Brazilian Lemonade

Picture Courtesy of
"Our Best Bites"

I don't normally blog about recipes. I mean, there are about a thousand and a half recipe blogs out there, and I won't ever pretend to be one. However, there is a recipe that I HAVE to share, because it is insanely good. Brazilian Lemonade (though I would call it a Brazilian Limeade seeing as there is not an ounce of lemon in it).

I got the recipe off of the "Our Best Bites" blog. If you want to check out their specific how-to's, click here.

Otherwise, go now! Don't wait till tonight! Call in sick if you must! You'll thank me later!






Brazilian Lemonade

4 juicy limes (try and find ones with thin, smooth skins; they’re the juiciest and the thin skin cuts down on the chance of your drink being bitter)
1 c. sugar
6 c. cold water
6 Tbsp. sweetened condensed milk

Mix cold water and sugar very well and chill until ready to use. This step can be done ahead of time.

Wash limes thoroughly with soap (I just use hand-dishwashing soap or regular hand soap); you need the soap to get the wax and pesticides off of the limes because you’re using the WHOLE lime, baby. Cut the ends off the limes and then cut each lime into 8ths.

Place 1/2 of the limes in your blender.

Add 1/2 of the sugar water, place the lid on your blender, and pulse 5 times. Place a fine-mesh strainer over a pitcher (the one you’ll serve the lemonade in) and pour the blended mixture through the strainer and into the pitcher. Use a spoon to press the rest of the liquid into the pitcher. Dump the pulp and stuff in the strainer into the trash. Repeat with remaining limes and sugar water. Add sweetened condensed milk; DO NOT leave this step out unless you will die of a horrible sweetened condensed milk allergy because this is the secret ingredient! You may want to taste test it at this point; I used giant, thick-skinned limes tonight and didn’t test it and it came out a little bitter. If it’s bitter, just add some more sugar and maybe a little more milk.

Serve immediately over lots of ice. This does not keep well, so don’t make this in advance (although you can cut the limes, mix the sugar water, and measure the sweetened condensed milk in advance). Serves 4, although I can pretty much guarantee you that people will want more; I usually plan on 1 1/2 servings at LEAST per person.

Just How Hot is it in Arizona?

When we hear from friends and family, the first question is always, "How's the family?" And before I even have a chance to answer, the next question is, "So...just how hot is it out there?"  During the summer months, so far we have seen a high of 116, I think. It may have actually been hotter, but after a while, numbers become irrelevant. Let me illustrate for you.

Let's take a trip down imaginary lane for a moment. Let's imagine that you're on vacation. You spent the extra money and went somewhere tropical and extremely exclusive. Palm trees sway in the breeze, and your room even has an ocean view. The sky is a perfect, cloudless blue, and the turquoise ocean is calling your name, beckoning you to come and take a swim. This is what you have been waiting for since you booked your trip!

You slip into your bathing suit, grab some sunscreen, throw on your sandals, and your legs run out the door faster than your body can catch up.

The intoxicating smell of tropical vegetation, salt water, and sunscreen fills your head. All your stresses, one by one, wash away with the crash of every tide. You find a prime spectator position on the beach, toss your towel and bag of sun and swim supplies down, and then you do the unthinkable: You take off your sandals.

The second your foot touches the hot sand, a burning sensation radiates up your foot, through your leg, and you find yourself in, what I like to call, a thermal fit (the crazy, though highly entertaining dance one does when one walks in hot sand).

That feeling of unforgiving hot sand under your feet and between your toes? The one that doesn't go away for several seconds after you sit on your towel? That is what the Arizona heat feels like... all. over. your. body. Like I said, after a while, numbers become irrelevant. Summers here are killer. Otherwise, Arizona is great!

On a side note: I know you are probably wondering how Landon did yesterday. He did really well. The ladies who work there just adore him (no surprise, he's such a little stud!) It will take some time to see how he responds but so far the stimulation seems to excite him. He seemed a little more energetic and involved last night than normal. His responses seemed to be more on cue as well (it usually takes him a while to internalize our requests before he gives an answer or performs a task).  I have started a daily log of his progress, and I look forward to sharing it with all of you after these 30 days are up. I will share another progress log at 90 days. Thanks for all your love and support! Love you all!

Today is the Big Day!

Today is Landon's first day of treatment. He is going to have two 30-minute sessions , one at 1p.m. and then again at 2:30 p.m.

We are anxious to see how this helps him learn how to communicate with us! It's been a struggle for so long, trying to meet his needs when we don't know what bothers him or why. He is such an incredible and loving little boy, and I am so excited to see him flourish!

Wish us luck!

Freight Trained

I felt compelled to write this post because of the downright, no good, patience-tapping week that I've had.

