Enjoy!

The chaos began about 8:15 last night, with a call from my brother:

“Is Colton still up? Why isn’t he in bed, yet?”

First, I’d like to point out that even on school nights, Colton is never in bed by 8:15. But I played along.

“He’s on spring break this week – burning the midnight oil.”

“Uh… you may want to  double check that.”

What did he meeeaaaan “double check that”?!?!?

It seemed my brother’s wife had been talking to a teacher at one of the district’s other schools, and the subject of spring break had come up.

“Spring break is next week,” he said.

How can that be? I’d planned for spring break to be this week for …. well… weeks, now. I had it in my smart phone calendar and everything. I’d wondered what we’d do all week, because Colton is a.) on crutches and b.) the weather forecast is calling for unseasonably cold temperatures. I’d planned to take him to see Rango today, and the first showing of Hop on Friday.

I’d looked forward to sleeping in. I’d looked forward to no homework, except for reading. I’d looked forward to a well-deserved break from what has been a really tough school year, quite frankly. And a change in spring break plans wasn’t going over well for me. I imagined how well it would go over for Colton.

Phase 2 found me calling Summer. Not that I don’t trust my brother or anything ( ). But this had all the makings of an April Fool’s Day joke coming a few days early. Except that Summer confirmed everything my brother had said: Spring break was still another week away.

This whole fiasco has me wondering what else I’ve mis-scheduled. And whether or not we could actually pull off an extra week of spring break…

-Liz

We think this post from a few years back is worth a Second Glance, especially since it’s spring break and we’re off frolicking with our kids. Enjoy!

Ahhhhh…spring break is finally here. Seems like we’ve been waiting for it since the day after school began last year.  A break from the routine of alarm clocks, bed times, endless homework, car pools, nagging.   I am as excited as the kids are.  It’s hard work to parent school children.  A lot of stress.   A lot of responsibility.  A lot of effort trying to  keep up with the  perfect parents who are probably busy trying to keep up with a whole other set of perfect parents.  It’s a vicious cycle…one from which I am ready for a break.  I went to bed last night with “visions” of  relaxation, going to the park, eating sand coated sandwiches  at the reservoir,  soaking up the first glorious rays of the summer soon to come.

It seems that my ‘visions” were slightly off, as I am now, on the first afternoon of spring break, staring forlornly out my window at snowflakes. Three inches of snowflakes to be  exact, and I fear there is more to come.  How could this happen?  How could Mother Nature be so cruel as to  single-handedly destroy MY spring break?  MY time to sit outside and read a frivolous paperback while the kids frolic. There will be no frolicking this week, only whining bored kids and a frustrated mom.  Snow has long ago worn out its welcome.  That happens at about the same time as the after Christmas sales wind down.  I have lost  count of how many times I have already heard today, “Mom, what can I do?”  It’s the same phrase I’ve been hearing for the past 3 months.  I want to say, “Go outside and frolic in the sun!”  Oh, wait a minute…there is no sun!

Thankfully, there is a little angel in the form of a 9 year old girl, who lives down the street.  She came over minutes ago to rescue my son from the gloom and doom pervading  my home.  They are now outside in full winter gear: snow pants, puffy coats, snow boots, hats and gloves.  I’m not joking! If I didn’t know better, I would think it was the middle of winter, not the first day of spring break.   I can see them playing outside in the snow.  Their cheeks are rosy.  They are laughing, throwing snowballs and generally having a great time.  Dare I say they might be frolicking?

Maybe I should take a lesson from the kids.  Maybe it’s time to roll with the punches, even if the punch means one more blast of winter.  If a couple of 9- year-olds can do it, so can I.

I say if  Mother Nature can break the unspoken spring break rule  of warmth, sunshine, and frolicking, well then it’s high time I break some rules as well.  Drastic measures are now called for.  I am now putting on a Michael Buble Christmas cd  in an attempt to lift my spirits.  This will mean breaking my set-in-stone Christmas music rule.   (I made a rule years ago that Christmas music could only be played from Thanksgiving Day until New Years Eve in an attempt the keep the music “special”. ) Strains of  “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas” are now flowing through my house. Liz suggested presents and Santa cookies might be in order.  I say “Let’s not go nuts, here.”  Perhaps Liz does not realize what making sugar cookies entails. I mean it is Liz we’re talking about.  She’s probably on a first name basis with the employees at the local bakery, so how could she know!

