You've got to try these.

Okay, so a group of my friends here get together every month and share a themed recipe. This month was pumpkin. My mind naturally goes to sweet things, like these Whoopie Pies that my friend made:















I thought about pumpkin bread and pumpkin rolls, pumpkin pie and pumpkin cheesecake. But I wanted to try something new.  Different.

So I found this recipe for Pumpkin Chili.


















I wasn't sure how it was going to taste. Let me tell you, it was so good. Rich with flavor....not too much pumpkin taste, just enough. Definitely will become a yearly thing. Maybe our Halloween night traditional meal.

What about you? Any good pumpkin/Autumn recipes?

Joining Jen Matlock's ABC/Autumn Thursday.

So I Married a Deaf Man: Now that's just rude!

There are two things you should never call Hubs. Okay, so there are probably more than two things you shouldn't call him. But for the sake of this post we are going to say there are only two:

Deaf and Dumb
Deaf Mute

Besides the names being rude...and they are that...it is totally and completely not true.

The Deaf part is spot on. He can't hear. Not a thing. In the dictionary, there is a picture of Hubs right next to the word DEAF. Or at least there should be. He is definitely Deaf.

 Dumb? Mute? Not at all.

The definition of dumb:
   1. Lacking the human power of speech.
   2. Lacking intelligence.

The definition of mute:
  1. unable to speak.
  2. remaining silent, undiscovered, unrecognized.

You see, Hubs absolutely has the human power and ability to speak. He is not lacking in intelligence. Hello! He married me. Smart guy. And rarely does he remain silent, undiscovered and unrecognized.

If you were a fly on the wall in our house...not that we have those, especially not the kind who like to mate in front of our observant children, no we don't have those. Again, if you were an undistracted fly on our wall, you would know that Hubs speaks. A lot. 

He doesn't speak sentences, rather names, sounds, orders...to the children of course. He doesn't always know the volume level at which he speaks. Especially when it is 5:30 in the morning and all the kids are asleep. Yeah, then.

Other times, he simply chooses not to speak. Mostly because he isn't comfortable using his voice around other people. You see, he can't hear his own voice. At all. When he was younger and he did use his voice, people laughed at him. That was the end of using his voice in public.

That being said, if Hubs feels comfortable around you, accepted, loved unconditionally...in a totally platonic way... you will hear his voice from time to time. 

The un-muted Hubs.

Can I have some suction please!

Who hates going to the dentist's office raise your hand! (I am raising both and and feet...and typing at the same time. Yes, I am talented.)

There are so many reasons to hate that place. The smell alone makes me sick to my stomach. Plus it sticks to you...just like bacon. Two hours after leaving I can still smell dentist on my hair. Ugh!

There is the biting of cardboard that is designed to either gag you repeatedly or penetrate your gums bringing tears to your eyes.

There is yuck-on a stick they call "topical." Even just the smell of Pina Colada makes my mouth go salty.

Then the needle, which isn't as bad as the crap coming out of the needle. Couldn't they invent some cinnamon flavored numbing agent? Or what about that suction thing. Isn't that what it's there for...to remove unwanted, undesirable stuff from my mouth.

The sound of the drill. Dry mouth. The purple bib. The pushing and pulling in my mouth. The list of unlikeable things is almost endless.

Camden, my 4th child, can add something to that list. Remember, this is my 5 year old who lives in a  three year old's body. He is smaller than most. He had to go in to get two darn fillings. They started him with laughing gas, then the shot.

He started off great. Got through the first tooth no problem. Then they started the second tooth.

Apparently gas was too much for him because in the middle of fixing the tooth, his body decided to vomit. .

"Suction. Suction!!!"

Who knew that thing could handle a peanut butter sandwich with apple slices?

Yes, the hating starts early in our house.

When pride isn't a sin

I love the moments when my kids make me proud.

Not proud as in "You finished your homework in less than an hour" proud...although that is always exciting. Not the "You actually brushed your teeth without being asked" proud. I am talking about the kind of proud that hits you right in the heart and warms you every time you think about it.

Like today. My oldest tried out for the 6th grade basketball team. He really wanted to make it. He is not naturally very athletic, but he loves sports and is willing to work hard to improve. He has been shooting the ball around and was really hoping to make the team.

I called the school today because they were posting who made the second cut for try-outs and wanted to see if Kobe had made it. Sadly, he hadn't. I wasn't sure exactly how he was going to take it...you know...tween hormones and all.

So I sat all the other kids down and told them that Kobe hadn't made the team and that he might be a little sad when he got home. That was all I needed to say.

My daughter drew a picture of a big heart and wrote a note in the middle of it that said, "Kobe, you are a great brother. I love it when you sing in the shower in the morning because I can hear it from my room. You are the best brother ever."

My middle child wrote several notes saying, "Kobe. You are really good at football! Sorry you didn't make the team. I love you." He kept saying that he felt like he was going to cry, he felt so bad. (ahhh.)

Camden wrote "Bf5 CMD 11 AE". When translated it meant "You are good at basketball. I love you!"

Briggy just scribbled and said, "This is Kobe."