Case in point: Wednesday, while I was in the shower, mischievous little Myla Bean got her hands on some butter and SMEARED it into the couch. I took a deep breath, grabbed the steam cleaner, cleaned up the greasy mess and went on to make lunch for the kids. Within 20 minutes all three kids had struck simultaneously. When I came back into the room, Myla had grabbed her brother's PB&J from the table and mashed it into the couch, right where I just cleaned. At the same time, the boys had torn apart the front room and the kitchen, spilling the milk, spreading jam on the table, and leaving the last of the Apple Jacks all over the floor.  In that same moment, the vacuum wouldn't work, and the water heater decided it needed some personal time off. All three my kids almost all went up for adoption that second, and it was only noon.


Believe it or not, the whole week shot straight downhill from there, leaving my head spinning on it's only slightly attached axis. Despite my best efforts to keep everything together, it all fell apart anyway, and by Friday morning I was in tears and feeling about this big... give or take an inch.  


But then something happened. Friday afternoon, I did something good for myself. I made myself a protein shake, turned up some music and danced around the house like a moron. To complete the picture, I belted out off-key notes, serenading my children with my lack of talent. They thought it was great and it was just what I needed to unwind, re coop, and pull myself back together. Do you know what I realized? No matter what, I wasn't going to let anything stop me, not even butter on the couch. Nothing is going to claim me, because it's never as bad as it seems.


I reflected on the past week, and all those who had approached me about one thing or another, and I realized they or the people they were venting about probably had just as rough a week as I had. I was forced to recognize that I did the very best I could this week, and considering the obstacles I had, I made it through relatively unscathed, which was pretty impressive if I do say so myself.


One of my favorite quotes came from a dear friend of mine, Wendy. I'm bolding it so that it sticks in your memory like it sticks in mine.

"No matter how bad you think the day is--if you are looking down at the grass and not up at the roots, everything else is okay." ~A.U.

So, if you had a bad week as well, guess what? Today is Saturday. Do something good for yourself! You deserve it! Make that protein shake, turn up the music that makes you say, "You know what? Forget this week! It's done, and next week promises to be just as exciting! Bring it on!" And join me in dancing like the village idiot, because what else have we got to loose? Next  week is going come whether we like it or not, and chances are it's bringing a U-Haul of baggage.

"We're fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance." ~Japanese Proverb

Getting Back to You

I've had a few questions and comments via e-mail and Facebook about Landon and this program we have enrolled him in. Rather than answer individually, I thought I would do an answer section on here.

When Landon wasn't talking at 18 months, we knew it wasn't that he was never going to, it was that, from what we could see, he didn't seem ready for learning. To put pressure on the matter, we were told that the magic age for children's learning was age 3. We later learned that this wasn't really the case.

When he was enrolled in school while we lived in Utah, his inability to retain information was not due to the lack of effort from his teacher and her aids (though I definitely would not speak as highly of the early intervention program we had him enrolled in prior to preschool). In fact, the reason we were able to work through a lot of his hang ups was that support system, and to this day he still remembers a lot of the lessons they taught him. They are a phenominal group of ladies who make a difference in not only the lives of the children they touch, but their parents as well.

The problem, however, is his ability to process information and then utilize it, mainly because of his SID. See the brain really only has a handful of ways that it is able to receive information, which is all of the senses. When the sensory system is off, the body's ability to get that information and process it is off as well. This is the case with Landon.

So, what is going to happen? Landon's sensory system is going to be retrained to accept information by vestibular stimulation (he lays on a motion table), auditory retraining (he listens to music through headphones that hits different frequencies), and visual stimulation (he focuses on a light above him that changes color and flashes on and off 6 times in a minute). In  'Tasha' speak: "Musical Flashy Light Therapy." For a better understanding, click here.

So, how does it work? Well, right now Landon's brain is only able to receive, process, and express so much information. Imagine holding a narrow PVC pipe, and dumping a pitcher full of water over it (water would be information), some water would get in, most would be missed. This therapy opens up those channels so that more information gets in. I could try explaining beyond this, but I would never be able to do it justice, so if you're curious click here.

Sensory Therapy doesn't stop after this program. We are currently looking into a program in Tucson for Sensory Therapy when this program is done. Don't worry, we will document Landon's progress through this adventure. It will be such a relief to unlock this puzzle!

If you or someone you know is looking for therapy for children or adults who have ADHD, Autism, brain trauma, aquired brain inury, behavioral problems, developmental delays, learning disabilities, or Dysfunctional Sensory Integration check out www.sirriaz.com.

The Adventures of Buzz, Woody, and Stinky Pete

Today's post is dedicated to our adorable little bubba, Kaden! Without him, we would be utterly lost. He adds light and character to a life that often gets  drowned with concern and worry.  I honestly don't know what this family would do without him.   

As of the last few weeks, the new favorite, "repeat several times a day until mommy takes them to the park because she can't stand it anymore," movie has been Toy Story 2. Little bubba absolutely adores this movie, and applies it's lessons to daily life.