I think chocolate chip cookies are a suitable substitute, and perhaps I can find some hidden for a rainy (snowy)  day dollar store treasures in a closet somewhere.  Maybe we’ll even blow up a beach ball and toss it around in the snow.   It’s spring break, after all…might as well have some fun frolicking!

-Kate

Tag along with Kate as she makes an attempt at being cool, hip and trendy.

Oxygen bars are all the rage these days among the young trendy yuppie types. While I’ll be the first to admit that I am neither young or trendy, I do occasionally try to be hip. My latest attempt at “hipness” involved putting pink plastic tubes up my nose and breathing  the scent of an orange grove, all while trying to relax and not look ridiculous.

Now in case you are reading this and thinking, “What in the sam hill is an oxygen bar?” here’s the Wiki definition:

“An oxygen bar is an establishment, or part of one, that sells oxygen for recreational use. Individual flavored scents may be added to enhance the experience. The flavors in an oxygen bar come from bubbling oxygen through bottles containing aromatic solutions before it reaches the nostrils.” ~Wikipedia

So my thinking is, ‘Why would someone pay good money to breath in scented oxygen?’ I mean, I can plug in an air freshener and breath all the scented air I want…for free. But never one  to be a party pooper, I tagged along with my daughter, her boyfriend and my husband. We made the trip because the boyfriend got injured in a wrestling match  and was having some trouble with his lungs. My husband (who always tries to be among the hip and trendy) heard about the injury and went straight into Dr. mode, telling boyfriend that the oxygen bar would help him heal more quickly.

We went to a salon called Solace. (You can typically find oxygen bars in salons, health clubs,tanning salons,resorts and on practically every corner in Las Vegas.)

First up at the oxygen bar, my daughter and her bf.

My daughter is looking at me with her “I can’t believe you are about to take a picture of me with plastic tubes up my nose” look, while the boyfriend is looking at me with his “Look how cool and trendy I am” look.

While they got their fill of oxygen, my husband and I got 15 wonderful, luxurious minutes in high tech full body massage chairs, each placed in a darkened quiet room. It was 15 minutes of pure heaven. In fact, I”m sincerely hoping that in heaven we each get our own personal full body massage chairs.

My 15 minutes were up much too quickly, as they pulled back my curtain and I was jolted out of my reverie. I mean really, you can’t put a busy mom of 7 kids in a dark quiet room for 15 minutes and think she’s going to leave willingly.

So off to the oxygen bar I headed. I sat on a stool and put the pastel pink oxygen tubes up my nostrils. They felt hard and plastic-y. Thinking I must have them in upside down, I took them out, turned them over and tried it again. Even more hard and plastic-y. Then as instructed, I put the tubes around my ears to hold it in place.  The right side, however kept slipping off. I now am thinking maybe my ears are lopsided?!

Anyway, I decided to push forward and attempt to relax and enjoy, first with the scent of lavender.  Not bad. A quick re-adjustment of  the tubes which were digging into my nasal passages and then on to the eucalyptus. Too medicine-y and hospital-like for my taste. ( With the twist of a switch we were able to control the scent of our oxygen.) Next scent, and my favorite by far, the orange groves.

I tried to relax, breath deeply and feel the oxygen flowing into my body, truly I did.  But I just could not get past the hard plastic up my nose enough to relax. However, my husband seemed to have no trouble in that department, as he appeared to be practically asleep on his stool. In fact, I thought he might just doze off and fall to the floor.

Here are the claimed benefits of breathing oxygen at an oxygen bar:

-Heightens concentration, alertness and memory

-Oxygen gives you energy!

-Oxygen is vital to your immune system, memory, thinking and sight

-Promotes healing and counters aging

-Strengthens your heart, reducing the risk of heart attacks

-Calms your mind and stabilizes your nervous system

-Speeds up the body’s recovery after physical exertion

-Provides a natural remedy for headaches, migraines and hangovers

-Relieves temporary altitude discomfort

-Improves digestion and cell metabolism

-Relieves muscle stiffness, support pre-athletic performance

-Lessens chronic fatigue syndrome and gives you better sleep patterns

Our verdicts:

The boyfriend: loved it. Thought the oxygen made it much easier to breath for the rest of the day.

The daughter: liked it, but not as much as the boyfriend. She was concerned about looking silly. But she said it made her feel good.

The husband: swears by it. Says he would go every week if he could. He says it helps him when he over-exerts himself.