Kobe got home and was just showered with love and kindness...something that I hadn't asked them to do but they had decided to do it on their own.

Proud!

So I Married a Deaf Man: If I were a book....

So I have a question.

One that has the potential of hurting my feelings if answered totally truthfully. And yet that is what I am asking.

So go ahead, hurt me.

Or not. Just don't call me bossy.

For more than a year I have been posting So I Married A Deaf Man posts. They have been fun to write. And I hope a little informative. Somewhat humorous. You know, all of that schtuff.

Many of you  have suggested that I try and get these published. Really? Do you really think people would buy such a thing?

Really? Would you? Would you buy a book about a random woman and her random life with her random, yet handsome, Deaf husband? It's a little bit random.

And yet intriguing?

I see my life as very similar to most people's. Only my life is the EXTREME in many ways. I am always fascinated by the comments that you all make saying how much your life is like mine. I love that.

So here is the question: Do you think I should get these published? Would you buy the book? Would you recommend it to someone else? Do you even know how to go about getting something published...because I sure as heck don't.

Be honest. I won't un-follow you. I promise. I don't really know how to do that...but if I knew how I wouldn't. Just looking to see if this is worth the money I would have to put into it to get it done.

Leave a comment and/or cast your vote on the poll. Heck, do both.

Go ahead. Shoot!

You ever squished a bug?

When I was 8 years old, my family was in a car accident. Luckily, none of us were hurt physically, though I do remember it being the first and only time I heard my dad swear.

"Get the HE>> out of the car!" He thought it would help us get out of the car faster. I don't buy it. If he wanted us out of the car fast all he would have had to say was, "Look! Is that a box full of candy??" and then watched the 8 of us kids fight to get out first. But whatever.

Our car was totalled. We didn't have much money and so in between getting a car that would fit all of us, a friend lent us their car. A nice gesture. One that my parents accepted. It was a rather small car.

A Volkswagon Bug. Dark Blue.

Yeah. I know.

Most of the time, if we needed to go somewhere as a family, we would have to take two trips. But when we would go to church, we all would just cram into that thing. All 10 of us. My parents would sit in the front. Four kids would sit in the back seat. The other four of us little ones would squeeze into that back space behind the backseat and the back window. Yeah, it was super safe.

I am sure when we all piled out it looked like a circus car, with an endless stream of children exiting the car. If that happened in this day and age, I am sure CPS would have been knocking down our door.  Can you imagine if we would have been in an accident? That would have been awful.

My poor parents. I don't think they had a choice. The accident happened the day before New Years Eve on our way home from a church function. It was really cold. Add to it that we didn't have much money. And I don't even think that rental cars were an option back then. Remember this was back before seatbelts were required.

We could have died. Forget that someone could have rear-ended us and killed the squaters in the back. Forget that if we would have rolled, it would have been the end of us.

No, that wasn't the most dangerous part of driving a Bug with ten passengers.

I got more bruises during that month than any other time because every time we would get in or out, my siblings would hit my arm and yell, "Slug Bug!!"

Yes, I could have died!!

So I Married a Deaf Man: Word on the Street

What does Scattergories, Taboo, Balderdash and Scrabble have in common?

Words.

These are games that are based on words. I used to spend hours and hours playing them with my family and my friends. They are fun games....

...for people who can hear.

For Hubs, they can get a little....well....boring.

Let's take Taboo. Most of this game is based on synonyms. There really are very few synonyms in ASL.  In English there are many ways to say a person is crying: sniffling, blubbering, weeping, sobbing, etc. In ASL when you say a person is crying, you just sign CRYING. Sure you change your face a bit to show the severity of the crying, but the sign is simply crying.

I remember once when we were engaged, we went to a friend's house to play Taboo. I was, of course, the interpreter. When it was the other person's turn it was hard not to cheat because almost all the clues they were giving were the same sign as the target word.  So I was struggling to spell every guessed word with my fingers at the speed they were guessing. We were behind the guessing so it was more like watching for Hubs. A real finger workout for me.

Then, when it was Hubs' turn to give the clues, He would just sign the words and leave it to me to fill in the synonyms.

Yeah, that game is just not for us.

Scattergories is a little better...but only a little. Hubs would have the clue, but would struggle to find the English word for the sign. So he would just put down the sign, hoping that someone knew the word he wanted. Hello! Cheating!!

I used to love word games. No so much anymore.

Except that we rock at Guesstures.

How do you know what I am?

I am a lot of things.

I am Wife. I am Mommy. I am Opinionated.

I am Coach. I am Teacher. I am Busy.

I am Friend. I am Interpreter. I am Late.

I am Neighbor. I am Republican. I am Tired.

I am LDS. I am Sister. I am a little Crazy.

I am Stef. I am Friendly. I am Nice.

Today I learned that I am Bossy.

It wasn't my children who told me...though I am sure they have thought that many times over. It wasn't Hubs who told me. He knows better than that. Nope, it was a complete stranger. A fellow Zumba-ite.

Apparently making a suggestion makes me Bossy.

