led us to put our phones on vibrate, and while we will check our phone periodically, we probably don't have it sitting on the table.  So a phone call, which makes our phones vibrate 5-7 times, is superior to a text, which only makes them vibrate once.     

3.  Assume you are going to have to feed my children at some point. Bonus points if you can manage to feed them healthy food.  Also, if you are watching children during a meal time, please feed them that meal. Even though they may act like puppies, children are not animals that only get fed in the morning and at night.  Believe it or not, we feed them all 3 meal AND a morning and afternoon snack.  And if you are not sure of what (or when) to feed the kids, please ask me, not my kids.  

4. Spending more than 5 minutes with children means a mess will be made.  Please do your best to clean up this mess, particularly when spilled liquid is involved.    

5.  Only let children watch age appropriate material.  If you are unsure of what age appropriate is, please ask me, not my kids.  Or better yet, PLAY with the kids and don't turn the TV on at all.  

6.  Assume if you are watching young children past 8 or 9pm, that you will need to put them to bed.
Please put them in pj's and clean diapers before bed. If you are not sure of what else a bed time routine entails, please ask me, not the kids.   

7.  Do not let the children play with finger nail polish, finger nail polish remover, make up, sharp objects, food coloring, paint, markers, or anything else that will stain their clothes, mark the carpet, ruin my furniture, or cause them bodily harm. If you are not sure of what is ok to play with, and the GIANT playroom isn't providing you with any inspiration, please ask me, not the kids.

8.  I know that you raid the pantry and watch TV.  It's one of the perks of babysitting.  Just please do it after the kids are asleep.  I don't care if you eat my M&M's or watch South Park, but I kinda care if they do.

9.  Please do not ask to be my friend on facebook or twitter.  I'm not your friend, I'm your boss.  It doesn't mean that I don't like you, I promise.  It just means I'm trying to maintain an image of responsibility and the images of me on facebook may or may not always support that.

10.  Bring a note card with your name, address, phone number, age, parents' name(s) and contact info as well as an emergency contact (if not your parents).  Nope, I'm not kidding.  You'd be amazed how many babysitters give me strange "are-you-stalking-me?" looks when I ask for this basic info.  To all of those girls, I say the following: Seems crazy, I know, that you would need to provide all this info to your employer, but your employers will ALWAYS need this info, whether it's a job at McDonald's, Apple Computers, or my house.  See, your employer is responsible for your whereabouts, so while you are babysitting my kids, I'm pretty much babysitting you.   

11.  Know what you charge.  If you are not sure, do some googling because you will probably be asked at some point, and it is in your best interest to have an answer.  We pay our sitter $10/hour for 2 kids because that's what other parents told us to pay (not one sitter we ever asked had an answer).  But here's the thing, if our current sitter asked for $12/hour, we'd totally pay it.  Heck, we'd probably paid upwards of $20/hour we love her so much.  As it is, she never gave us a quote, so we keep it at the current rate.  Admittedly, we usually round up to the nearest multiple of $20, because we're almost always stopping by the ATM on our way home to pay her.  

12.  Babysitting is not a fluff job.  Our children mean more to us than you will ever know, more to us that anything you could possibly imagine, and taking care of them is a HUGE responsibility. After my first child was born, I immediately felt this intense sense of guilt over how lightly I took my baby sitting jobs.  Don't misunderstand me, I was not a bad babysitter, in fact, I was a pretty darn awesome baby sitter, but I had no idea how HUGE of a responsibility it was, until I had a child of my own.  So whatever you do, please please PLEASE keep my children safe.      

I know as parents, we are not always the easiest employers, but a good baby sitter is worth her weight in gold.  If you can manage the above items, I promise you'll never want for babysitting gigs...you'll be fought over and your name will passed around and whispered reverently between moms the world over.   

Stay tuned...this post most definitely deserves a counter-part entitled "Tips for parents from a babysitter" because I know from experience, for every clueless babysitter, there are probably ten clueless parents.

Toe up.

About a year and a half ago, while I was training for my first half marathon, I broke my toe. We had just moved in to the new house and Jack was choking on something, so I rushed over to help him, kicking a moving box in the process.  Stephen was out of town, so I took some Advil and tried to forget about it.  I managed to get the kids to school the next day, but knew it was bad.  I couldn't get my foot into a regular shoe and was wearing rain boots. Plus my toe was huge...it looked more like a thumb than a toe.  Doc confirmed it was a hairline fracture on my 4th toe.