Kate: ummm…maybe I’m just not cut out to be cool, hip and trendy.

Want to learn more about oxygen bars? Check out All About Oxygen.

I also found this…

“Scientific data says that purified oxygen does very little, as our blood is already saturated with 99% oxygen. Any effect that may occur would dissipate within a few minutes, as the blood re-circulates.

Although oxygen bars offer a respite from the many air pollutants found in large cities, many believe that it’s the same as stepping into any building or car with an air filtration system.

To quote an expert, “If your lungs are healthy, and you have no breathing difficulties, your body has all the oxygen it needs,” says George Boyer, MD, chief of pulmonary and critical care at Mercy Medical Center in Baltimore. “Taking in more is like going to the gas station and trying to fill a tank that’s already filled.”

The Truth About Oxygen Bars

Check out Kate’s other Adventures…

Kate Goes on an Adventure: with New Moon’s Laurent and Caius

Kate Goes on an Adventure: The Quest for a New Moon Mall Tour Wristband

Kate Goes on an Adventure: Demolition Derby

Kate Goes on an Adventure: Hot Air Ballooning

Kate Goes on an Adventure: Bonneville Salt Flats Speed Week

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As is typical with my daughter, she arrived in North Carolina making quite the grand entrance. I should’ve seen it coming I guess. The first sign that she was off to a rocky start came before she’d gotten out of the county: she’d forgotten the “welcome home” sign that she’d worked on so diligently. So she’d just have to hope Adam could pick her out in a crowd.

The night of Hannah’s arrival in North Carolina, she somehow managed to fall off the hotel room bed and wedge herself between the bed and the wall. Thankfully Lee and Cheryl were there to pull her out of the predicament. How she got there to begin with is anyone’s guess. And quite frankly, we’re probably better off not knowing the details…

All seemed well on Sunday, though. Until my phone rang about 6:30 p.m.

“Whatcha doing, Mother?”

“Um… nothing… what are you doing?”

“Um, well, I just got out of the emergency room.”

I’m sure you all know that in that moment, my head went wild with possible scenarios. Jelly fish? Sting Rays? Shark bite?!?!?! No. She’d been too calm for that one.

“I passed out,” she offered before I could start rattling off my theories.

They’d just left the beach after a day of fun and sun and made it as far as the outside shower area when Cheryl felt Hannah grab her shoulder. As Cheryl turned around, Hannah hit the wooden boards hard and fast, face down and out cold. Heat exhaustion.

Enter the stretcher, a neck brace and joy ride in the ambulance. I’m tellin’ ya, no one knows how to kick off a vacation quite like my daughter, huh?

Now awake and regaining her senses, she felt a tug on her hair, where the EMT was attempting to pull something out of her hair.

“You have a bird feather in your hair,” she told Hannah, who laughed and replied that she’d actually paid someone to put it there. (True story – and just for the record, dear reader and friend Niki says it’s a ring-tail lemur. You be the judge.)

She arrived at the emergency room in her swim suit (as did Cheryl and Lee) leaving enough sand along the trail for a decent castle. Some vital-sign testing, blood drawing and three hours later, she left the ER with orders to drink more water (who knew? right?). A lucky little soul she was that the fall didn’t knock out every tooth in the front of her braces-straightened pearly whites. That would’ve been a real sight for Adam’s homecoming…

Nevertheless, she’d (hopefully) reached No. 3 in the rule of threes. And about 9:15 p.m. Monday night, the moment she, Cheryl and Lee had impatiently waited on for months came, as Marine Lcpl. Adam H. arrived back home on U.S. soil. All was right in the world for my baby girl. Of course, they still have almost a week left in North Carolina, though. Let’s just hope Ms. Entertainment has done enough for one vacation.

-Liz
Follow @lizrants

I am away on vacation this week…woohoo!yeehaw! While I’m away I’ve left a few of my favorite summertime posts for you this week. Enjoy! ~Kate

Okay guys (and by guys, I don’t mean people in general, I actually mean guys, as in the gender laden with testosterone) this post is basically meant for you.  But if you fit within the estrogen half of the population, I think you might just want to read along for kicks.

Guys, do you believe in the vacation fairy?  You must, right?  What other explanation could there possibly be for magically getting from point A, where you pick your vacation destination, to point B, actually arriving at said destination with everything you need for an enjoyable, stress-free trip?

That’s all it takes, right?  Just pick a location, drive  there, and relax and have fun.  No worries, the Vacation Fairy will do the rest.

