Author Archives: bubbasbabbles



For awhile now I’ve been trying to cut processed sugar out of my diet.  It was really eye opening when I started looking for sugar and found it in places I never would have thought of.  Things like canned tomatoes, canned chick peas, chicken broth, taco seasoning, etc.  I realized quickly that if I still wanted to enjoy certain foods I was going to have to make them at home.  I have come up with a few recipes that I like and use often and I am frequently trying to come up with refined sugar free substitutes for some of our favorite foods.  The only problem is that most of my recipes look like this…


My chicken scratch on scratch paper that Baby B wrote on with a pencil.  So, I decided I needed a better place to keep them and I might as well share them with you.  Today the lucky winner is Taco seasoning.  I used to buy the big jar of McCormick from Costco but alas, it has sugar in it.  I’ve tried several recipes that I found online but none of them tasted like what we were used to.  So, I made up my own using the list of ingredients on the McCormick bottle.  I think it tastes pretty similar and will most likely be the only thing I use now.

DSC_1420colorTaco Seasoning

1 Tbl chili powder

1 teas cumin

1 teas onion powder

1 teas garlic salt

3/4 teas paprika

1/2 teas oregano

Mix it all together and use it how you use any other taco seasoning.  I actually kept my empty McCormick jar and tripled this recipe then mixed it all up in the jar.  It is so easy and almost as quick as buying taco seasoning from the store.

Beginning’s Cont.


I read the First Presidency Message in the Ensign today.  It is from Pres. Uchtdorf and is on planning and goal setting.  Part of what he said is exactly what I was trying to say in my last post, he just said it so much better.  He said:

Another thing we need to remember when it comes to setting goals is this: We almost certainly will fail—at least in the short term. But rather than be discouraged, we can be empowered because this understanding removes the pressure of being perfect right now. It acknowledges from the beginning that at one time or another, we may fall short. Knowing this up front takes away much of the surprise and discouragement of failure.

When we approach our goals this way, failure doesn’t have to limit us. Remember, even if we fail to reach our ultimate, desired destination right away, we will have made progress along the road that will lead to it.

And that matters—it means a lot.

Even though we might fall short of our finish line, just continuing the journey will make us greater than we were before.

I love it.




It’s that time.

The new year.

A time when we feel like we can start over, become better, or try again.

I’m no different.  I have my same goals.  This is the year that I will simplify and organize my house.  The fact that it’s been one of my resolutions for years doesn’t matter.  No, this is definitely the year that I’m going to make it happen.

It is also the year that I am going to train for and complete a triathlon, study my scriptures better, write more, get our finances in order, eat healthier and plan ahead.  All while trying to maintain a home and raise a family.  Should be a piece of cake.  (Right?)

My husband likes to make fun of “New Year’s Resolutions.”  It’s quite easy to do.  I mean, how many of us actually follow through.  When I used to go to the gym regularly I hated January.  There were always so many people there, using the machines I was used to having all to myself.  But, I just had to wait it out.  By February I usually had my pick of almost anything in the place again.

It’s not only the fact that people rarely follow through on their resolutions that he makes fun of.  It’s also the fact that everyone does it right now.  What is so special about a new year he says?  Can’t you set goals and resolve to be better on September 6th as easily as on January 1?

For me the new year is like a breath of fresh air.  November and December are busy.  If the major holidays weren’t enough we also have 4 of the 6 birthdays in our family between Nov. 25 and Dec. 25.  I feel like I haven’t stopped in months.  But now that is all behind us.  I can slow down, take some time to plan and try to see what areas need more attention.  I can set some goals.

And like I already mentioned, most of my goals are repeats from the last new year.  Things I’ve already resolved to fix several times but have fallen short.  That isn’t a good reason for me to not set the same goal this year.  That is exactly the reason why I am resolving to do it again.  I’m pretty darn sure by next Christmas my house isn’t going to look like I’d love it to look, my waistline won’t be as small as I’d like it to be, I’ll still suck at budgeting, and even if I have completed another triathlon I will most likely be back to not taking the time to exercise every day.  I don’t see all of that as a reason not to try.

I’m not looking for perfection in my resolutions.  I’m looking for progress.  If I can set the same goal year after year and never fully achieve it but see progress along the way then that is good enough for me.  I doubt I will ever get to perfection but as long as I’m progressing I will always be getting closer.


