Cherry chocolate chip cupcakes

We celebrated Mr. Wonderful's birthday over the weekend, so naturally I wanted to whip up something special to put a candle in. And since that man loves a good chocolate-cherry combo, I knew these cupcakes from One Sweet Mess would be perfect.

Since it's January, I fully expected to use frozen cherries with this recipe, but lo and behold, our local market had fresh ones right up front. Yes, I realize it's not cherry season. I didn't ask questions. Hold your fire.

I like to start by separating wet and dry ingredients because I'm Type A like that. Just go with it. Here's what you need:

Wet ingredients: 

• 1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted and cooled to room temp
• 1 cup sugar
• 2 eggs
• 1/2 cup sour cream (full fat)
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 teaspoon almond extract (I almost left this out because I didn't have any. Don't do that! It really makes that cherry flavor pop.)

Dry ingredients: 

• 1 and 1/2 cups flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup (about 16) pitted cherries, chopped
• 1/2 cup mini chocolate chips

Buttercream:

• 1 and 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, at room temp
• 2 and 1/2 cups powdered sugar
• Paste from 1 vanilla bean
• 2 tablespoons heavy cream

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Meanwhile, line a 12-cup muffin tin with cute, bow tie cupcake liners that your husband won't notice, but you'll be pleased with yourself, so do it anyway.

In a large bowl, whisk together the melted butter and sugar until combined - followed by the eggs one at a time. Add the sour cream, vanilla extract and almond extract. I actually pulled out my hand mixer for this part of the job because my whisk makes life harder than it should be.

Now add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and mix well. Again, the hand mixer worked beautifully here. About 30 seconds to a minute on low should take care of it. Use a rubber spatula to fold in a heaping, half-cup of chopped cherries followed by an equally generous amount of mini chocolate chips. Mix gently.

Fill each cupcake liner about 2/3 of the way full. (An ice cream or cookie scoop makes it easy to transfer the batter.) Then, pop these in the oven and bake for 20-25 minutes. My gas oven took the full 25, but if you're not sure, do the toothpick test at 20. Once done, allow the cupcakes to cool in the tin for a couple minutes before transferring elsewhere to cool completely.

Now, for the vanilla buttercream:  

If you've got a stand mixer, I applaud you. This frosting is perfect for it. I, however, do not, so my hand mixer was happy to oblige once again.

Cream that butter until light and fluffy.  This only took me about 30 seconds on low. Gradually add the powdered sugar to the bowl, stopping the mixer if necessary to scrape down the sides of the bowl with your rubber spatula. Once all the sugar has been added, turn the speed up and beat it all together for a full minute.

Now add every bit of the lovely dark paste from that vanilla bean to your mixture. It won't look like much, but it goes a long way. Drizzle in the heavy cream and whip it good one last time. Again, for about a minute.

Transfer the buttercream to a piping bag - or frost your cupcakes with a butter knife. Whatever creams your cake. Finally, give it a lil swirly and top with a fresh cherry.

Makes about 15 small cupcakes.

Signs he might be your soulmate.

The definition of a soulmate is subjective, of course, but I'm of the belief that we have many soulmates in our lifetimes - male and female alike. These are people who have left an indelible mark on our lives, passing along wisdom in some season when we needed it the most. And in my experience, these soulmates mostly show up in one of two forms: calm or chaotic. Some fleeting. Some enduring. My husband rides the calm and enduring train - with hilarity and harmony always one stop away. His telltale soulmate signs show up in all kinds of places. Here's how I know:

1. He might be your soulmate if: He doesn't bat an eyelash when you tell him he's gonna have to dry off post-shower with one of the two flimsy beach towels we own because I donated all of our bath towels to the dog shelter. (Our wedding registry later solved that one.) Thankful.

2. He might be your soulmate if: He seeks out $5 toothpaste in an attempt to help you avoid a common ingredient known as sodium laurel sulfate because he knows it irritates your extra sensitive skin. I can only picture my sweet scientist reading the fine print on my behalf. Ditto on sunscreen, shampoo and soap. Salud.

3. He might be your soulmate if: You get stumped with hard parenthood questions, like "What's a pimp?" and he fills in the gaps without missing a beat. (Hint: "I don't know" is apparently an acceptable answer.)