I was supposed to wear a special shoe the doc gave me, but it was so ugly I walked around in flip flops or barefoot, and ended up whacking the same toe on an end table a week later.  Still, I thought it was no big deal. It was just a toe. I was supposed to be taking a break from running while my toe healed, but that was really interfering with my training.  So the day after Thanksgiving I gave myself permission to return to running.  Because of the chilly temperature, I couldn't really feel my toe, or my feet at all, and ended up running about 8 miles because I felt so good.  When my feet thawed out, I knew I had done something bad...but still thought it was no big deal.  It was just a toe.

Then when Carter ran over my flip-flop clad foot with his little wooden lawn mower and I heard a big 'pop' and ended up on the floor writhing in pain, I figured it might be time to call the doctor again.

This time, the doctor I saw wasn't quite as laid back about things.  He looked me in the eye, and said, 'well, it might have started out as a hairline fracture, but you have managed to really screw it up...it's a displaced spiral fracture.  I am considering surgery.  I'm giving you a boot and if you don't stay off your feet, wear your shoe and let yourself heal, I'm going to surgically stabilize your toe and then put you in a cast.'

WHAT?!  Surgery?  Casts??  I thought it was just a stupid toe!  What really sucked was I had to completely stop running for 8 weeks.  No half marathon for me.  Had I followed the doctor's advice the first time around and let my little hairline fracture heal, I could have kept my cardio up on an elliptical or stationary bike for a few weeks, then gotten right back into training.  As things were, I'd lost 4 weeks nursing repeated injuries and now was going to lose another 8. I was devastated, but had no other choice. Even now, my toe will ache when it rains or is really humid because the bones don't really line up anymore.

(Note: I finally got back into training in April of last year, and completed a 15 k, 2 half marathons, a 30k and then a marathon in January.  It was awesome.  I should do a post on all that.)

So the timing isn't terrible, I'm not in the middle of training for anything, but I broke another toe this week hitting it on the leg of the couch.  Unlike the last break, I knew right away it was royally screwed up because it looked like this:

I spared you an actual picture (you are welcome)  because, as innocuous as the drawing looks, the actual picture just looked wrong...cringe-worthy and really REALLY wrong.  In fact, it looked so bad, I ended up letting Stephen take me to the ER (even though it's just a stupid toe) because I didn't know if I could buddy tape it while it was pointing in the wrong direction.  In case you are curious, the ER had a very scientific and medical way of handling it.  They X-rayed it, and then just pulled it back into place (I almost threw up) and then buddy taped it.  So, for all of you taking notes at home, save yourself the $100 ER co-pay and just tape your toe back into place until you can see someone during normal business hours.

At the foot doctor yesterday, I got some interesting questions...I think they are convinced I smash my toes on purpose considering the frequency in which I show up with "displaced spiral fractures".  You think I'm kidding, but they really didn't seem to believe I just hit the couch.

So, I'm back in a boot for 3 weeks.  No running, no jumping, no bare feet and no flip-flops.  And believe me, I will be following doctors orders this time around.  He was the first to say the boot is over-kill, but like I said, I think he's convinced I go around bashing my feet on things.  Anyway, the sooner I can heal, the better, because I've been recently toying with the idea of another marathon. In the mean time, I'll be sporting this very sexy look.

At least it's still cool enough to get away with jeans...which means it's in the 80's.  We're in south Texas remember?

Cabinet and Hutch need a good home

I've got a big piece of dining room furniture (cabinet + hutch) that needs a good home.  I love this cabinet...I bought it thinking it would be perfect in a breakfast room with my grandmothers dining table that we refinished and painted black.  It's a work horse too...storage galore.  It's safely stored ALL of my wedding china, crystal and flatware for the past four years, with space to spare.  Unfortunately we just don't have a good place for it in this house.  We're using the dining room as a study, and while we do need some storage in there, this piece is just too big for that room.  You can see, we can't even get the doors open right now. So, as hard as it is to get rid of it, I can't hang on to a giant piece of furniture in anticipation of having room for it in some future house.

It's got a really interesting, concave front to it, and it's a little on the traditional/country side right now, with the two-tone finish, but with new hardware and a coat of paint it and it could go with just about any decor.