Here’s the typical scenario.

In March, wife says to husband: Where should we go on vacation this year?

Husband says to wife: How about a fun trip to California; maybe Disneyland, Universal Studios and the beach.

Wife and husband then proceed to pick a date for the middle of July (for argument’s sake, let’s pick July 16)

The morning of July 15 arrives (22 hours before departure) and husband says to wife: Wow! Vacation is tomorrow. That just snuck right up on me.   I guess we need to start packing and plan out our trip. And by “we” we all know he does not actually mean “we”, he means anyone but himself.  (Men, I freely admit that I’m generalizing here.  If you don’t fit within the 98 % of the male population to which I am speaking, feel free to quit reading and go get yourself a snack…maybe one of those DingDongs Liz is so fond of.)

All I have to say is, “Thank goodness for the Vacation Fairy.”  Who else would wash the mounds of laundry and neatly pack it up in suitcases without forgetting to add the swim suits, beach towels, sunscreen and flip flops?  Who else would make sure the papers are all cleared from the driveway and the junk mail is not over-flowing the mailbox in your absence?  And what about an itinerary for the trip, places to stay, sites to see and snacks for along the way?  And the pets…thank goodness the Vacation Fairy feeds and waters those pets, and lets them out to do their business while you’re away.

(The whole fam plus 4 extras who tagged along on the vacation…well, except for me – someone has to shoot the pic.)

And when you return from your glorious, relaxing break from the humdrum routine of life, the best part of all is that your under-appreciated, and often un-noticed Vacation Fairy just waves her magic wand and all traces of  the trip just disappear. (You know – unpacking suitcases, washing dirty clothes, cleaning smashed cracker crumbs out of  the crevasses of the car…you get the gist here)

So guys, pardon me if my post is a bit shorter than usual today.  I’m going on vacation on Saturday.  I’ve got to go stretch out on my sofa, read a juicy novel, drink lemonade and eat some bon bons  while my Vacation Fairy gets us ready for the trip!

~Kate

Enjoy your Coffee Break!

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Yesterday afternoon, while browsing the weekend’s tweets, I came across a new product, brought to my attention by Cool Mom Picks. The product? Breast Milk Baby. That’s right. Forget the days of the little plastic bottle with the milk that magically disappears. This baby doll doesn’t drink from a bottle. Oh, no. It’s a pseudo-breast-fed baby. Now, your little girls (or boys, I suppose) can don a halter with fake breast-o-flowers, pull the doll close,  watch the doll’s mouth move and listen to the sounds of a nursing baby.

Before we move on, let me be clear (cough). I’m all for breast-feeding for any woman who chooses to breast feed. I was one of them. And after reading CMP’s post, I probably could’ve let it go with a slight chuckle and a roll of my eyes. But oh, no. I had to click on the link and see the product’s website for myself.

According to the maker, “the whole purpose of The Breast Milk Baby is to teach children the nurturing skills they’ll need to raise their own healthy babies in the future.”

Wow. How have the children of the world survived for all these thousands of years? Talk about your miracles…

Anywho, the more I read about this doll and the zillions of comments it provoked on every website that covered it, the more I saw that the discussion was geared less toward the doll itself – at least for those who supported such a doll -  and more toward  anyone who dared to say that the doll was, quite frankly, in no way appropriate for a child. Anyone with the audacity to speak out against the doll was automatically thrown in the “anti-breast-feeding” category, cast aside as a big uninformed boob (pun intended) – a sorry drag on what many of the doll lovers would consider an otherwise “enlightened” society. Hate the doll, hate all breast-feeding mothers. Don’t you just love the logic? (sarcasm intented).

Parentdish.com ran a story on the doll and posted a poll, as well. Like many polls, it’s skewed before anyone can answer. The question posed was simple: Would you buy a nursing doll for your daughter?

Harmless enough, right? Take a look at the three options and how 14,345 people voted:

• No. That’s just gross.                                                        70 percent
• Maybe. it would depend on how old she was.        15 percent
• Yes. There’s nothing wrong with breast-feeding.  15 percent (emphasis mine)

From that, one could deduce that 70 percent of those polled do not approve of breast-feeding, but how accurate would that be? Not very, if you ask me.

So let’s try to make sense of this whole thing with a question that couldn’t be more straight forward if it tried: Would you buy the doll? Why or why not? Leave a comment below. Don’t let me down. I’m just sayin.