4. He might be your soulmate if: He dutifully doles out your wiener dog's meds when you are out of town. Bonus points if he admits it's good practice for when you get old. Wait ...

5. He might be your soulmate (and a damn fine gentleman) if: He still opens your car door. This is major and I still gawk incredulously every time he does it.

6. He might be your soulmate if: He puts his cologne on OUTSIDE because he knows the lingering smell inside the house is a migraine trigger. God bless him.

7. He might be your soulmate if: He can untangle your bird's nest of necklaces upon arrival at every vacation destination. (Clearly, I need a better travel system.)

8. He might be your soulmate if: He celebrates the mundane with champagne. Shout out to Living Room Dance Party and Pajama Battleship.

9. He might be your soulmate if: He lays the cooking compliments on thick, even when it ain't so good. (I see you, Sugar-Free Muffins, and I'm working on it.)

10. He might be your soulmate if: He cleans the bathtub because he knows how much you hate to do it yourself. (Sing hallelujah.)

11. He might be your soulmate if: You catch him cradling your dachshund and singing nonsensical songs into her ear. (This goes for toddler nephews, too.)

12. He might be your soulmate if: He cooks. Even if only once in a blue moon. True love is waking up to the smell of breakfast. But true love at its very finest is finding your beloved standing over the stove, pan-searing a slice of watermelon in an attempt to surprise you with a bite of the delicious fruit you haven't tasted in nearly eight years. (Background: You've picked up by now that my immune system struggle is real. Melon is one of the many fruits that will not cooperate. After years of enjoying it hive-free, my body hit shuffle on food allergies and added the sweet summer staple to the already long list of raw foods I must avoid. The good news is that cooking the jerks will break down the live enzymes that cause my allergic reaction.) Enter Mr. Wonderful, who knows I miss melon the most. He wasted no time throwing a slice on the stove and serving it up for testing. Verdict: Soggy, but sweet. I'll take it.

13. He might be your soulmate if: His gifts communicate he's on board with who you are. Case in point: Jesus Feminist - a book I never mentioned was on my private Amazon wish list. After I unwrapped it one Christmas, it planted a mustard seed for what became a thought-provoking, Biblically focused book club with a round table of other "Jesus feminists."  The moral of this story is: If he welcomes, supports and even politely challenges some of your views on the world, you're in good hands.

14. He might be your soulmate if: He surprises you with a Mango Icee or a Snickerdoodle cookie because he knows they are your trashy foodie Kryptonite.

15. He might be your soulmate if: He utters sentences like, "It's been a long time since we've done an 80s night." Man after my own heart.

To be continued ...

Easy gingersnap cookies

Friendsgiving celebrations usually call for a potluck. And when you're the one who gets assigned the dessert, you don't mess around. That's why I pulled together a small batch of these ginger zingers to serve with my husband's ridiculously good pumpkin ice cream for a recent shindig with friends.

Ingredients:

• 2 cups  flour
• 1 tablespoon ground ginger
• 2 teaspoons baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup sugar, divided
• 7 tablespoons butter, softened
• 1/4 cup brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons honey
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 egg

Preheat your oven to 350°.

Combine your flour, ginger, baking soda, and salt in a small bowl. Then, in a larger bowl, combine 3/4 cup sugar, butter, and brown sugar and beat with a mixer at low speed until well blended. Add the honey, vanilla, and egg to your sugar mixture and continue to beat. Now you're gonna add that initial flour mixture, beating it all together. It will be granular, but well blended. Cover your dough with some plastic warp and freeze for at least half an hour.

Pour your remaining 1/4 cup of sugar onto a small plate and set aside. Lightly coat your hands in cooking spray and go ahead and shape that dough into 1-inch balls. You should end up with about 24-30 gumball-sized balls of dough. Then you'll roll each ball around in your plate of sugar and place each one a few inches inches apart on a baking sheet. Bake these babies at 350° for 15 minutes or until lightly browned.

Cool, serve and enjoy with ice cream. If you're into that.

Pumpkin ice cream

Pumpkin's everywhere this time of year, so naturally I've been making it a point to squeeze a little more of the gourd into my recipe rotation. Last month, it was a little pumpkin banana bread (holy yum), and most recently, some slightly less satisfying pumpkin oatmeal muffins. Note to self: More honey.