(p.s. My husband sets yearly goals every January like the rest of us.)

My House


Photo credit

I am not a very clean or organized person.  I’m also not much of a decorator.  All of these things are very apparent as soon as you walk in my front door.  Parts of my house would be more at home on an episode of Hoarders than in a design magazine. None of my dishes match, there is nothing on the walls in my living room, and there may at any time be a pair of dirty underwear on the bathroom floor.  Usually none of that bothers me much (except the dirty underwear) until we have company.

When I know people are going to be coming over and venturing out of the main areas of my home I start to notice all that I “should” be doing, areas that aren’t as clean as I would like them to be, projects that haven’t been finished, projects that haven’t even been started, etc.

Last weekend my niece and three of her friends came into town and stayed in our guest room.  They are all in college and were the nicest girls.  Of course the whole time they were here I was noticing all that bothers me in my house.  I was embarrassed about the Halloween decoration/costume boxes that were still in the downstairs hall.  I also commented on the fact that none of the bedding in the room matched.  Luckily I was able to make the beds with sheets that didn’t have Lightening McQueen on them but it wasn’t easy.

Opening my house up to guests is a very vulnerable thing for me.  I feel like so many of my weaknesses are apparent to anyone who walks through my house.  It always makes me worry about what they will think of me when they see the layer of dust on the shelves downstairs or the disaster of a storage room.

On Sunday I came home from church a few minutes early and my niece and her friends were getting ready to leave.  When I got home I went right into Baby B’s room and put her down for a nap.  As I was sitting in the rocking chair rocking her I heard one of my nieces friends say, “I love this house.  It’s so cute.”  I don’t think she knew I was home and I know she didn’t mean for me to hear her but it totally made my day.

I’ve been thinking about this subject lately and realized that the way my house looks doesn’t really matter to me.  If it did I would put more time and effort into making it look different.  When I have people into my home I don’t need them to be impressed by what my home is I want them to notice how my home feels.  I want them to feel loved and accepted and welcome.  I want them to know that I care about them and for them to feel comfortable.

That doesn’t mean that I’m giving up cleaning, although I definitely wouldn’t mind.  As a matter of fact, I’ve been working all day to clean up parts of my house because we are having people over this weekend.  Knowing guests are coming is one of the best motivators for me to do things that I’ve been wanting to do for a long time.  This time when the party starts, whatever isn’t done I’m not going to worry about.  I’ve had people over enough to know that it will definitely be messier when they leave than it was when they came.  I hope that I can forget about the mess and the projects and just enjoy the company because I’m pretty sure they are coming over to spend time with me and my family, not to check out the cleanliness of my floors.


Cascade Springs



Last week we brought the kids to Cascade Springs.  I had been wanting to get out and see some of the fall colors and this is one of my favorite places to do it.  We happened to have a day with everyone home and nothing planned which doesn’t happen too often.  It was cold and rainy that day and we almost didn’t go.  As much as I wanted to see the mountains at this time of year, a day at home with nothing to do was also very tempting.

As we were there, walking on the boardwalk through the marshy water, I was so glad we had come.  It was such a simple thing, easy to pull off.  It’s not a long drive from our house and since it was a weekday there were very few people out with us.  It is also a great place for kids.  The entire path is paved or boardwalk.  They can run and play and enjoy themselves.

PicMonkey CollageI spent my time there reminiscing on all of the memories that that place holds for me.  The first time I remember going there was when I was in high school.  My friends mom had a Jeep Wrangler and one summer Sunday we took the top off of it and drove it up to Cascade Springs.  We had such a good time that it we did it again soon after.

Another memorable visit was when my husband was deployed.  It was fall again and my sister and I brought my boys up there.  I remember all the places that we took pictures of them, trying to get a good one in front of the leaves to send to daddy.

PicMonkey Collage2The last time we went was two years ago.  We shared the springs with a mamma moose and her baby.  It doesn’t seem like that long ago to me but when I look at how little the boys look it makes me see how fast time flies.

I’m sure there are other times I visited this place, they just aren’t as memorable.  I love having a place that is familiar.  A place that holds memories, that has seen me in the many different stages of my life.  A place where you can go and reminisce and remember how good life is.

I never realized Cascade Springs was such a place for me until now.

Less Than the Dust


I had a very humbling experience today.