-Liz

FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER! @lizrants

This week’s cheater recipe…

Easy Peasy Lemon Freezy Pops

What could be better than this ultra easy, healthy and delicious  summer treat? It’s the perfect way to cool down on a hot summer day!

Easy Peasy Lemon Freezy Pops

Ingredients:

• 1 cup finely diced fresh fruit
• 1 cup plain or pink lemonade frozen concentrate
• 1 cup water
• ice pop mold or small disposable plastic cups

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Directions:

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Cut fresh fruit into small pieces.

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Fill each ice-pop mold (or cup)  half full of cut fruit.

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Mix lemonade concentrate with water. Pour into molds.

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Cover with tops and freeze for about 5 hours. If using plastic cups, freeze partially for about  1 1/2 hours, then insert stick and finish freezing.
To serve, run molds under warm water for a few seconds and pop out.

Enjoy!

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My first hint that something was wrong came a few nights ago, when I came out of Hannah’s room with her basket of 847 bottles of nail polish, to see if somewhere in the mix there might possibly be a bottle of bright red (the perfect color for the 4th of July).

“What are you doing, Mom?”

“I’m going to paint my nails. Do you mind?”

“Yes. Don’t paint your nails. You’re perfect just like you are.”

Oh is that right? I thought.

“So what’s up with that? Why do you have issues with me painting my nails? Hannah paints her nails.”

“Yes, but I’ve known her all my life and she’s always painted her nails.”

“You’ve known me all your life, too, knucklehead.”

“Well that’s different.”

Why we continued this discussion was beyond me – I know better than to reason with the unreasonable . So I dropped it.

Enter yesterday’s trip to the store. Colton was helping me get everything out of the cart and on to the self-checkout, when all of a sudden his whole demeanor changed.

“What is your problem, son?”

“I’ll tell you in the car,” he said, with his face looking like he’d just seen a ghost.

Once we got to the car, he dispensed with his usually helpful attitude and hopped straight in, never saying a word. Until I got in and started the car.

“Is that fingernail polish for Hannah?”

“Nope. It’s mine. Isn’t it pretty?”

“Mom, I told you I didn’t want you to paint your nails.”

Here we go again, I thought.

I spent a  good five minutes trying to figure out what his issue was. Was he attacked by a giant display of nail polish in another life? Had someone with painted nails been mean to him? Is he allergic to the smell of fresh polish? Am a raising a MALE CHAUVINIST PIG?!?!?!

I mentioned all the women we know who paint their nails – especially women in the family.

“Even Nan paints her nails?” he asked looking like he’d just lost his best friend.

“Yes, even Nan. So look here, mister. You’re gonna have to come up with some solid reasoning if you want me to even consider your request.

“Look at it this way, Mom. I don’t mind that you wear earrings.”

“You’re darn right, you don’t mind. And I have half a mind to go buy a pair the size of basketballs, just because I can. You don’t make these decisions.”

Stumped for any  rhyme or reason for his hatred of me with red nails – or any other color, for that matter – I once again dropped the whole discussion, at least where he was concerned. Now, I’m on my own quest to find out what possible reasons he could have for the anti-nail polish stance, and I don’t care who I have to consult.

“Oh, and Mom, don’t tell anyone I said that about you painting your nails, OK?”

“OK, Colton. I wont say a word…”

At least not until this bright red nail polish dries…

-Liz

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Let’s just say I’m currently Enemy No. 1 on my daughter’s list through no fault of my own.

It seems her car has a slight problem (at least that’s how the women among us would likely term it). It’s running super hot and leaking a fluid. Which wasn’t on my daughter’s list of things to take care of last night with a double-header softball game four counties away.

So I took the car for a spin before she left. And when the hot/cold gauge (does it have a real name? Oh, what does it matter) goes to hot after a couple of miles, I feel pretty confident that we’ve got a problem brewing.

“You can’t drive this car,” I’d said.

“What am I supposed to do? I have ball games and if I’m not there, the   whole team will have to forfeit because they won’t have enough players.”

What I really wanted to say was that the lack of players was a planning problem – that the team needed more than the bare minimum of players to begin with. What if someone got the flu or was abducted by aliens or … what if someone’s car broke down on the way? But I didn’t.

Instead I did what I do. I attempted to fix things. In fact, I   outdid myself. What I discovered was that she was out of that radiator cooling stuff.  I think. Because I couldn’t really read through her opaque tank. So I ran to the closest auto parts store with the leaking product from the car on a paper towel.