Last weekend, while I was eating my way through New York City with a few gal pals, my husband was back home experimenting with our ice cream maker. After previous batches of peach, chocolate chip and vanilla were a rousing success with the wife and kids, he settled on pumpkin this time - which I was obviously more than happy to sample upon my return.

Delicious hardly describes it, you guys. This ice cream is so wonderfully rich and satisfying, you must not keep it to yourself. Please make this for your next Friendsgiving. Make it for your work potluck. Netflix and chill with it. Just eat it as soon as possible.

Here's how it goes down.

First up, you need vanilla ice cream. This is the base. You can substitute homemade for the store bought variety, of course, but when my husband commits to something, he's all in, so here's the 411 on his homemade vanilla first.

Vanilla Ice Cream Ingredients:

• 2 eggs
• 1  cup white sugar
• pinch of salt
• 3 cups milk
• 1 ½ cups evaporated milk
• 1 can sweetened condensed milk
• 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
• ½  cup water

Beat eggs in large bowl until foamy. Whisk in sugar until thickened. Gradually whisk in salt, milks, vanilla and water. Pour into freezer canister of ice cream maker. Place aluminum canister in center of bucket and layer the bucket with ice and salt. The motor does the rest. (If you're going low-tech, here are 6 ways to make ice cream without a machine.) This makes about ½ gallon.

Now, while your vanilla's goin' about its business, go ahead and prep that pumpkin while whistling along to that Tom Waits classic. You know the one. (This is what I pictured Mr. Wonderful doing when he made it.)

Pumpkin Ice Cream Ingredients:

• 1 can pumpkin (15 oz.)
• 1 cup white sugar
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• ½ teaspoon ground nutmeg
• ½ gallon vanilla ice cream, softened

In a separate bowl, combine the canned pumpkin, sugar and spices. Mix until well blended and then fold into vanilla ice cream. Serve topped with pumpkin seeds, if you so desire. Makes about 1 gallon of self-gratification.

The wedding present we turned into somebody else’s groceries.

Before Mr. Wonderful and I got married, we received a very unique wedding gift. It was a generous check that came with one request:

"Use this to celebrate your first month together as a married couple."

Last week, when we'd been wed a whole month, I glanced at that check. And here's what I figured. We could enjoy a nice, kid-free dinner out at some new Austin hot spot. (Fooding is what I love best.) Or we could use this opportunity to teach the The Little Boys Club something about giving as a family. Kids' causes are dear to both our hearts, and when it comes to food, well, we're big fans. So naturally, my first thought was feeding the hungry.

What if we took the twins shopping for food staples? What if we used that generous check to purchase those groceries and then deliver the donations to our local food bank ourselves?

One-third of the folks our food bank serves are kids, after all. Maybe this gesture could help the boys understand that three square meals a day are not a guarantee for every child in our community.

I floated the idea by 'em over clam chowder. In August. (Because when a kid is stoked about his suggestion for supper, you just go ahead and prepare hot, thick soup on a 103-degree afternoon.)

I told them about the check. I explained how fortunate we were to be eating clam chowder in August because some people don't get to choose what they eat - let alone eat until their stomachs are full.

That's when I suggested that we take a little field trip to shop for somebody else's groceries. They listened carefully. Took it all in. Then, AC chimed in.

"I know something about this," he said with a serious look on his face. "Because we saved an elderly last Christmas."

An elderly! I smiled. That was his way of telling us he remembered the space heater we donated to a senior in our community last December as part of their school's holiday wish-granting program. (We're big on planting the seed of giving in their hearts.)

Anyway, I could tell we had buy-in, so I put AC in charge of the shopping list.

• peanut butter
• canned chicken and tuna
• canned vegetables
• canned fruit
• brown rice
• cereal
• canned beans

When we got to the store, he followed me up and down each aisle, dutifully checking off each item. Brother loaded up our shopping cart and Dad made sure we didn't go over the number on that check. Teamwork had us outta there with a cart full of groceries in less than 20 minutes.

A short drive down the road later and we pulled into the parking lot at the Capital Area Food Bank of Texas, where we dropped the groceries in the donation bin.

"How do you feel?" I asked them.

"Good!" they answered simultaneously.

Me too, I thought. Not a bad way to fulfill that request to celebrate our first month as newlyweds. I hope the boys will remember our "celebration" field trip as fondly as I will.

