Roses, Rainbows and Recipes

I think I am the only freak of nature who is soooo over new things. 2013 is the "Year of New" and I am ready for the Era of "Been There Done That".

I cannot tell you how many times a lovesick fifteen year old took over my mind and body as I found myself, at 30, doodling my name over and over again...before we got married...

Monique Danye` Hoskins...Monique Danye`Criddell Hoskins...Monique Hoskins...Mr. &Mrs. James Hoskins...Mrs. Monique Criddell Hoskins

and I smiled and roses and rainbows appeared and a robin perched on my windowsill and tweeted a tune.

Yeah, the process of inaugurating the "new" was not that lovely and sweet. 

Ladies, changing your name is 1. annoying and complicated and 2. quite traumatizing. 

The social security lines are just long. 

There is nothing romantic about waiting for your number to appear on a scrolling marquee in a room full of strangers...Which is why I have yet to get a new license. Don't tell James. 

Although, I don't know if I haven't visited the DMV because of inconvenience or because that 2x3 inch piece of plastic is the last shred of my former identity; plus my picture looks great...This made the blog so I am guessing it is probably the latter. I love discovering things as I type. 

I can't help but to feel that changing my name is some sort of betrayal to my family of Criddell's. My poor dad, who adores James, "forgets" my last name each time we talk. 

"Hello, Mrs. Crid errrr uhhhh, Hopps...Husk...Hoskins...yeah that's it, Hoskins."

I have a new name attached to a man other than my father who has loved, supported and cared for me for 31 years. I have a new "home" because wherever James is that is home and it actually feels like it. I have a new job that James knows more about from day to day than my family. I have a new church and new friends. I have an entirely new family...I even have a new mac and cheese casserole recipe...You don't understand just how deep things just got. This may be more crucial than my name.

This dish is more important than Thanksgiving turkey and Christmas ham. 

It is a legendary Criddell recipe.

Angels take pause to sing when the oven opens. 

And yesterday I changed the recipe to something brand new....Don't tell mom. 

 I LITERALLY had to talk myself into it. . I changed my mind a few times.

Sundays are our clean eating days because we until the plate is clean. I'm talking about the most fatty, carb-infused meals I can think to make. It's a Hoskins' House Rule. On Sundays calories don't count unless you count them. So I turned on some gospel music, took out a few sticks of butter and got to cooking. James and I melted into OUR newness. This is what Sundays would smell like for us and our future family...reeeallll buttery and warm. 

As good as the new felt and always feels, at least momentarily, I could hear my old name calling out in desperation. 

She is afraid of  being forgotten.

She is just going to have to learn that she is not being left behind. 

She can come along with all of her old recipes and family traditions.  

The old has been so good to me but I still get butterflies when I write my new name. Roses bloom on Sundays at the Hoskins' house and the robins are warming up. Rainbows appear when we kayak. And I'm pretty sure that the angels gave a celestial, slow-clap standing ovation when I opened the oven to the new mac and cheese...because it.was.good.