This week is homecoming week at BYU and part of today’s festivities was a free pancake breakfast.  Never one to pass up free food that I don’t have to make, I loaded up the kids and we went.  While we were waiting in line for our blue pancakes I noticed a couple with a little baby in front of us.  The dad had the baby in a baby carrier on his chest.  It was quite a chilly morning, in the low 40′s, and the poor baby wasn’t covered up very much.  No hat and a bare leg and foot sticking out the bottom of the carrier.

I’m not sure what my exact thought was when I noticed the baby but I know it wasn’t complimentary to those involved.  I was very judgmental about how these parents could have their little baby out in the cold like that.  Of course I was a good mom because my baby had two layers of clothes on, the outer layer a one piece sweater with a hood (that her dad affectionately calls her Thneed).  I also had a blanket over her and a snowsuit in the car in case she got cold.  Seeing the difference in the way the two babies were dressed sure made me feel good about myself.

I spent a few minutes with thoughts like these going through my head when all of the sudden the thought to offer them my blanket replaced them all.  Of course I doubted myself.  I didn’t want to make them feel bad and didn’t want them to think I was judging them.  Funny, since I was.  Although once the thought to share the blanket came the judgmental ones left.  I really, truly wanted to help.  I’m not a social person and don’t like to talk to people that I don’t know so it wasn’t easy for me but I went up to the dad and asked him if he would like to borrow my blanket.  My baby was fine and theirs needed the blanket much more.  The dad accepted the blanket and as he wrapped it around his baby I asked how old she was.  He told me she was about 2 months.

2 months.

It was the only child they had with them so I can only assume that it was their first baby.  They had been parents for 2 months.  They probably have no clue what they’re doing.  I know I didn’t when I was in their position.  I doubt they’ve slept much either.  They definitely don’t need my petty judgements so that I can feel better about myself.  They need to be surrounded by people who help them, love them and try to lift them up.  Like we all do, no matter what our situation is.

This experience has had me thinking all day.  Why is it so easy to notice the mistakes others make and use them to try an build ourselves up?  There have been plenty of times that I have had cold kids because I wasn’t prepared like I should have been.  It doesn’t make me any less of a person.  And the fact that I was prepared today doesn’t make me a better mom.  More experienced?   Probably.  But better?  Certainly not.

All of this reminds me of a quote in one of my favorite talks by Elder Holland.  He says:

We are not diminished when someone else is added upon. We are not in a race against each other to see who is the wealthiest or the most talented or the most beautiful or even the most blessed. The race we are really in is the race against sin.

This life isn’t a contest to see who dressed their baby correctly for the weather.  If that was the issue here, I think I had a slight advantage since I’ve been a mother for 9+ years compared to their 2 months.  The real issue is the race against sin and I definitely sinned.  I was full of pride.  If I hadn’t given that baby my blanket to use, it would have survived.  It had two parents that had coats that they could have used or other ways to keep it warm.  Or it might have been pretty cold for a half hour.  But if I hadn’t been reminded gently by a loving Heavenly Father to see if there is a way to help those around me instead of judging them I would still be filled with pride which is a whole lot worse than having a cold baby for a few minutes.

Even though it is hard to have a weakness so apparent to me I am grateful for the experience.  I am glad to have humility forced upon me and I hope that the next time I can quickly offer the blanket instead of letting a baby freeze for 10 minutes while I get my act together.

Back to School



The big boys went back to school last week.  I admit that this is the first year that I have actually been glad that school was starting.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my boys and love when they’re home but lately there is just so much fighting.  It is exhausting.  I know it’s really my fault because I don’t manage the fighting well which allows them to continue.  So I am glad for a break during the day so that I can think about things and try to regroup.  Plus, it’s really nice to only have to haul two kids everywhere.  I think I got more done today than I could in a week with all the kids home.

This back to school year I definitely learned some lessons.  The biggest one is don’t wait until after the first day of school to get your kids school supplies.  In true Heather style I procrastinated the school shopping trip until the last two days before school started.  In my defense, I was waiting on the supply lists that we would get on Back to School night.  Then when I went to Target I forgot the lists.  And it was packed.  See, I can usually handle having all four kids at the store and I can usually handle shopping a crowded store but when you put the two together I just can’t do it.  And since I knew I would forget to buy at least half of what was on their list I let Big Boy choose a backpack and I figured I would get the rest later.