---

Wanna help feed your neighbors? Find your local food bank by ZIP code at FeedingAmerica.org. Whether you're interested in donating your time, a few bucks or a couple of cans, you can get involved in more ways than one. And if you live in Central Texas, the Capital Area Food Bank makes it easy to get involved.

The red book.

Three years ago today, Mr. Wonderful and I had our first date. Two weeks later, I invited him to join some friends and I to celebrate my 32nd birthday. Admittedly, I was a little bummed when he told me he'd be out of town during the festivities because I was eager to show off the "Hot Neighbor" I'd told my friends about. (That was our behind-his-back nickname for a solid two months.) But it was so early into our relationship that I kept my expectations for Hot Neighbor in check - and chalked up his apologetic decline to bad timing.

When Celebration Sunday came around, I spent the entire day in the company of good friends. A lovely brunch. Sangria. Late-night pizza. We even capped off the night with a little dancing on a school night. All my people were there and my heart was gorged with gratitude.

My best friend dropped me off at home around 11 p.m. and I walked the three flights of stairs up to my apartment - still smiling on the day's events. That's when I saw a brightly colored gift bag on my doorstep next to an enormous bag of M&Ms tied with a gold bow. I read the card attached:

"Happy birthday, beautiful. I'm positive I missed a good time."

I clutched my chest like I was having a heart attack. No. Surely not. It can't be from him.

But it WAS from him. And inside that bag was a red leather journal. That's when I knew this was a man after my own heart - presenting me with all those gorgeous blank pages after having known me a mere two weeks! I couldn't believe it.

I turned to that journal regularly after that, and in it I wrote about our experiences together. I recounted our travels. I shared fears. I crafted a poem! I told him about all the ways I was grateful for him. I expressed insecurities about being a bonus mama. I made a list of things I loved about him. I thanked him for pursuing me at my most skeptical. I documented every detail of his Christmas Day proposal and I admitted that I could hardly wait to marry him. In blue and black ink, I poured my heart onto those pages for nearly three years.

Love can sure bring out the 16-year-old girl in you.

Last month, I took that red leather journal to Mexico with me. On the morning of our wedding day, I wrapped it carefully in tissue paper and hid it in our Cabo San Lucas hotel room for my groom to find after I'd gone to get ready.

That old birthday present had become a leather-bound record of our romance. And that record of our romance became my wedding present to Hot Neighbor, Mr. Wonderful, my husband.

The story behind the confetti.

This moment stands out the most about my wedding day. Surrounded inside that tunnel of family and friends, I stood utterly amazed at the sheets of confetti that rained down on me and my groom. It was as though time slowed down for just five seconds. And I knew she was there with us.

This confetti, you see, came from dozens of cascarones made by my late grandmother. Making confetti-filled eggs was her most precious pastime. The woman didn't knit or do crosswords. Her lifetime hobby was making the brightly colored cascarones to sell at Easter time. When she passed away two years ago at 91 on the night before Easter Sunday, there were cartons upon cartons of the little gems left over. (I like to think she made it home just in time to celebrate with her creator. Perhaps she cracked one of her favorite "watermelon red" cascarones over some other angel's halo.)

Last winter, Mr. Wonderful asked me to marry him and I imagined our wedding. More specifically, I imagined the send-off celebration. I knew we had to break out those hand-painted eggs full of her hand-cut confetti. I wasn't quite sure how we were going to pull it off, but Mom promised she'd get five dozen cascarones to our destination wedding in Mexico.

I crossed my fingers the delicate shells would go unscathed as airport baggage handlers tossed luggage onto a plane from Austin to Cabo San Lucas. I held my breath knowing Mom would have to get them through Mexican customs. As "animal products," would they be considered agriculture and therefore prohibited and confiscated? This very important tribute to my grandmother rested on a game of red light, green light.

And then, GREEN.

We did it. SHE did it. And it was positively magical.

Note to self: Worry about yourself, dear.

A couple years ago, Mr. Wonderful gave me a Q&A book for Christmas. It's basically a one-sentence-a-day journal for couples filled with 365 questions to answer over the course of three years - starting over again each January. The idea is that, with a little bit of effort, you'll have a pretty sweet snapshot of your relationship. (What I'm saying is that if you put a daily reminder on your calendar and leave the book in places you think your partner will notice, and also cross your fingers, you should net out with enough answers for a respectable comparison.)