I have no idea what to ask for it, so I'm pretty much just selling it fbo, preferably to a family member or friend so that if/when the time comes that you don't want it anymore you give us a call and let us make you an offer before you sell/donate/toss it.

The deets:
57" wide
88" tall (cabinet 36"; hutch 52")
Bottom Cabinet is 16.5" deep, Hutch is 13" deep

Give me a shout if you are interested!

Cake balls

Tis the season for sweets, and I recently tried my hand at cake balls for a holiday party (also known as cake pops if you add a stick).  I don't think I would have ever attempted them had I known what I was getting myself into (I am not a baker.  not even a little bit), but after a little a lot of trial and error, I think I've gotten the hang of it well enough to do it again with out quite so many tears.

So, in case you were interested in trying your hand at a little balling this holiday season, here's the cake ball recipe I used with tips/tricks I've thrown in for the baking-challenged.

1 box cake mix (including oil, water, eggs, and anything else necessary to make the cake)

1 jar frosting

1 package bark (candy coating that I found hiding out by the chocolate chips on the baking isle)

• Mix up the cake mix and bake according to package directions.
• While the cake is still hot (or at least warm), dump it back into the mixer, and turn it on 'low' (essentially destroying the cake you just baked).
• Spoon anywhere from half a jar of frosting to a whole jar depending on how 'cakey' you like your balls (I used about 2/3 - 3/4 of a jar).  
• Let the mixer go until your cake/frosting mix is the consistency of crumbly play-doh (you should see a big ball of dough forming at this point in the bowl).
• Turn the mixer off, form the dough into a big ball (any residual dough on the outside of the bowl will be hard to work with and essentially wasted if you don't scrape it off and let it join the big party ball happening in the middle).  
• Cover and chill (I popped it in the freezer for an hour, and that seemed to work fine, but if ice crystals freak you out, try the fridge for a few hours)
• Using a melon baller or a 2Tbs cookie scoop, make all your dough balls.  I used the cookie scoop to get a consistent sized ball, but would also hand roll each ball to get a nice shape.
• You want to work pretty quickly because I found the dough harder to work with as it warmed up.  If things get too impossible, toss it back in the fridge or freezer for a while and then return to balling.
• Once all your dough is balled, freeze the balls over night (4 hours minimum).  I put all my balls into a big tupperware container and separated the layers with wax paper since I don't have room for a cookie sheet in my freezer.

The next part was my biggest challenge since I'd never worked with candy coating before, and you may have your own method, but after ruining TWO entire batches of bark and at least a half dozen cake balls, this is what worked best for me.

• Working with a half of a package at a time, I would heat the candy coating in a small sauce pan over low heat until melted, then turn the heat off but leave the pot on the warm burner.
• One dough ball at a time, I'd plop it into the melted bark then use a silicon spatula to spoon the coating over the top two or three times until the ball was completely coated.
• I used a plastic fork, that I broke the middle two tines off of, to scoop the ball out and move it over to a sheet of wax paper to dry.
• To get the wet coated ball off the fork with minimal damage, I would set the ball and fork down on the wax paper, place my finger behind the ball (where the tines were broken off), then pull the fork back, while my finger held the ball in place on the wax paper.  That probably makes no sense, but seeing as I'm the only one that will read this, I'll hold off on the youtube video for now and just let you use your imagination.
• I had a bunch of bark left over, so I drizzled it on top for decoration, and to help hide how lopsided and unevenly coated a few of the balls were.
• All done with beautiful cake balls that looked a LITTLE like this....

 and this...

(images courtesy of bakerella and the cereal baker)

The combinations are pretty endless with cake mix, frosting and bark, but here are the ones I made:

Lemon: Duncan hines lemon supreme mix, lemon supreme frosting, white bark

Red Velvet: Duncan hines red velvet mix, creme cheese frosting, chocolate bark

And the ones I want to try next...

Carrot Cake: Carrot cake, creme cheese frosting, white bark

German Chocolate: German chocolate cake, coconut pecan frosting, chocolate bark

I have a mom-friend who bakes professionally and her cake ball combinations are insane...french toast with bacon (yes bacon!), churro, candy cane red velvet, margarita, strawberry lime, mexican chocolate and bacardi coconut to name a few.  Yea....I'll stick with my beginner combos for now, but if you live in the Houston area and want to try the real thing, you can check out Word of Mouth cakes in Spring, TX.