For instance, Kaden absolutely believes that he is Buzz Lightyear when the movie is playing... constantly telling me, "Mommy, I Buzz Eightear!" and "Buzz Eightear to the rescue!" as he soars around the house with his toy buzz in hand. He has about five of Buzz's in various sizes that he cannot go to bed without any of them! It's so cute! 

He makes sure to involve Landon in all of his Buzz roll playing (naturally, scrawny little Landon always plays Woody), and it's funny how it's true to life. I would say a fair comparison of the friendship that he and Landon have would be comparable to Woody and Buzz Lightyear. He is always looking out for Landon (not so much Myla) and if everything is not alright with Landon, Kaden is right there by his side to cheer him up. I never expected to see two siblings as close as these two.

The part of Toy Story 2 that is taken most to heart, though? Stinky Pete. Apparently fart jokes become funny at a very young age, though up until now we hadn't really given a name to them. Now, whenever anyone breaks wind (usually one of the boys...haha, like I would ever admit to it...) Kaden bellows "You're Stinky Pete!" Yep, that's Kaden to a "T!"

The Light at the End of the Nightmare

Today I am going to get a little more deep and personal than usual, but it is something I just have to share.

Just over 5 years ago, I delivered a healthy baby boy. He was absolutely beautiful; a perfect combination of me and Jim with olive skin, almond eyes, stick straight hair and a dimple in his right cheek. Like I said, perfect.

He grew healthy and strong, and the three of us took many adventures together. He was charming; his laughter made all the girls coo and even grown men became mush under his spell.

At 13 months he started walking, and we couldn't keep up! We would go to the park and I would chase him and chase him, we'd play "Peek-A-Boo," and ride the swing. We ate spaghetti for dinner with green beans several nights a week just because they were his favorite.

At 18 months everything changed. I took him into the doctor for a well child check up, and the doctor expressed concern that Landon hadn't started talking yet. Up until that point I hadn't thought much of it. Then we started noticing other things about Landon. His food preferences became slimmer and slimmer, he cried when he heard loud sounds, and became scared of many different tactile sensations i.e.; grass on his skin, or a bowl of uncooked rice, the texture of yogurt, and so on.

We enrolled him in an early intervention program to help. That's when the word first started coming out: Autism.

I remember putting him to bed that night, seeing my baby for the first time as the world saw him: Broken. Abnormal. Different. Imperfect.

I crept back into his room after he was fast asleep, and held him close. My baby, the one I held in my arms that very first day...everyone thought he was broken. My mind couldn't wrap around the concept. Was it my fault? 

Every hope and dream I had for him and his future washed away that night, only to be replaced by fear. All I could think about was, Does he even have a future? Is everything ruined? Most importantly, What is going to happen to him when we die? There are no words that could properly express my broken heart, and how scared I was for my son.

I held my baby tight that night and cried.

After early intervention, he went to a Special Ed Preschool. He made improvements, but nothing substantial. As he got older, he still didn't talk, only using maybe 15 words regularly at age 4.

It's amazing how suddenly everyone became an expert. Parents started to look at us with bewildered, even accusing stares when they heard him jabber, or when they saw him cover his ears and cry at loud noises. We started to feel pressure to get him diagnosed. I was even told by teachers and parents alike that we didn't love our son, we were neglecting him and living in ignorance. But something deep inside us felt it was wrong. We felt we needed to give him a chance.


The pestering got worse. I took him to see a pediatrician right after we moved here who told me that I was not doing enough to give him the care that he needed. We searched desperately for programs that would help him, and were disgusted by their lack of their organization and professionalism. As we continued to look for answers, we received even more bullying from others. People at the park, and even church members informing us that there was something wrong with Landon and there were programs for him if we would just get him diagnosed.

Feeling emotionally battered, I called a friend and absolutely fell apart over the phone. She told me one the thing I really needed to hear: "Landon is going to be just fine, because you will make sure he will be. He has you and he has Jim, two of the best parents in the world, and you will make sure that he gets taken care of." She probably has no idea how I have clung to those words since then. 

We accepted that he was likely Autistic, and forced ourselves to come to terms with it. We went back and forth on what was best for Landon, spent a lot of time on our knees praying, and ultimately we still felt that it still wasn't right to have him diagnosed. It wasn't only about the label, it was about medication, and trusting professionals when our instincts told us not to.

And then we finally received an answer to our prayers, after thee and a half years of endurance. We found a private program that specializes with kids like Landon, children who have SID, developmental delays, Autism, learning disorders, ADHD, brain trauma and so on.

We took him in to be evaluated for treatment yesterday, where he got an official diagnosis: Sensory Integration Dysfunction and Developmental Delay. That's it, and it's completely and non-medicinally treatable! He is otherwise age appropriate, and in no way Autistic.

Both Jim and I have felt a flood of emotions in the past 24 hours. For the first time in a long time, there is a spot of light at the end of this nightmare! Our son has a future! He can do what ever he wants with his future. The world is his to take on, and with that smile of his, he'll conquer it!