Clearly, I enjoy this ritual much more than he does. I'm lucky if Mr. W documents more than three words at a time. On the flip side, I have trouble stopping myself at one sentence. This should surprise no one.

The thing is, the data is SO telling! I've harvested this information after just a year's worth of entries, and there's already so much evidence staring back at me to reinforce my investment in this relationship. Most poignant are the recurring themes of family, faith, finances, career and goals for the future. It's fascinating to see where our answers match up and where they don't. And when I ask myself why these insights are so meaningful, I know it's because I got it right this time - especially after so much time getting it wrong. And the only proof I need is the way my life looks today with him in it.

Clearly, I get pretty geeked up when it comes to drawing parallels for growth, development and expectations - both personally and professionally.  Some people can play an instrument beautifully. Others are fantastic athletes or chefs. I don't have a green thumb or a knack for writing code, but I do get pumped about the sociology of relationships.

Allow me to elaborate. Recently, the Q&A book asked us to fill in the following blank:

"I wouldn't have really understood (                ) if it wasn't for you."

Now, a number of answers would have fit nicely here.

Texas A&M. Energy drinks. The GOP. (Hey, we don't have to agree on everything to love one another.)

But the word I wrote in that space was "MYSELF."

So much that I know about me has come from who I am when he and I are together. And it reminds me of something I read recently by Glennon Doyle Melton:

Marriage is dogged, determined patience. It’s also one of the only ways we’ll ever truly know ourselves. Because to know ourselves we have to stop flitting and face our demons in the face of another person who serves as our mirror. Who reflects the best and worst of ourselves back to us. 

DING! DING! DING!

Strawberry Oatmeal Muffins

I recently came across these good morning muffins on The Lemon Bowl, a blog written by a recipe developer with a focus on seasonality. And with berries in full seasonal swing, baking seemed like good timing.

Not to mention, I recently acquired a silicone muffin pan as a wedding gift and figured I could christen it with these babies. Less clean-up? Sign me up.

This recipe is my slightly adapted version of The Lemon Bowl's strawberry oatmeal yogurt muffins. Not a bad little breakfast, y'all. Especially when you un-healthy them with just a little pat o' butter.

Ingredients

• 1 ½ cups whole wheat flour
• ½ cup old fashioned oats
• ½ cup sugar
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• ½ teaspoon baking soda
• ½ teaspoon salt
• ½ teaspoon cinnamon
• 1 cup plain low fat yogurt (I used Greek vanilla yogurt)
• 1 large egg
• 3 tablespoons melted coconut oil – slightly cooled (I used olive, not pictured)
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 1 cup fresh strawberries, quartered

Preheat oven to 375 degrees and spray your muffin pan with cooking spray. Whisk together dry ingredients in a large bowl and set aside. In a medium bowl, whisk together yogurt, egg, oil and vanilla. Slowly pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir to combine.

Next, fold your strawberries into the batter. Using a spoon or ice-cream scoop, divide the batter evenly among 12 muffin cups. Bake for 20-25 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.

So berry good.

Don't major on the minors. And other marriage advice.

Since we got engaged, Mr. Wonderful and I have received a lot of advice. Some solicited and some unsolicited, of course, but it's all welcome - both the sweet and the sarcastic. If you've got insight, I wanna hear it. In fact, I wrote last year about a sweet old woman who shared some very pragmatic advice with me about her marriage of 52 years (make it 53 now). I appreciated her honest wit because this is how we learn, y'all. Ask questions. And then listen. Even if you didn't ask a question. From incredible foresight to a cautionary tale, you've probably seen more than  a few of the pearls of wisdom I've compiled here. (Actually, I'm sure you could find some of them hand-painted on a wooden pallet on Etsy.) These thoughts represent knowledge acquired from friends and family. Some single. Some over the course of decades of marriage. Some after painful divorce. But each statement holds meaning for someone. And all have been passed on to us. I'd love to add yours, too.

- Say "yes" as much as possible.

- Always keep God first in your life and all else will fall into place, including your golf swing.

- Be patient with each other. Never go to bed angry and say I'm sorry when you know you should. Don't let pride get the best of you. Be best friends and laugh together. Be goofy. Be fun!