After explaining the story, I left with 2 bottles of the coolant and directives stating I must NOT open that one little cap if the car was hot or warm or it would explode and I would be sorry. Unfortunately I wasn’t sure exactly which cap they were referring to. Nor was I sure which tank the coolant went into.

But I was taking this one for the team, I figured. Learn something about cars, I told myself. I started making calls, too. To Bert (Summer’s husband), my brother and my dad. They all seemed to concur that there was something wrong. Go figure. Bert and Dad even agreed the problem could be one of three things, from simple to “I don’t really want to know this” problems. Meanwhile Hannah talked someone crazier than I to drive her to her games as her car sits un-drive-able.

There is solace to be found. One day, she’ll have a daughter of her own. And said daughter’s car will overheat. Her daughter will be a little snit and blame Hannah, while Hannah will feverishly look for a way to fix the problem. And then Hannah will call me. And I’ll tell her what my dad told me: “I’m glad that’s not my daughter.”

And the curse will be complete

-Liz

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The problem? My family expects things to be fast and easy. If all they have to do is empty a packet of oatmeal into a bowl, add water and pop it into the microwave for a minute or two, well, that’s doable. However, if the process involves opening an oatmeal tub, using measuring cups of TWO different sizes, adding sugar, salt, cinnamon, water…and then putting it all back away, whoa, way too many steps here.

Plus, my kids don’t really like the texture of ‘real‘ oatmeal. Too oatmeal-y, they say. Not as smooth as the oatmeal from the packets. The funny thing is, they’re right about that, the texture is different. They’re also right that it seems like a lot of effort to put forth to make yourself some quick breakfast before school or work.

Here’s the solution:

Homemade Instant Oatmeal Packets.

• They taste great
• They save you money.
• It takes less than ten minutes to whip it up and package it.
• It’s so easy to make a bowl that even the most rushed (or laziest) kid/spouse will be able to handle making a bowl during the morning rush.

Homemade Instant Oatmeal Packets

(Brown Sugar Cinnamon)

Ingredients: (makes 24 servings)

10 cups of quick oats (this is about 3/4 of a large tub of oats)

2 tsp. salt

4 tsp. cinnamon

1 cup brown sugar

1 cup granulated sugar

ziplock snack sized baggies

Directions:

1. Put 7 cups of the oats into a large bowl.

2. Blend 3 cups of oats in a blender until powdery. Do 1/2 cup at a time, and then add to the big bowl of oats. (Blending the oats gives it the smoother consistency of store bought packets.)

3. Add salt, cinnamon, brown sugar and granulated sugar to the oats. Stir thoroughly until well blended.

4. Measure 1/2 cup mixture and put into individual snack sized baggies and seal. This should make 24 servings of instant oatmeal.

5. To prepare, just empty 1 baggie of oatmeal into a bowl and add 3/4 cup of water. Microwave on high for 1 minute. (Microwaves vary, so add more time if necessary.)

I saved the box from the store bought instant oatmeal packets and use it to store my homemade packets. I also save the empty baggies for the next batch.

Enjoy!

Here’s the great part: cost savings.

Homemade Instant Brown Sugar Cinnamon Packets - Cost for 24 servings about $2.00.

Quaker Instant Brown Sugar Cinnamon Packets - Cost for 24 servings about $8.50.

Give it a try. I think you’re going to like it!

Want to copy and paste to print this recipe? Here it is.

Homemade Instant Oatmeal packets – Brown Sugar Cinnamon

Ingredients: (makes 24 servings)

• 10 cups of quick oats (this is about 3/4 of a large tub of oats)
• 2 tsp. salt
• 4 tsp. cinnamon
• 1 cup brown sugar
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• ziplock snack sized baggies

Directions:

1. Put 7 cups of the oats into a large bowl.
2. Blend 3 cups of oats in a blender until powdery. Do 1/2 cup at a time, and then add to the big bowl of oats. (Blending the oats gives it the smoother consistency of store bought packets.0
3. Add salt, cinnamon, brown sugar and granulated sugar to the oats. Stir thoroughly until well blended.
4. Measure 1/2 cup mixture and put into individual snack sized baggie, seal. This should make 24 servings of instant oatmeal.
5. To prepare, just empty 1 baggie of oatmeal into a bowl and add 3/4 cup of water. Microwave on high for 1 minute. (Microwaves vary, so add more if necessary.)

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