On the first day I brought the boys to school and planned on walking them into their classes.  Big Boy is starting 4th grade this year and I asked him before we left home if he wanted me to bring him to his class.  I didn’t want to embarrass him if he didn’t want me there.  I guess I’m not too embarrassing yet because he did want me to walk him to his room.

Medium Boy is starting first grade and his first year in the French immersion program that our school offers.  Not only is he having to get used to being at school for the whole day, his whole morning is spent in a class where the teacher only speaks a language that he doesn’t understand.  It can be hard and I knew he was a little nervous.  I thought for sure he would want me to bring him to his classroom to help him get settled.  He still hasn’t caught on to the fact that mom’s can be embarrassing.  But on our way into the school he told me that I didn’t need to bring him, he wanted to go by himself.  So, I told him he could and I would come check on him after I brought Big Boy to his class.


I let Medium Boy go alone.  I stopped down the hall to try and watch him but he got lost in the sea of kids.  So I just brought Big Boy to his room.  The first thing his French teacher asked him is if he had crayons.  He said no.  After a minute of hesitation he went into his class and I went to check on Medium Boy.  When I walked into his classroom he was sitting at his desk with a picture on his desk that he was supposed to be coloring.  When I walked up to him his eyes were red, on the verge of tears.  He looked at me and said “I don’t have any crayons.”  I could see the nerves on his face  and my heart broke.

Next year I’m buying school supplies in July.

Mother’s Day



Mother’s Day.

I’ve never been a big fan.

Yesterday was the best Mother’s Day I’ve had.

I woke up earlier than I would have liked to, made breakfast for my family, and got children ready for church.

We got to church later than usual and there was a missionary speaking which meant that all of the benches up front were taken.  We had to sit in the back on the chairs which is so much harder and louder with kids.

For half of the meeting I had to handle all of the kids alone.

When we got home from church I let my husband take a nap for a few hours while I cleaned up the kitchen, made a cake and prepared for his family to come over for dinner.

Then we had several people over for dinner which I got to clean up after putting kids to bed late.

Sounds great right?

The thing is, it was.

I have been pondering lately the idea of making your own happiness, that your life is what you make it.  You can be happy no matter what your circumstances.  I’ve thought about it a lot but have struggled to implement the idea into my daily life.  It’s kind of bothered me too because my life isn’t that hard right now.  I have read stories of people who are going through really hard things and they are able to choose to be happy in spite of it all.  My life is what I’ve always wanted it to be but still I struggle to feel happy most of the time.

As I was stirring scrambled eggs first thing in the morning I thought about the fact that I was making my own breakfast on Mother’s Day.  No breakfast in bed for me even though my 6 year old had told me a few days earlier that I had to stay in bed late so that they could make me breakfast.  I continued to butter toast and stir the orange juice and I decided that it was okay to make my own breakfast and it was going to be a good day.

I chose to be happy.

And I was.

I knew that my husband was downstairs, preparing both a lesson for the 8 year old Primary class and a talk for sacrament meeting.   I was happy to be able to make breakfast so that he had the time he needed.

My husband also sat with us for the first half of Sacrament Meeting.  Instead of sitting on the stand the whole time and letting me have the kids the whole meeting by myself he stayed with us as long as he could.  I got to hear him give an excellent talk on his life and motherhood.  I got a new respect for his mother and the way she raised her family and the things she has endured.

When we got home from church I got to let him sleep.  He has been working so hard to put a sprinkler system and lawn in for us and in the process aggravated a shoulder injury.  The pain is worse than it’s been in years and I could tell that he wasn’t doing well.  I was glad that he had some time to rest.

I was able to have much more patience with my children.  I kept my cool when one of them yelled at me and was able to send him to his room without any emotion from me.  I was empathetic when the children were hurt either physically or emotionally.

I got to spend time with my in-laws and watch my children play with their cousins.  I got to see my sister-in-law enjoying her first Mother’s Day with her 3 month old little girl after struggling through them for years because of the emotions involved with the placement of her son for adoption when she was 16.

As we were going to bed my husband told me he was sorry that I had to do so much work on Mother’s Day.  I told him that I wasn’t because what better way to spend Mother’s Day than happily mothering.



021 We decided to celebrate President’s Day this year by going snowshoeing.  I learned and relearned a few things on this adventure.

First, I love that we live so close to the mountains.  The location of our house is really the reason we bought it.  We clocked our drive up and it was 14 miles from our house to where we started our hike.  It took about 15 minutes.