- Always kiss hello and goodbye.

- Make time for each other. Let God be your guide in all things that you do. Remember: For better or worse!

- Sex.

- Communicate often and don't hold things in.

- Lean on God and each other to get you through hard times. Celebrate the good times and give God all the glory.

- Decide which battles are worth fighting about.

- Always date each other.

- Say I'm sorry first.

- It isn't important to always be right or get your way. It is important to make sure that your spouse knows how much you love and respect them.

- Don't defend yourself.

- Keep God first in your marriage. A chord of three strands will not break.

-  Forgive one another.

- Pick your battles. Don't major on the minors.

- Remember to say, "Darlin, this is the best burnt (           ) I've ever had."

- Always laugh at yourself.

- As the old adage goes, "Happy wife = happy life."

- Learn to do Lou Bega's "Mambo Number 5" dance together and you'll be in good shape.

- Read together.

- A couple that plays together stays together!

- Remember that you always have each other and cherish every moment.

- Laugh. A LOT.

- Keep Christ as the most important person in both of your lives. He will bring you closer together as you draw closer to him.

- Display a random act of kindness/thoughtfulness at least once a month to keep your partner guessing.

- Remember to date each other. And put your love first above everything else.

- Don't be afraid to get help when you need it. You don't have to work through the rough patches alone.

- Show love in the language you each receive it.

- Marriage is hard work and not something to give up on easily. Fight for your marriage!

-  A marriage is a partnership and partnerships are harder with distance. Whether emotional or physical, strive to be close always.

- Think before you speak. Once something ugly comes flying out of your mouth, saying "sorry" doesn't take away the hurt that the words caused in the first place. Sometimes it's better to just walk away and come back when you can think straight and have a level-headed conversation.

- Choose him. Everyday choose each other. Choose to be his wife. Choose to be his lover. Choose to be with him. Choose to fight with him and for him. Choose to love him. Some days it will be a struggle to choose him and on those days he'll choose you and remind you why you chose each other.

In plain sight: My Good Friday experience.

I stood in line behind him at the dollar store. It was Good Friday and I was waiting to buy some Easter grass when I noticed the man's oily brown hair underneath a black cap. I saw the dirt-stained backpack, twisted at the straps. I saw the unwashed jeans slung low on his waist. In his left arm, he cradled a package of toilet paper and some razors. He turned around and smiled at me. "It might be a little while," he said, holding out his right hand to show me the fist full of nickels and pennies he planned to hand over to the cashier.

"Well, we can just put these all together," I told him, pushing my items forward on the counter.

He looked at me, surprised.

"You don't have to do that."

His dark blue eyes were wet now.

"Oh, I don't mind."

My heart started beating faster - the same way it does every time I see someone in need. I wanted to do more. I wanted to step out of line and fill a basket of canned goods from the aisle behind me. But I didn't. Instead, I swiped my debit card for $5.41 while he stood aside and waited politely.

I watched as he unzipped his backpack and stuffed 4 rolls of toilet paper and a pack of razors inside it - right next to everything else he owned.

"Have a good day," I said.

He nodded.

In those eyes I saw gratitude. I saw someone's father. Perhaps someone's son or brother. Though I might never know his story, I do know that he matters.

I walked to my car and by the time I turned around, he was gone - the image of those dark blue eyes deeply ingrained.

Why, yes I can.

"Can you imagine if the Earth were shaped like Texas?"

Yesterday we celebrated Dr. Seuss's birthday a little early -- with green eggs and ham, of course. As we sat around the breakfast table, I mentioned to The Little Boys Club that in addition to the beloved author's birthday, March 2 was also Texas Independence Day. AC looked at me with wide eyes and proposed a new unique shape for our fair planet.

Trading oysters for frostbite.

On the half shell.Richly Rockefeller. Fried. Roasted. Grilled. On a Bahn Mi. In a cup o' gumbo or a Bloody Mary.

I'm very good at eating for a cause, you know. And these beautiful bivalves greeted us in many forms this weekend at Austin's 3rd annual Oyster Festival benefiting the Capital Area Food Bank. Despite freezing rain, we made the trip out to Carson Creek Ranch for a hearty sampling of the savory shellfish. A truly delectable bounty.