And I guess I must be really Bossy because this woman couldn't stop telling me how Bossy I was. So much so that I turned and walked out. I was not interested in turning back time  20 years and reliving my junior high days.

Luckily, I am not Easily Offended. I am Thick Skinned. And I am also Forgiving.

Unfortunately for her I am not Skinny. So I will be back. Oh, yes, I will.

Me and my Opinionated, Suggestion-Making, Bossy self.

It's random

Today my parents enter the Missionary Training Center in Provo. Yup. That's right. Even old people go on missions. By choice. For 2 years. They are excited. My mom is nervous, but they are going be great missionaries. So if you live in Atlanta GA, look for my parents. Maybe even invite them to dinner. They are nice.

Update for you: The apple is gone. I ate a couple McD's french fries and the apple disappeared. Perhaps it was the grease that caused it to slip out. Maybe it was just enough pressure to push it down. Whatever it was, there was immediate relief. Now I can swallow in peace.  

I have a very talented brother-in-law. I thought I would share his talent with you today.

Enjoy!



Have a great week...full of wise choices!

Don't forget to chew!

It would be wise to chew the apple before you swallow it.

I wish someone would have told me this before I did just that. Oh, I thought I had chewed it. But only because that is usually what I do when I put something in my mouth. I chew.

I guess this time I forgot.

I knew the minute I swallowed I was in trouble. It didn't go down right. In fact, it didn't go down at all. I swallowed repeatedly, hoping that the muscles in my throat would force it down. Nope.  I took several drinks of water. Nope. I drank milk. Eh-uh.  I have even tried massaging my throat while drinking. Still the apple rests on some random ledge in my throat.

And there it sits. We are going on day three. I am okay if I don't swallow. Except that I can't help myself. I swallow spit, food, water, air. You don't realize how much you swallow until you feel it every time.

My friend suggested that I go to the doctor to get it checked out.

"Umm, yes. Hello. I need to make an appointment with Dr. Payne."
"Okay. And what would you like to be seen for."
"Yes. I think there is an apple stuck in my throat."
"Did you say apple?"
"Yes, a piece of apple."
"Did you just forget to chew?"
"Just make the appointment."

If it was something like a piece of chocolate, I know it would eventually melt. If it was a piece of bread I would take peace knowing that eventually it would soggify and fall apart.

I'm giving it until Monday to make its way to my digestive system..

Until then, I am naming her Eve...you know, to keep Adam company. 

So I Married a Deaf Man: Can't we just talk?

Have you ever needed to get hold of someone but you can't? Thank goodness for cell phones, right? Hubs and I are just now getting cell phones that actually function as cell phones for Deafies.

It has been a long time coming. You see, the technology for deaf people tends to be several years behind us hearing peeps. Let me show you.

When Hubs and I were dating and for about 6 years of our marriage, if I needed to talk to him, it had to be through this device....

...called a TTY.

We had one of our own and if I wanted to communicate directly with Hubs, he had to be in a place that also had one of these. What are the chances? Few and far between, I tell ya. His parents had one....and some public places were required to have them. But most of the time, if I hadn't told him something or something came up it was just plain, "Too bad!"

Yeah, I know. Ugh!!!

Pagers with texting ability entered our world about 4 years into our marriage. The only problem with this was we couldn't afford two of them. He had one and could communicate with others who had them....but I didn't have one. Worthless. So basically communication was dependent on the TTY.

Then in 2004, we got our first video phone. This allows two signing people to see each other on a TV monitor. It is really quite cool. It also allows deaf people to call through a relay service...and not take a million years. Amazing.

But we were still limited to places that had these. Lucky for us, Hubs worked at VP friendly job so this was an improvement. By then we had texting phones and so communication was quicker, but not exactly equivalent.

Then Apple came out with Facetime. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" (angels singing.)





















Now I can actually call Hubs to his cell phone and I can sign to him.... What an amazing thing!

Yes indeedy.

We've come a long way, baby!

Not sure where it came from....

Best game ever!

At least that is what we thought. Looking back, it is a little disturbing.

Someone was designated as Mama. Mama would tuck us all in bed. Then she would lie down and, rather quickly, fall into deep sleep.  Than all crazy would break loose. Laughing. Jumping. Playing. Yelling. This rompus would continue until Mama would start to wake up. We had about 3-5 seconds to try and get back into our beds.

Once she awoke, she was no longer Mama. She was called Mad Mad Mama: the first Mad expressing emotion, the second Mad representing mental state of mind...or lack thereof. She went crazy, running around trying to find out who was making the noise.

If you were caught....gasp!...you were taken to the Closet of Fear. In there you were....basically terrorized. Not really...we were really good actors...Mama would hit the closet door and we would scream out in pain.. But from the outside it was a bit scary.

Once you left the closet of terror, you were released to your bed. Then we would repeat the whole process. We would be entertained for hours. Okay, maybe not hours but for at least one. We all wanted to be Mama. We all wanted to yell at, catch and beat the children.

Where did this voilence come from?

I grew up with a great Mama. She never beat us. She never berated us. She never slept. So I have no idea how my siblings came up with this game.

But it was the...

 best game ever!