Second, it takes a lot longer than 15 minutes to get four kids ready to go snowshoeing.

Third, it is okay that it took us longer to get ready to go snowshoeing than we actually snowshoed.  Minor detail.  I had to remind myself that we do this kind of thing so that the kids will grow up to love the outdoors as much as we do and have some new experiences.

051Fourth, K is too big for the kid carrier back pack.  I guess another pair of snowshoes is in order.

Fifth, the weight limit on snowshoes matters.  This was easy to figure out after the fifth time I sunk into the snow up to my thigh.  It really isn’t easy to get out of snow that deep when you are wearing snowshoes (especially when they get stuck on a buried tree) on your feet and a baby on your chest.

Sixth, snowshoeing can be quite the workout.


Seventh, E is going to be quite the outdoors man.  He is our hiker, fisher, snowshoer, rock climber, etc.  Every time we go on an outdoor adventure he jumps right in, rarely complains that he’s tired and enjoys it all.

Eighth, put the baby into the Moby Wrap after you get your snowshoes on or your husband will have to put the shoes on for you and you will feel like you’re pregnant again.

Finally, I’m pretty sure I’m crazy enough to do it all over again.

But not until next year.



057 - Copy

This little beauty entered our family a few weeks ago and boy was I surprised.

I was about 98% sure we were having another boy.  There was no reason to think otherwise.  After 3 boys, that is just what we did, we had boys.  That is what I knew and expected.  This pregnancy wasn’t any different than the rest.  I wasn’t any sicker, I didn’t break out, etc.  So there was no reason for me to believe that the outcome would be any different than the rest of them.

According to the ancient Chinese conception calendar it was a boy.  Even my uncle’s wooden pigeon feather that he uses to tell the gender of rolling pigeons eggs said it was a boy.   Who am I to go against the voodoo pigeon feather?

Any of the old wives tales that I did all said it was a boy.  They were wrong.

I looked through a name book while I was pregnant.  I got all the way through the boy section.  When I tried to look at the girl names it just felt off.  I wasn’t interested so I stopped.  I think I made it through the B’s before I figured it was a waste of my time.

I planned on buying a boy outfit and a girl outfit and making a boy blanket and girl blanket to bring to the hospital so we would have something to bring the baby home in.  I went to Target and chose a girl outfit that I liked okay.  It wasn’t the cutest thing I’ve ever seen but it was fine.  And I was pretty sure I would be returning it anyway.  I couldn’t decide on a boy outfit.  I ended up coming home with two because neither was perfect and I just couldn’t decide between them.  I figured I’d return the one we didn’t use.  I returned them both.

I went to the fabric store to get some fabric for a girl blanket.   I ended up coming home with fabric for a boy blanket even though I already had some at home that I had planned to use.  Even though there is only about 3/4′s of a row of boy fabric and 3 rows of girl fabric I couldn’t find any girl fabric that I loved.  In the end I bought some outdoor/camping theme fabric that had pink and purple in it.  Not real feminine.

I made the boy blanket first.  I spend some time on it and quilted it with special stitches.  It turned out well and I was happy with it.  I barely finished the girl one.  I had decided not to finish it but when I didn’t have the baby on 12-12-12 like I wanted to I figured I had some more time to work on it and I might as well finish what I started.   At least then it would be ready to give to whomever I knew that had a girl next.

And then we were at the hospital.  Fourteen minutes after we got there she was born.  My midwife knew we didn’t know the gender and let my husband made the announcement.

It was a girl.

When I looked down to check for myself the umbilical cord was between her legs.  I wasn’t sure that there wasn’t a penis there.  I had to change her diaper later just to see for myself.

Over the next two days we were in the hospital, I caught myself thinking how weird it was when the nurses said “her” or “she” when referring to my baby.  I still find myself, weeks later, sometimes thinking “him” when thinking about her, especially in the middle of the night.

This baby girl will definitely change things around here.  We have pink in our house and will have to get some new toys.  I can no longer say “the boys” or “my boys” when I’m referring to my kids anymore.  And I am learning how to tie those little ribbon bows.  But I know that is how it is supposed to be.

One night shortly after we got home from the hospital I went into each of the kids rooms and watched them sleep.  While in one of their rooms I felt an overwhelming sense of peace.  This is our family.  I don’t know if that means that we won’t have any more kids but it doesn’t matter to me.  For the first time I am content with us just the way we are.