Cajun shrimp and sausage stew

I won’t call it gumbo ‘cause I’m no Cajun, but "stew" seemed sufficient for my limited expertise with this French fricassée. I whipped this one up in honor of Fat Tuesday ‘cause I believe real Tuesdays have curves. Serve her highness over rice if you're into that. I let my stew go stag.

Ingredients

• 2 teaspoons olive oil
• 1/2  cup chopped green bell pepper
• 1/2 cup chopped onion
• 1/2 cup chopped celery
• 1 cup thinly sliced smoked sausage (about 8 ounces)
• 1 teaspoon or about two cloves of minced garlic
• 1 teaspoon Cajun seasoning
• 1 cup okra (I used frozen cuts)
• 3/4 cup chicken broth
• 1 (10-ounce) can diced tomatoes and green chiles
• 1/2 pound of peeled and deveined small shrimp
• 1 (15-ounce) can red beans, rinsed and drained

Heat a medium-sized pot over medium heat. Add oil to pan and swirl to coat. Sauté bell pepper, onion, celery, okra, sausage and garlic for 3 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add broth and canned tomatoes; bring to a boil. Stir in shrimp and beans. Sprinkle in seasoning. Cover, reduce heat, and simmer 5 minutes or until shrimp are done. Salt to taste.

Place-and-bake cinnamon roll hearts

I got a little carried away with heart-shaped fare this weekend. We started our Saturday with these love-themed cinnamon rolls. No fuss. I just picked up a can of pre-made dough at the grocery store, rolled each pre-cut section into a heart and then baked as directed on 400 for about 10 minutes. Our Valentwins added some frosting and red sprinkles, and I served them alongside some fresh strawberries. Easy, festive and amusing.

Here's an excerpt from our always-entertaining table conversations:

Me: "I thought we could make some heart-shaped pizzas again this year for dinner. You know, to celebrate Valentine's Day."

A.C.: "Isn't Presidents Day coming up? Why don't we make pizzas shaped like Abraham Lincoln?"

Clever, but way outside my realm of creativity, child. We stuck with the original plan: Heart-shaped flat bread, a few simple toppings and voila. Have a look. This gal even hand-cut the pepperonis into tiny hearts, y'all. Who am I?

Move over, Sriracha.

I'm not into spicy. I'm into flavor. - AC, The Little Boys Club

Grooming the littlest philanthropists.

I recently spent some time helping the little dudes set up an online giving page for the American Heart Association’s Jump Rope for Heart fundraiser. Their dad and I explained the basic concept of charitable giving and how people’s donations could help fund research for children with heart conditions. And while one of the twins was clearly more interested in the potential prizes for participating in the campaign, the other took us both by surprise when he said he wanted to ask our neighbors for money. "You know how much I love animals ... and children are animals, too," he explained matter-of-factly.

Fair enough. My heart swelled at his compassion. Mr. Wonderful escorted our newest philanthropist around the building as he knocked on doors reciting his practiced plea. And although he only came back with a few bucks, I could not have been more proud that he made the decision to stand for something. I could hardly believe this was the same kid who hid behind his dad’s thigh when we first met.

Sowing the seeds.

It's important to me to plant the seeds of giving in these little boys' hearts - and I can't get enough of their innocent impressions of the world. We build a gratitude tree together each fall. And a couple Christmases ago, I encouraged them to choose a child's name from our church's holiday giving tree. These "angel trees" are usually covered with paper ornaments that have a child's wish written on it. You take an ornament, buy the item requested and return it to the tree for delivery to said child. After we explained to the twins that there are many less fortunate children in our community who would benefit from a little generosity, they chose to fulfill a wish from a boy their age who asked for an art set. I gave them each a little money and we let them pick out a present. This task also turned into a teachable moment about compromise and budgeting since they had to agree on the perfect kit and make sure they had enough money to cover the cost. It was a good start.

Then, last December, we tried something a little different. As we approached a similar giving tree at their school's winter festival, I noticed a very different kind of wish hanging on the lowest branch. It said, "Elderly - Heater". My eyes widened. Mr. Wonderful must have caught my expression because he grabbed the ornament and promptly declared, "This is the one." The boys didn't object. So instead of shopping the toy aisle last holiday, they got to compare space heaters for a home-bound senior citizen. The Littles even pitched in a few bucks of their own that time.

Opportunities to demonstrate and develop these boys' character usually arise when we least expect it. And I'm incredibly grateful to have a partner in life who is committed to making those moments meaningful.

What are your strategies for raising kids who are grounded and generous?

The gal upstairs wins the lottery.

This is kinda like one of those stories you hear about someone who bought a lottery ticket and then misplaced it. And then months later, they found the ticket under a pile of clutter and slowly realized the winning numbers were just out of reach all along. Kinda like that. The Gal Upstairs is what my fiancé called me during the first few months of our courtship in late 2012. "Gal" is one of his adorable East Texas nouns. There are many.

He texted me one September morning while I was at work: "Will you be my gal for the weekend?" I laughed aloud in my cubicle.  It was a Wednesday and he was already thinking about the weekend. I smiled, knowing that was his country way of letting me know he wanted to spend more time together.

My future husband lived just two floors below my apartment for an entire 14 months before I ever laid eyes on him. Our assigned parking spots were marked right next to one another, yet more than a year had passed before so much as a "good morning" was exchanged.  The easy explanation is that he works nights. My schedule is opposite his. Naturally, we missed one another coming and going. But I decided later that Timing was just taking a very long nap - for my own good really.

The truth is that God wasn't done schooling me. There was something very special about 2012. That January, I set very aggressive goals financially, spiritually and relationally. By June, Progress had shown up in curious form. I'd finally managed to close a couple of very heavy doors and take notice of an open window. (This is the part where I say the window had been open the whole time. Of course.)

So when I finally did meet Mr. Wonderful on that sweet summer day at my apartment swimming pool, I asked if he lived nearby. That's when he pointed directly behind us - to my building.

"Been here 'bout a year."

Swine sensibilities

I'm never gonna hunt pig because it's, like, my favorite animal. But I will eat it if it's already been hunted. - H, The Little Boys Club

Things I've learned about little boys.

OH, BOY. In the two-plus years that I've had the pleasure of getting to know Mr. Wonderful's twin sons, aka The Little Boys Club, they've taught me a thing or two. Life as a Bonus Mama is no cake walk - although cake would be a nice incentive during their occasional meltdowns. But the good news is that the little dudes already have two terrific parents, so I can take my cues from them. The following is an evolving list of important things to know if you are me.

1. If you see a stray stone or loose leaf, let it be. Do not even consider throwing away that rock, seed or twig. The wind did not accidentally blow it inside the house. It is there on purpose. That special treasure is exactly that. Trust me. Spare yourself the guilt of having just taken out the trash when a little voice asks what happened to the ____ that was right there a minute ago.

2. Instead of participating in the Saturday morning YMCA basketball/football/baseball game you're playing, it's often more fun to lie flat on the floor, hop on one leg or twirl around in circles. Sometimes you just gotta do your thing and it can't wait for half time.

3. The competition is fierce. Truly. You must be faster, smarter, stronger and a better reader of sight words than your brother. It is the law of brotherhood.

4. Why use a fork when you can lick the plate clean? Literally. Face down. Get it done.

5. Don't ask silly questions about safety. When you ask a boy if he knows what to do if his clothes catch on fire, be prepared for matter-of-fact solutions, like "Take my shirt off." And if you ask a boy if he knows what he should do if we come across an animal on our cub scout hike, try not to showcase a look of horror when his answer is "Kill it."

6. You might, at some point, find a rogue science experiment in the freezer. Do not mistake a Styrofoam cup full of acorns and flowers frozen into a block of ice for the latest juice cleanse - even if you do live in Austin, Texas.

7. Always carry Band-Aids.

8. In order to fall asleep, a little boy might need anywhere from two to six stuffed animals by his side. Sometimes it will be a tiny ninja or a Lego knight. Make room for them.

9. The two funniest words in the English language are "butt," and "fart." Do not try to understand this. They just are.

10. Repeating the words "SHOES" or "TEETH" multiple times does not ensure that either will be addressed.

11. Let them sit on your lap, hold your hand or squeeze in next to you under the covers at 6 a.m. because they might not be down for that much longer.

12. Reassure the boy that he is NOT "dumb," like the kid in the cafeteria line told him at school. And then resist the urge to march into his first-grade classroom and find the little shit who said it.

... If only we could ensure that "dumb" is the worst thing they'll ever be called.